She jumped to her feet, but he waved her back to her seat.
‘Sit down, please.’
The outer door opened and Bruce Gordon, the technical director, came in like a whirlwind. ‘James, I need—’ He stopped suddenly as he looked from James Kincaid to Eleri. ‘Sorry.’
‘Give us a few minutes, Bruce,’ said James tersely, and the other man nodded, backing out hurriedly.
Eleri sat in silence, making no attempt to disguise her hostility as James Kincaid went on with his explanation.
‘My brother-in-law,’ he said heavily, ‘works at Renshaw’s, in the City.’
Eleri stiffened. Renshaw’s was a merchant bank. And her friend, Toby Maynard, worked there on the trading floor. To mask her dismay she took the war into the enemy’s camp. ‘Did you tell your brother-in-law about the takeover, Mr Kincaid?’
His eyes hardened. ‘No, Eleri, I did not. Nor would it have mattered if I had. Sam would never have acted on it unlawfully.’
Knowing indignant protestations were useless, Eleri searched in her memory for some chance remark she might have let fall to Toby. Suddenly her face cleared. The last time she’d seen Toby she hadn’t even known about the takeover! Her personal involvement had been in the final stages only.
‘Until last week,’ she said crisply, ‘I knew nothing about the takeover. As you know very well, since you were the one who informed me one night last week when we were working late together. I’ve spoken to no one at all on the subject. And particularly not to the—the acquaintance in question, because he was in Val d’Isere on a skiing holiday until yesterday. Until last night I hadn’t spoken to him for three weeks. He rang me last night, as soon as he arrived back.’
‘If you mean someone by the name of Maynard, I’m afraid you were misinformed. He arrived back several days ago.’
Eleri’s eyes flashed coldly. ‘You’re wrong! Besides, how could you possibly know Toby’s the one—?’ She stopped, biting her lip.
‘You’ve obviously worked that out for yourself,’ said James wearily after a long, uncomfortable pause. ‘Sam told me. Maynard works for him—though of course he has no idea Sam is related to me, and therefore connected with Northwold, which is more to the point.’
The silence in the office deepened, emphasised by the usual morning sounds outside as the administration block filled up with people arriving to complain about the weather and get on with the business of the day. Eleri was deaf to it all. She sat rigid, her mind going round in circles.
At last she got to her feet, her face bleak below the smooth black hair. ‘Would you excuse me for a few minutes, please, Mr Kincaid? I need to make a phone call.’
He rose, nodding. ‘By all means. I suggest you drink some coffee and come back in half an hour. We’ll discuss this further.’
Eleri closed the connecting door behind her and sat down at her desk, then picked up her phone, punched out the number of Renshaw’s Bank in the City of London and asked for Toby Maynard. When told he wasn’t available, Eleri asked for Victoria Mantle instead.
‘Vicky, it’s me. Is Toby in today?’
There was a pause before her friend’s reply extinguished Eleri’s last flicker of hope.
‘Eleri,’ said the other girl, sounding miserable, ‘Toby’s gone.’
‘Gone? What do you mean? Gone where?’
‘Gone as in sacked, told to clear his desk and scram. Sorry, love. Toby’s been a total idiot.’
‘I’ve only just heard he came back early from Val d’Isere.’
‘Didn’t you know?’ Vicky swore colourfully. ‘He’s been back for days. Look, he’s probably at home. Ring him. Give him hell. I’ve got to go. See you tonight, love. Bye.’
Eleri waited for a moment, pulled herself together, then rang Toby’s flat and listened, frustrated, to the recorded message. ‘It’s Eleri, Toby. See you later,’ she said swiftly, then put the phone down and stared blankly at the pile of unopened mail in front of her, feeling as though her world were falling apart. At last, with sudden decision, she typed quickly on the keyboard of her computer, waited while the letter was printed, then signed it. She pressed the button on her intercom, asked James Kincaid if she might come in, then went through the communicating door and crossed the large, orderly office.
Without a word Eleri handed over the letter, and waited. James read the few terse lines of resignation then jumped to his feet, glaring at her.
‘I flatly refuse to accept this.’
Her chin lifted. ‘You must see that in the circumstances it’s impossible for me to work here any longer.’
He made a swift gesture of negation. ‘Just give me your word you had nothing to do with the leak and we’ll forget all about it.’
Eleri stared at him, incensed. “‘Forget all about it”?’ she retorted, no longer caring what she said. ‘You accuse me of being a party to insider trading, and then expect me to carry on as if nothing had happened? Always supposing,’ she added bitingly, ‘that I managed to convince you I was blameless, of course.’
He scowled impatiently. ‘Don’t talk rot, Eleri. I assume you’ve tried to contact your friend?’
‘Yes.’
‘And?’
‘He no longer works for Renshaw’s.’
‘That was inevitable.’ The grey eyes held hers relentlessly. ‘You tell me you haven’t spoken to him on the subject, so Maynard obviously got the information from someone else.’
‘He doesn’t know anyone else at Northwold,’ she said unhappily.
‘Then you must admit I had no choice. I was forced to ask you about it.’
‘Of course. So in the circumstances, Mr Kincaid, I don’t have a choice either. I shall leave immediately. One of the other girls will fill in for you until you can find a replacement.’ She smiled coldly. ‘After all, it would hardly do to keep me on in a position of confidentiality. I’d never thought about leaking information for profit until you gave me the idea. How could I trust myself in future?’
‘Nonsense,’ he snapped, and jumped to his feet. ‘Listen to me, Eleri. Your word is good enough for me. If you say you had nothing to do with it I believe you. And I understand your reaction. It’s only natural you’re angry. But don’t act on impulse. Take time to reconsider.’
For a moment Eleri was tempted. But anger and bitter hurt stiffened her resolve. She shook her head. ‘I’m afraid not. It’s out of the question.’
James Kincaid moved swiftly around his desk and seized her hand. She recoiled, startled, and he dropped her hand as though it burnt him.
‘I’m not into sexual harassment,’ he assured her coldly.
Eleri flushed. ‘Of course not. I’m—on edge.’
