proved beyond doubt that Nathan’s judgment was sadly flawed.
His heart attack could not have come at a worse time. For weeks afterwards, he’d been forced to lie helpless while Nathan systematically took the company down. Only his lack of experience of a large organisation had worked against him, and his efforts to award tenders for contracts on the basis of favours granted had eventually been noticed in accounts.
Nevertheless, the half-yearly figures had been appalling, and by the time Matthew dragged himself back into his office, the shareholders were lusting for his blood. They were threatening to hit him with a vote of no confidence in the company’s management, and with competitors breathing down his neck, something drastic had to be done.
But he hadn’t fired Nathan. He’d known that by admitting his son-in-law’s incompetence, he’d be indirectly blaming himself, and any hint of a lack of judgment on his part could trigger an instant collapse of Webster shares. Instead, without actually making any overt reference to his mismanagement, he had systematically stripped Nathan of all responsibility in the company. And, just as inevitably, Matthew had resumed his former position, against medical advice and at the risk of his own health.
He didn’t know what Caitlin had made of her husband’s obvious change of status. She seemed content, and he had never allowed himself to entertain the thought that Nathan might have been a failure as a husband, too. He still refused to admit he could have been so totally wrong about the man, and in consequence he’d kept Nathan’s mistakes to himself.
Well, almost …
That was when he’d asked Marshall to join the company. He’d been prepared to pay him anything if he’d come to work for him. He needed someone he could trust in a position of authority. Someone who could be his eyes and ears, without alerting the other members of his board—or Nathan—what was going on.
Now, as he watched the younger man cross the thick carpet towards him, he was aware of his own mortality as never before. One day soon, he was going to have to make a decision about Marshall, and the knowledge filled him with defeat. He’d fought against it for so long, but fate was catching up with him. He couldn’t go on running Webster’s. Already, he had had intimations that his health was deteriorating more rapidly than even his doctors had expected, and despite his misgivings, he had to choose someone to be his successor. Obviously, it couldn’t be Nathan. Whatever happened, he couldn’t allow that. But Marshall … Marshall was still largely an unknown quantity. Despite their enforced intimacy, Matthew knew he was only here under duress.
He sighed. If only the boy could understand. But he’d never forgotten that once Matthew had forbidden him the privilege of working for the company. Never forgiven him, either. And if Marshall’s mother wasn’t still alive—and vulnerable—the young man would never have agreed to his request.
“Caitlin called,” he said now, lounging into the chair across the desk from Matthew and regarding him with cool blue eyes. He hooked his heel across his knees. “I thought you’d like to know.”
Matthew kept his temper with an effort. But he couldn’t suppress the indignant flutter in his chest. God, was his wife right? Had he made another foolish error? Marshall appeared to hate him as much as he admired him; he certainly showed him no respect.
“Didn’t she want to speak to me?” he demanded, his tone just short of an accusation. “You knew I wanted to talk to her if she called.”
Marshall shrugged. He was a man of middle height, stocky but muscular, and Matthew knew he worked out several times a week. He had short brown hair and he wore wire-rimmed spectacles, but his appearance was deceptive. He was as strong as an ox and just as stubborn when he chose. Like Caitlin …
“She wouldn’t wait,” Marshall said carelessly, flicking a speck of lint from his sleeve. He hesitated, and then added reluctantly, “I got the impression she was—nervous. I guess finding your husband doesn’t know you is quite a strain.”
“If he doesn’t,” muttered Matthew sceptically, tapping a pen somewhat agitatedly against his blotter. “What do you think? Is he lying, or has he really lost it? How the hell are we going to handle it if it’s true?”
Marshall’s face was annoyingly blank. “You’re talking about the discrepancies in the South American contract.”
“Well, I’m not bloody interested in his health, if you’re in any doubt.” Matthew scowled. “How in God’s name did we let him get away with it? Does nobody do their jobs around here but me?”
Marshall’s expression hardened. “It was you who insisted on keeping him on,” he pointed out evenly.
“Only because it would have been a damn sight more dangerous to let him go,” snarled his employer harshly. “Besides, I didn’t think he’d be reckless enough to attempt to defraud the company again. After bringing us to the brink of bankruptcy the last time, I thought he’d have learned more sense. Christ, the man’s a complete shit, and I want him out!”
“So you weren’t thinking of Caitlin’s feelings, then?” Marshall was sardonic, and Matthew gave him a brooding look.
“That, too,” he said defensively. “Hell, she’s married to him, isn’t she? How could I tell her what a bastard he was? Credit me with some feelings, Marshall. I’m not totally without discrimination.”
“But you’ve changed your mind now.”
“Situations alter cases,” said Matthew pedantically. He shook his head. “We have to think of the company. God, if this present fiasco were made public, I can just imagine what that would do for our shares.”
Marshall considered. “Well, I don’t think there’s anything we can do until he’s back in England. Then you can have your own physician check him over without causing too much fuss. But—” he paused “—if it’s true, it’s going to be difficult to prove his guilt. You can’t accuse a man who doesn’t remember what you’re accusing him of.”
Matthew flung the pen across the desk in frustration. “The truth is, it’s going to be hard to prove whatever the prognosis. If he’s fooled the doctors in the States, why shouldn’t he fool them here? And how am I going to tell Caitlin her husband’s a criminal? Thank God there aren’t any children to complicate things even more.”
Marshall’s lip curled. “Thank God,” he echoed harshly, and Matthew gave him a remorseful stare.
“You’re a lot of help, I must say,” he muttered. “And don’t pretend you don’t know what I mean. I’ve made mistakes in my time, I admit it. But dammit all, Nathan was the worst.”
Marshall sighed as if expelling his impatience on the breath, and then drew his brows together. “Well—there’s always the chance that his condition will be temporary. If he has lost his memory, it may be he’ll recover it when he gets home. Familiar things, familiar places, familiar people. I’ve heard there are no hard-and-fast rules where amnesia is concerned.”
“Which doesn’t do a lot for us,” declared Matthew wearily, lines of strain appearing beside his mouth. “Whatever happens, it’s going to be weeks, maybe even months, before we can nail him. Which means I’m going to have to make good the damage myself.”
Marshall’s brows elevated. “There is the woman—Lisa Abbott. She may know something about it. I could go and see her.”
“And warn him that we’re
