Armadillo - By William Boyd Page 0,44

could take a long time.’

Gale and Home looked at each other again, Gale making an effort to keep his features composed.

‘You’ll have to pay us in the end. Good God, man, did you see our premiums?’

‘The premiums are nothing to do with our firm. We are simply loss adjusters. Our advice is that this is a criminal matter and in view of this it would be most inappropriate –’

It went on for a while in this clipped and politely hostile way, the subtext – Lorimer was sure – emerging plain and lucid for all to see. Then he was asked to leave the room for a while and was served a cup of tea by a brisk, matronly woman who made small effort to disguise the utter loathing she held him in. After twenty minutes he was summoned back – Home was no longer present.

‘Is there any way you can see that might get us out of this… this fix?’ Gale asked, more reasonably ‘Any compromise we might reach in order to avoid endless delay?’

Lorimer met his gaze unflinchingly: it was vital to avoid all sense of embarrassment, of covert shamefulness, of tacit admission of guilt.

‘It’s possible,’ Lorimer said. Our clients are normally keen to find a solution – some sort of median figure that is acceptable to both parties is usually the best way forward.’

‘You mean if I agree to take less?’

‘If you see the difficulties this sort of case presents us with and if you decide in the interests of expediency –’

‘How much?’

This was too bold, so Lorimer decided to press on, formally: ‘-you decide in the interests of expediency that the full claim should be reduced. If I go back to my client with this information, I’m sure a compromise can be reached.’

Gale looked at him coldly. ‘I see. And what sort of a figure do you think Fortress Sure will be able to live with?’

This was the moment: Lorimer could feel the pulses pumping in his wrists – 20 million? 15 million? He looked at Gale and his instincts spoke loud and clear.

‘I should think,’ he frowned as if making swift mental calculations, but he had already decided, ‘I should think you’d be safe with 10 million.’

Gale let out a throaty half-laugh, half-expletive.

‘You owe me £ 27 million and you offer me 10? Jesus Christ.’

‘Remember this is no longer normal business, Mr Gale. Your contractors started this fire deliberately. We would be entitled to walk away from this.’

Gale stood up, walked to the window and contemplated his soon-to-be-spoilt view of the ancient cathedral.

‘Would you put that in writing? The offer of 10 million?’

‘You are the one making the offer,’ Lorimer reminded him. ‘I’m sure that if it’s acceptable you will be formally notified.’

‘Well, I’ll make the offer formally, you get me an “acceptance” in writing, Mr Black, and we’ll take it from there.’ He bowed his head. ‘If 10 million seems the way of least resistance, then I will – with huge reluctance – reduce my claim on the Fedora Palace.’

At the door Gale turned to face him, blocking his exit. His tan face was flushed with blood, his anger turning him brick-coloured.

‘People like you are filth, Black, you’re scum. You’re no better than thieves, lying fucking villains. You’ll happily take our money but when it comes to paying out – ‘

‘Would you please let me leave.’

Gale continued to swear harshly at him in a low voice as Lorimer stepped back.

As soon as we have your communication we’ll be in touch, Mr Gale. Tomorrow, probably.’

As Lorimer hummed down in the lift towards the lobby, towards its lush greenness and discreet lighting, he felt his head throbbing slightly, felt his chest fill and lighten, as if packed with effervescing bubbles and – strangely, this was a first – his eyes smarted from unshed tears. But beneath his exhilaration, his buoyant sense of triumph, a keener warning note sounded. Gale had seemed angry, sure – he had just lost £ 17 million that he might reasonably have thought were coming to him – but he hadn’t been nearly angry enough, in Lorimer’s opinion, not nearly, that was the trouble. Why not? This was worrisome.

117. The First Adjust. You flourished in ‘insurance’ in those early years. Tour father’s connections delivered a lowly but secure actuarial job, you diligently worked and were duly rewarded and routinely promoted. As part of a diversification and work-experience scheme in your first company you were sent on attachment to a firm of loss adjusters.

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