Heads You Win

“What’s the bank’s attitude?” asked Elena.

“They’re still willing to back us if we agree to close Elena’s Three immediately, and concentrate our attention on Elena’s One and Two. Although they’re both still making a profit, they’re also suffering from some of the consequences of my decision.”

“Well, let’s look on the bright side,” said Elena. “At least you’ve got your parliamentary salary to fall back on.”

“Not for much longer, I fear,” said Sasha, “because if Margaret Thatcher retains her lead in the polls, it will be very hard for me to hold on to Merrifield at the next election.”

“Isn’t there a personal vote, if your constituents feel you’ve done a good job?” asked the countess.

“Rarely worth more than a few hundred votes, and usually reserved for rebels who’ve voted against their own party. And if the company were to go bankrupt, I’d have to resign and leave Fiona to march back onto the field in triumph.”

“One should never forget,” said the countess, “you have to climb a ladder to success, but failure is a lift going down.”

“Then we’ll just have to start climbing again,” said Elena.

*   *   *

Sasha realized that if Elena’s was to survive, his biggest problem would be the taxman. Should the Inland Revenue demand their pound of flesh, the company would have to go into receivership, and dispose of its assets. And if Elena’s One and Two were to suddenly come on the market, everyone in business would know it was a fire sale.

Sasha knew if that was the outcome, he would have to abandon his political career and look for a job. What a complete fool he’d made of himself, just when he thought nothing could derail him.

There was no one else to blame, so he decided to face the problem head-on. He phoned the Inland Revenue and made an appointment to see his case officer, Mr. Dark. Even the name filled him with foreboding. He could already visualize the damn man. Short, bald, overweight, coming to the end of an undistinguished career of pen-pushing, who enjoyed nothing more than depositing lives into an out-tray. He probably voted Conservative, and wouldn’t be able to resist saying how sorry he was, but he had a job to do, and there couldn’t be any exceptions.

*   *   *

Sasha parked his Mini in Tynsdale Street, fifteen minutes before the appointed hour, crossed the road, and entered a soulless-looking red-brick building. The royal crest hung above the entrance, and might as well have read, ABANDON HOPE ALL YE WHO ENTER HERE. He gave his name to the lady on the reception desk.

“Mr. Dark is expecting you,” she said ominously. “His office is on the thirteenth floor.”

Where else? thought Sasha.

Even the lift seemed reluctant to make the upward journey, before disgorging its only visitor. Sasha stepped out into a gray pictureless corridor, and went in search of Mr. Dark’s office.

He knocked on the door and entered a room with no windows and a desk covered in red files. Behind the desk—first surprise—sat a man of his own age who greeted him with a warm smile—second surprise. He stood up, and shook hands with Sasha.

“Would you like a cup of tea, Mr. Karpenko?”

An Englishman’s idea of putting you at ease before adding a teaspoonful of cyanide.

“No, thank you,” said Sasha, wanting the executioner to get on with his job.

“Can’t say I blame you,” said Dark, before sitting down. “I know you’re a busy man, Mr. Karpenko, so I’ll try not to waste too much of your time.” He opened the top file and studied the contents for a few moments, reminding himself of the salient points. “I’ve studied your tax returns for the past five years,” Dark continued, “and after a long chat to your bank manager, which you authorized”—Sasha nodded—“I think we may have found a solution to your problem.”

Sasha continued to stare at the man, wondering what the next surprise would be.

“You currently owe the Inland Revenue one hundred and twenty-six thousand pounds, which your company is clearly unable to pay at the present time. However, contrary to public opinion, we tax collectors get our kicks out of saving companies, not closing them. After all, it’s our only hope of getting any of our money back.”

Sasha wanted to laugh, but somehow resisted the temptation.