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Henry wouldn’t normally have seen the fax, but he was in the High Commissioner’s office, going over a speech Sir David was due to make to the Banana Growers’ Annual Convention, when it was placed on the desk by the High Commissioner’s secretary.

The High Commissioner frowned and pushed the speech to one side. ‘It hasn’t been a good year for bananas,’ he grunted. The frown remained in place as he read the fax. He passed it across to his First Secretary.

‘To all Embassies and High Commissions: The government will be suspending Britain’s membership of the Exchange Rate Mechanism. Expect an official announcement later today.’

‘If that’s the way of things, I can’t see the Chancellor lasting the day,’ commented Sir David. ‘However, the Foreign Secretary will remain in place, so it’s not our problem.’ He looked up at Henry. ‘Still, perhaps it would be wise if we were not to mention the subject for at least a couple of hours.’

Henry nodded his agreement and left the High Commissioner to continue working on his speech.

The moment he had closed the door of the High Commissioner’s office, he ran along the corridor for the first time in two years. As soon as he was back at his desk, he dialled a number he didn’t need to look up.

‘Bill Paterson speaking.’

‘Bill, how much have we got in the Contingency Fund?’ he asked, trying to sound casual.

‘Give me a second and I’ll let you know. Would you like me to call you back?’

‘No, I’ll hold on,’ said Henry. He watched the second hand of the clock on his desk sweep nearly a full circle before the bank manager spoke again.

‘A little over PS1 million,’ said Bill. ‘Why did you want to know?’

‘I’ve just been instructed by the Foreign Office to switch all available monies into German marks, Swiss francs and American dollars immediately.’

‘You’d be charged a hefty fee for that,’ said the bank manager, suddenly sounding rather formal. ‘And if the exchange rate were to go against you …’

‘I’m aware of the implications,’ said Henry, ‘but the telegram from London doesn’t leave me with any choice.’

‘Fair enough,’ said Bill. ‘Has this been approved by the High Commissioner?’

‘I’ve just left his office,’ said Henry.

‘Then I’d better get on with it, hadn’t I?’

Henry sat sweating in his air-conditioned office for twenty minutes until Bill called back.

‘We’ve converted the full amount into Swiss francs, German marks and American dollars, as instructed. I’ll send you the details in the morning.’

‘And no copies, please,’ said Henry. ‘The High Commissioner isn’t keen that this should be seen by any of his staff.’

‘I quite understand, old boy,’ said Bill.

The Chancellor of the Exchequer announced the suspension of Britain’s membership of the Exchange Rate Mechanism from the steps of the Treasury in Whitehall at 7.30 p.m., by which time all the banks in St George’s had closed for the day.

Henry contacted Bill the moment the markets opened the following morning, and instructed him to convert the francs, marks and dollars back into sterling as quickly as possible, and let him know the outcome.

It was to be another twenty minutes of sweating before Bill called back.

‘You made a profit of PS64,312. If every Embassy around the world has carried out the same exercise, the government will be able to cut taxes long before the next election.’

‘Quite right,’ said Henry. ‘By the way, could you convert the surplus into kora, and place it in the Swimming Pool Account? And Bill, I assured the High Commissioner the matter would never be referred to again.’

‘You have my word on it,’ replied the bank manager.

Henry informed the editor of the St George’s Echo that contributions to the swimming pool fund were still pouring in, thanks to the generosity of local businessmen and many private individuals. In truth the outside donations made up only about half of what had been raised to date.

Within a month of Henry’s second coup, a contractor had been selected from a shortlist of three, and lorries, bulldozers and diggers rolled onto the site. Henry paid a visit every day so that he could keep an eye on progress. But it wasn’t long before Bill was reminding him that unless more funds were forthcoming, they wouldn’t be able to consider his plan for a high diving board and changing rooms for up to a hundred children.

The St George’s Echo continually reminded their readers of the appeal, but after a year, just about everyone who could afford to give anything had already done so. The trickle of donations had dried up almost entirely, and the income raised from bring-and-buy sales, raffles and coffee mornings was becoming negligible.


Tags: Jeffrey Archer Mystery