The Collected Short Stories - Jeffrey Archer [193]
Sir Hamish, started speaking as soon as his burly project manager entered the room, not even inviting him to take a seat.
“You must contact our embassy in Mexico City immediately and inform them of our intentions,” pronounced Sir Hamish. “I may speak to the ambassador myself,” he said, intending that to be the concluding remark of the interview.
“Useless,” said David Heath.
“I beg your pardon?”
“I don’t wish to appear rude, sir, but it doesn’t work like that anymore. Britain is no longer a great power dispensing largesse to all far-flung and grateful recipients.”
“More’s the pity,” said Sir Hamish.
The project manager continued as though he had not heard the remark.
“The Mexicans now have vast wealth of their own, and the United States, Japan, France, and Germany keep massive embassies in Mexico City with highly professional trade delegations trying to influence every ministry.”
“But surely history counts for something,” said Sir Hamish. “Wouldn’t they rather deal with an established British company than some upstarts from—?”
“Perhaps, sir, but in the end all that really matters is which minister is in charge of what contract and who is his outside representative.”
Sir Hamish looked puzzled. “Your meaning is obscure to me, Mr. Heath.”
“Allow me to explain, sir. Under the present system in Mexico, each ministry has an allocation of money to spend on projects agreed to by the government. Every secretary of state is acutely aware that his tenure of office may be very short, so he picks out a major contract for himself from the many available. It’s the one way to ensure a pension for life if the government is changed overnight or the minister simply loses his job.”
“Don’t bandy words with me, Mr. Heath. What you are suggesting is that I should bribe a government official. I have never been involved in that sort of thing in thirty years of business.”
“And I wouldn’t want you to start now,” replied Heath. “The Mexican is far too experienced in business etiquette for anything as clumsy as that to be suggested, but while the law requires that you appoint a Mexican agent, it must make sense to try and sign up the minister’s man, who in the end is the one person who can ensure that you will be awarded the contract. The system seems to work well, and as long as a minister deals only with reputable international firms and doesn’t become greedy, no one complains. Fail to observe either of those two golden rules and the whole house of cards collapses. The minister ends up in Le Cumberri for thirty years and the company concerned has all its assets expropriated and is banned from any future business dealings in Mexico.”
“I really cannot become involved in such shenanigans,” said Sir Hamish. “I still have my shareholders to consider.”
“You don’t have to become involved,” Heath rejoined. “After we have tendered for the contract, you wait and see if the company has been shortlisted and then, if we have, you wait again to find out if the minister’s man approaches us. I know the man, so if he does make contact we have a deal. After all, Graham Construction is a respectable international company.”
“Precisely, and that’s why it’s against my principles,” said Sir Hamish with hauteur.
“I do hope, Sir Hamish, it’s also against your principles to allow the Germans and the Americans to steal the contract from under our noses.”
Sir Hamish glared back at his project manager but remained silent.
“And I feel I must add, sir,” said David Heath, moving restlessly from foot to foot, “that the pickings in Scotland haven’t exactly yielded a harvest lately.”
“All right, all right, go ahead,” said Sir Hamish reluctantly. “Put in a tender figure for the Mexico City ring road, but be warned, if I find bribery is involved, on your head