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“No, my lord.”
Carman stared at the jury, a feigned look of surprise on his face.
“As you wish. Mr. Carman, will the prosecution be calling any further witnesses?”
“No, my lord.”
“Very well. In that case, Mr. Gray, you may call your first witness.”
“I call Mr. Hakim Bishara.”
Everyone’s eyes followed the defendant as he stepped out of the dock and made his way to the witness box. He was wearing a navy-blue suit, a white shirt and a Yale tie, just as Mr. Gray had recommended. He certainly didn’t look like a man who had anything to hide. In fact, Sebastian was impressed by how fit he looked. He might have just flown in from a holiday in Lyford Cay, rather than having spent the past five months in prison. But then, as Hakim had explained to Seb on one of his many visits to HMP Wandsworth, he spent an hour in the gym every morning, then walked around the exercise yard for another hour in the afternoon. Besides which, he was no longer eating business lunches, and the prison didn’t have a wine cellar.
“Would you please state your name for the record?” said Mr. Gray after Hakim had taken the oath.
“Hakim Sajid Bishara.”
“And your profession?”
“Banker.”
“Would you care to elaborate?”
“I was chairman of Farthings Bank in the City of London.”
“Mr. Bishara, can you take us through the events that led to you appearing before us in the witness box today?”
“I had flown to Lagos to attend a meeting with the Nigerian oil minister to discuss the funding of a proposed new port to cope with large oil tankers.”
“And what was your particular role in this operation?”
“The Nigerian government had invited Farthings to be the lead bank.”
“For a layman like myself, what does that mean?”
“When sovereign governments need to borrow large capital sums, in this case, twenty million dollars, one bank will take the prime position and supply the largest portion, possibly as much as twenty-five percent, and then other banks will be invited to make up the shortfall.”
“And what would your bank charge for heading up such an operation?”
“The standard fee is one percent.”
“So Farthings stood to make two hundred thousand dollars from this deal.”
“Yes, if it had gone through, Mr. Gray.”
“But it didn’t?”
“No. Soon after I was arrested, the Nigerian government withdrew their offer and invited Barclays to take our place.”
“So your bank lost two hundred thousand dollars?”
“We have lost considerably more than that, Mr. Gray.”
“Don’t get angry,” Seb whispered, although he knew Hakim couldn’t hear him.
“Are you able to estimate just how much your bank has lost because you are no longer its chairman?”
“Farthings shares have fallen by almost nine percent, knocking more than two million pounds off the value of the company. Several major clients have closed their accounts, along with a lot of smaller customers who followed in their wake. But far more important, Mr. Gray, our reputation, both in the City and with our customers, may never recover unless I clear my name.”
