The Spanner - 5

‘Gentlemen, welcome, welcome. Take a seat. Would you like anything to drink? I have coffee and sparkling water. No still water I’m afraid. If you need still, I could have Richard get you some.’

‘No thank you,’ Ryan said as he and Kong took their seats. The vintage leather didn’t so much creak as pleasantly sigh under their weight. Ryan had identified them as Eames originals the first time he’d stepped into the office. The large desk looked to be of the same era, a g-plan with shelves suspended beneath the table by metal posts. He furnished the office with his own funds — very few bank executives had such confidence in the security of their posts. ‘We had a coffee on the way.’

‘Of course, of course,’ Clitheroe said as he settled behind his desk. ‘So, what’s all this about then?’

Giles Clitheroe, AKA the Clit, was overall program manager for Harmony and half a dozen other strategic projects currently running in the bank. While Kip Gillette might be a director trying to throw punches in the managing director weight class, Clitheroe was the real thing. He held power-by-title, and he wielded it almost effortlessly. He leaned forward in his seat, perfectly balanced as he pivoted forward and gently rested his elbows on the table in a fluid dip. Ryan wondered if he could pass a sheet of paper between his elbows and the tabletop. He thought he probably could.

Ryan cleared his throat, his tie suddenly feeling too tight. He’d never seen the Clit lose his temper — quite the opposite, he seemed to carry an almost unshakable air of serenity even in the most adverse circumstances — but he couldn’t help thinking that if he ever did snap it would be epic. ‘It’s about the impact analysis for DDNPLFRR. We’ve hit a bit of a road block.’

‘That was to be expected, I suppose. What kind of a roadblock?’

‘It’s the IT manager. He can’t .. He won’t provide the information we need.’

‘Can’t or won’t?’

‘Both, to be honest. I suspect if he did know the answers he still wouldn’t provide them, but we’ve no real way of knowing.’

Ryan explained the difficulties they’d been facing with Ramble, the lack of cooperation and the bizarre diversionary tactics. Throughout, the Clit remained expression-neutral and so focused on what Ryan was saying he didn’t appear to blink, not even a flutter. Each time Ryan would use a word like difficult or obtuse or unusual, he could could see Kong twitching ever so slightly in his periphery. Kong wanted to use words like moron, imbecile, and fuckwit, but Ryan thought it was unlikely the Clit would appreciate such frank expression, no matter how honest.

‘I see,’ the Clit said, Buddha-calm. ‘And you think there’s no way this Ramble fuckwit is likely to come around?’

Ryan felt a sudden warmth emanating from Kong, a clearly detectable wave of satisfaction. ‘No, I don’t think so. We had another go at him earlier today, but he was just as bad.’

‘Worse,’ Kong said.

‘What do you recommend?’ the Clit asked, looking between Ryan and Kong.

‘I think we need to get a new contract with the suppliers in Bangalore,’ Ryan said. ‘If the developers will only speak to Ramble under the terms of the current arrangement, then we need an arrangement with them, our own service contract.’

The Clit went rigid. His eyes didn’t even move. Ryan had seen this before when the Clit was thinking with a rapid intensity, as though he was able to stop time for himself, travel inside his own head, and look at the situation from all possible angles. In Clit-time he might have been pondering it for an hour or more, but to Ryan and Kong it was a matter of seconds. He blinked once and said, ‘Excellent idea. You’ll both fly out to Bangalore in the morning. I’ll have Richard arrange your flights and accommodation. Three days should be enough.’

‘Um,’ Ryan said. ‘Er.’ He hadn’t been prepared for that. ‘Okay, but is that … really necessary? Going out there?’

‘Absolutely,’ the Clit said. ‘If we tried to get a new contract from here it would take days of passing documents back and forth between all their management layers. If you go there you can do it in less than a day, and then establish a relationship with the developers. Very important that you establish a relationship with them, get them to trust you.’

‘Um,’ Kong said. ‘Won’t still take us a while to agree the contract? With all the management layers?’

‘Oh, it’s only three guys,’ the Clit said. ‘Two of them have multiple roles, but they all sit next to each other. If you’re present, they’ll be forced into an honest representation of their physical proximity. Give me a call when you get there, okay? Just be conscious of the time difference. Now if you gents will recuse me, I’m due on a conference call with Geneva.’

Ryan and Kong stepped out of the Clit’s office both looking like they’d been spun around five times really quickly.

‘Here are your itineraries,’ said Richard, handing each of them a sheet of paper. Richard was the Clit’s assistant, a young Etonian-type with sharp avian features and an even shaper side-part.

‘But how did you …’ Kong said. ‘We just …’

‘Your flight leaves Heathrow at eight, car will pick you up from your homes at four-thirty, so be sure to set your alarms. You’re staying at the Novotel near the office, I hope that’s OK.’

‘But … how …’ Kong stammered.

Ryan led him away as Richard started speaking to someone else through his headset. ‘Come Kong,’ he said. ‘We must pack. We have a quest.’

‘Bangalore,’ Kong said. ‘Fucking Bangalore.’

‘Yeah,’ Ryan said, quietly excited. ‘Fucking Bangalore.’