CHAPTER 12
Anthony Dark tapped the end of his 22-carat gold Schafer pen on the exquisite walnut table four times in sharp succession.
“Ladies and gentlemen can I please call the meeting to order.”
The chattering around the table subsided and a cloak of silence fell on the room. The man at the head of the table rose to his feet and leaned forward resting his outstretched fingers on the polished surface. He was a thin man with angular features. His black wavy hair, black bushy eyebrows and long pointed nose gave him a rat-like appearance. He looked like he needed a shave.
“May I first start by welcoming Mrs Mattherson here today and say how very saddened we all are by the death of her husband. Michael was…” he paused and looked directly at the woman sitting at the opposite end of the tab
