Death of a Financier Read online

  'A sad business.'

  'Yes. No one knows exactly how big the business really is. Non-governmental organisations estimate that there are at least two thousand kidney sales a year in India alone.'

  'You're right, body parts has become a big business.'

  'Yes, I suppose you have to get used to India. Myself I came to write a book, I usually find a new place whenever I'm working on a new book.'

  'Why India?'

  'It's part of the background for the book, besides that a change of scenery stimulates my imagination, you see people differently.'

  'Are you staying in a hotel?'

  'No, we've rented a house, my wife and myself, up the hill from the lighthouse. It's peaceful?pleasant?you know with the dhobi-wallah, char-wallah and all that.'

  'What?'

  'Never mind.'

  'Cut off from the outside world though.'

  'Not exactly, I have an Internet connection.'

  'Is the connection good?I mean the telephone lines are reliable?'

  'Not always, that's why I took the precaution of getting a satellite link and transmitter before I left home, very handy in places like this. It's necessary for my research work and to keep in contact with people back home, you know my publisher.'

  'Ah,' exclaimed Ryan. 'Isn't cumbersome?'

  'No, modern technology. It's no bigger than a lap top.'

  'Very interesting.'

  'Do you have something on?'

  'Something on??'

  'I mean are you waiting for somebody.'

  'No.'

  'Then come along, I'll show it to you, but I warn you, you may end up in my story!'

  Ryan laughed and they set off in the direction of the lighthouse end of the beach.

  *****

  Chapter 26

  Back in the hotel Ryan, who had talked with Barton a couple of times at the breakfast buffet, spotted him in the lobby and invited him to join them for a drink by the Club pool, the presence of another man would have a restraining effect on his mother's single mindedness.

  Nicole, however, looking for an ally, hopefully tried to enrol Barton on her side by asking him what he thought about Ayurvedic medicine and gurus, a subject she had been heatedly discussing with Ryan shortly before.

  'I don't really know much about it,' he confessed. 'What I do know is that millions of people at home seem to be turning to faith healers, gurus and the like?probably some kind of failure in our society.'

  'It's really closer to mysticism than to medicine,' said Ryan.

  'You know Princess Diana used reflexology,' announced Sarah.

  'A lot of good that did her!' he said roaring with laughter.

  'Do you know that Cherie Blair uses an Ayurvedic guru!' added Nicole firmly.

  'That's no reference either.'

  'The trouble with you Ryan Kavanagh is you know bloody well everything,' shouted his mother, to Barton's great amusement.

  'No mum, I've got nothing against healthy people indulging their fantasies, but the problem is kidding seriously ill people to believe a treatment might work is bad. You could say where's the harm? Well the trouble is it ends up by demoralising already sick patients even more!'

  'As long as it's a tourist thing, I can't see the harm in it,' Barton said hoping to take the heat out of the discussion. 'Whatever you say about India, it's no different from home where there's been a huge increase in the popularity of homeopathic products and the like,'

  'You're dead right, there's more quacks selling their cures now than general practitioners.'

  'As a doctor, what do you think of these things, I mean scientifically?' asked Barton.

  'Scientifically we have what is what we call double blind testing, if a cure works it becomes part of accepted medicine, if it doesn't it remains what it is - quack medicine for the gullible!'

  The two women frowned, they did not like the way the men answered everything with science.

  'I even have a friend who has been cured by telephone,' Ryan added laughing. 'It's called alternative medicine and its peddlers are uninterested in proving whether it works or not.'

  'But certain alternative therapies such as acupuncture work.'

  'Maybe, but there's no conclusive proof, no doubt some there's psychological or physiological factors involved that we don't yet understand,' he said in the hoping of appeasing the two women.

  'What I'd like Ryan, if you have got some time for your mother, is to come with me to the Ayurvedic centre and meet Doctor?,' she fumbled in her bag and pulled out a card then handed it to him not knowing where to begin with pronouncing the good guru's name.

  ''Sree Dharma Jayanthi Guru,' announced Ryan reading the card. 'So what is he mum, a doctor or a fakir?'

  'He's an Ayurvedic.'

  'A medical doctor?'

  'How do I know,' she said annoyed at her son's supercilious tone.

  'Alright, so what kind of treatment is he going to give to you?' Ryan asked, knowing full well it was another slimming diet.

  'A special course of massages and slimming therapy.'

  'I see,' he said holding back a laugh, which if it got out would invoke his mother's fury, 'weight loss therapy?'

  'Yes, look?' she said digging once again into her beach bag. 'Here!'

  He took the slim glossy brochure she handed to him and quickly scanned it.

  'I see, therapy under the guidance of a qualified Ayurvedic physician. Hmm?it says the aim is to fix metabolic issues connected with excess weight. Sounds interesting. Special massages with herbal oils and a strict vegetarian diet! Steam baths as well as medicine is included in the special treatment programme. Correction of hormonal imbalance and removal of excess fat in the body! Two hours a day focusing on stimulating the circulatory system with a view to avoiding fat deposits.'

  Sarah, sitting just outside of her mother's vision, made urgent signs to Ryan to humour her.

  'What do you think?' asked Nicole.

  'Well the massages wouldn't do any harm,' he said holding the kind of straight face that infuriated his mother.

  'Alright mum, let's meet him.'

  *

  She had told Dharma Jayanthi, as she told just about anybody else who cared to listen to her, of how successful her son had been. The guru being a businessman quite naturally humoured her, like he did with all his patients, as he called them, after all he was a doctor. However, his only real interest in foreign tourists was purely financial, otherwise he had little time for them, they were ignorant of Indian tradition and worse were their condescending manners.

  The guru invited them to a table in the garden, where he started by expounding the virtues of Ayurvedic tradition. In his eyes he had two potential customers, Nicole and Sarah, and there was also Ryan. Sree Dharma Jayanthi Guru was an irrepressible optimist.

  Ryan politely listened to the guru, for the sake of peace in the family, even though he detected a certain superciliousness in the guru's discourse, in spite of his broad, though oily smile that displayed a fine set of white teeth, there was a discernable lack of sincerity. Ryan was convinced it was the well practiced sales spiel the guru offered to so many other tourists, nevertheless, he had to admit the guru knew how to spin a web of charm, like all quacks, over his gullible patients, especially women patients.

  With a smile that exuded mysticism and saintliness he announced to Ryan, whom he saw as a competitor: 'Believe me Doctor Ryan, I have few worldly ambitions, money and material things mean very little to me.'

  *****

  Chapter 27

  West Mercian was forced to suspend withdrawals after rumours triggered panic selling by its small investors, prompting the fear of a Northern Rock style run and fear for the billions of pounds invested in its property fund, which many had seen as a safe refuge for their savings.

  West Mercian's announcement that the small investors in its three billion pound property fund would not be able to access their money for up to a year had panicked holders of savings accounts.
<
br />   It explained the fund, which had invested in London office space and shopping centres across Britain, no longer had sufficient cash reserves to meet demands from investors wanting to withdraw their money. Its standby cash fund, which under normal circumstances would have held a reserve 12% of its total assets to meet withdrawals, had fallen over recent weeks, though not alarmingly so. But as rumours spread, savers and investors rushed to get their money out and reserves suddenly dwindled to mere tenth of what was considered normal by banks.

  Commercial property values, especially in the City of London office market, had plunged amid fears of a recession brought on by a sudden surge of global credit tightening.

  West Mercian explained to the press it had decided to take measures to protect investors following a significant level of customer withdrawals from its UK property fund. It blamed the US subprime mortgage crisis and the fear of a rise in interest rates with the growing talk of recession.

  The industry was faced with its worst crisis in commercial property since the Canary Wharf office development in London went into administration in the 1990s.

  Small punters had invested heavily in commercial property, but the downturn in values over the previous couple of quarters had been brutal. Shares in British Land, one of the leading property companies, had fallen by nearly half, whilst many other funds showed almost equally massive falls. The result was a rush of furious small investors stampeding to get out whilst the going was good only to be told they could no longer access their savings.

  The problem was by definition such funds had invested in office buildings, which could take months to sell, and therefore the cash needed to pay out small investors was simply not available. The only possible alternative would have been a fire sale of assets, which could have only result in even more substantial losses for investors.

  West Mercian was accused of leaking information concerning the suspension of withdrawals to privileged customers and insider trading contrary to FSA rules concerning the equal treatment of customers.

  As a spokesman reassured customers that West Mercian's underlying fundamentals remained healthy the key managers of the firm were accused by the press of having focused their attention on the payment of their huge Christmas bonuses only ten days before the crisis exploded, bonuses that would have been impossible had the collapsed occurred earlier. Once checks were safely credited to their bank accounts, the rotten core of the firm was revealed.

  The board put the blame on middle managers whose decisions had been inconsiderately taken, exposing the firm to unacceptable risks putting the future of the entire firm in peril.

  Meanwhile, as the crisis grew in London with investors pulling their money out, Indians rushed head first into financial markets, abandoning their long tradition of hoarding gold and selling it to buy shares on the Bombay Stock Exchange, which had risen five hundred percent in just five years. A rude awakening awaited many imprudent Indian investors who would soon discover that their economy was not disconnected from the world financial system or markets for their manufactured goods.

  *****

  Chapter 28

  What do you think of this Ayurvedic thing?' asked Francis nodding towards an advertising panel that vaunted the services of one of the many clinics.

  'I keep a fairly open mind, but personally I wouldn't trust them to cure anything more than a fairly ordinary depression.'

  'What about medical tourism?'

  'My advice to anybody suffering with a real health problem is get care at home. Unfortunately that's easier said than done. Part of the problem is that medically speaking science has made extraordinary progress and today our health system is very overloaded and will continue to be so.'

  'Overloaded?'

  'Yes, the more medicine discovers or learns the greater the scope of care we can offer to our patients, the greater the demand, apart from the fact that we are all living longer and are better educated. Take dental care for example, before the NHS was founded sixty years ago the vast majority of people accepted bad teeth, they had no choice, dental care was costly, so little was done apart from pulling a tooth or some fairly crude fillings. That's all changed now, today television advertising and show biz reminds us of how we should care for our teeth and sets the standards for beauty, which means practically everybody wants some kind of maintenance, repair work or beautification.

  'I wouldn't disagree with that.'

  'The only problem is our dear old national health system was not designed for that! Drawing the line between health care and beauty is difficult, what should be paid for by the system or by the patient is a problem, who pays?'

  'I agree, everybody wants access to every kind of treatment available, but nobody wants to pay.'

  'For me it's a political problem, that's why you see people coming to India to have their teeth fixed.'

  'So you're against medical tourism?'

  'No, not per se, there are no doubt many first class hospitals and clinics, but there are many questions, notably concerning complications and aftercare. Talking for myself, if I were to send somebody overseas for an operation, for example, I would ensure the follow-up, but the problem is the follow-up can cost more than the operation.'

  'Maybe you can help me?' said Francis.

  'Oh,' replied Ryan warily.

  'Don't worry, it's nothing to do with my health,' Francis laughed. 'It's about my book. I don't normally speak about what I'm writing to anybody, except when I need advice.'

  'Advice?'

  'Yes, you see the background of my novel is related to problems that concern people at home today. You know modern society?the economic situation?medical tourism?the state we're in to coin a phrase.'

  'I see,' said Ryan still unconvinced, who living in his comfortable world was not too aware there was an economic problem brewing.

  'I don't know if you have observed all these British tourists here very closely?'

  'I saw a few cases walking past Beatles.'

  'Well those are a microcosm of our society and its problems.'

  'So how can I help?'

  'Well, I'm not a doctor or a medical specialist for that matter, what I'd like is your opinion about the dangers of medical tourism in India.'

  'Well if I'm truthful I don't know very much about it or India for that matter.'

  'That's not important. You see I've done a lot of research and I would like the opinion of somebody like yourself on some specific questions.'

  'It's not a crusade or something like that?'

  'No, I'm an observer of people and society, I've no axe to grind, of course I have to add a little spice to make a good story, but apart from that what I write is fiction?which could become reality much quicker than you think,' he said with a smile.

  'Epidemics, quacks and charlatans?'

  'Why not? Natural disasters are just waiting to happen. Look at the tsunami! As for charlatans there's plenty of them about. According to some estimates there's an incredible one million people posing as doctors of some kind or other in Indian today.'

  'You're kidding!'

  'No. In Delhi alone, about forty thousands quacks operate from homes and clinics. Some describe themselves as Ayurvedic doctors, in any case the vast majority of them have no qualifications whatsoever.'

  'What about medical associations?'

  'Well there are some Ayurvedic organisations, they traditionally classify physicians into three different categories: quacks they call chhadmachara, impostors called sidhsadhita and those qualified pranabhisara who are designated saviours of life.'

  'Pity we don't do that - and the government?'

  'They're powerless, not to speak of corruption and the lack of resources, even the police have their hands tied because of the lack of adequate legislation in the field. What makes matters more complicated is every Indian state has its own laws.'

  'Okay,' Ryan said feeling a little more reassured, 'I'll help you.' After all Francis seemed a pleasant enough person and it would do no harm
to talk with him about his book.

  *****

  Chapter 29

  Sid's assessment of the Spanish market was dead on, it was in a nose dive, for many different reasons, including those of corruption, bad planning and complex regulations, which had recently been broadcast in the highly publicized demolition of a number of homes owned by Brits.

  Many expats had knowingly bought property in the expectation that the land on which their dream homes had been built would be reclassified as urban land.

  The previous decade had been a gold rush, but for many it was turning out to be fool's gold. In an orgy of construction never before seen on the peninsula more than eight hundred thousand homes had been built annually, more than in France, Germany and Italy put together.

  The televised bulldozing of Brit's homes had resulted in a fall of two thirds in the sale of Spanish properties to potential buyers in the UK, and caused sleepless nights to the thousands of existing expat Spanish home owners, whose deeds for the land they believed they owned suddenly became suspect. They woke up each day in the fear of a demolition order, and just the sight of a yellow Komatsu bulldozer sent a shiver of fear through expat property owners.

  The problem was so widespread that even the mayor of Marbella and many of its town councillors and officials had ended up in prison accused of corruption in a vast real estate scandal.

  Spain had the highest concentration of Britons living outside of the UK in Europe, most of them on the coastal region between Alicante and Fuengirola, with a high number owning homes built without the required planning permission.

  Barton had heard endless stories of those who had either been informed by the authorities that they were living in illegally built properties or had discovered it local English-language newspapers.

  Many foreign buyers discovered their homes had been built on illegal land after completion and having moved in. Unlike Spaniards they had put their faith in the local lawyer, who was in reality part of a system, where traditionally construction work proceeded whilst the legal problems were worked out, mainly because of the inertia of the legal system, which may have been well-founded at the time of the Caudillo, but was no longer effective when a construction crane sprouted on every street corner or vacant site in and around every Spanish city, town and village.