False Nine by Philip Kerr Read Free Book Online Page B

makes us look as if we’re not to be relied on for a moment. Wouldn’t you agree?’
    I nodded. ‘But who would do something like that?’
    ‘This is Shanghai, Mr Manson. Back in the mid-nineteenth century this city gave its name to a slang word used by seamen which means to steal, borrow, kidnap and not bring back, but frankly little has changed since then. There’s a lot of sharp and underhand work that goes on here which passes for normal business practice. Ethics and business do not yet go hand in hand like they do in London’s square mile.’
    ‘I wouldn’t be too sure about that.’
    ‘Oh, I accept that things are not perfect in London. But however imperfect they might seem to you, Mr Manson, by comparison this place is the wild west. There are regulations but they are not enforced and if they are, a bribe can easily fix things. Being a wealthy man – one of the wealthiest in Shanghai – it’s fair to assume I have my share of enemies, not just in business, but also in the world of football. Sportsmanship is not something that we have yet learned to appreciate here in China. There is winning and not much else. A top four finish may be good enough for Arsenal but it is not good enough here. In Chinese we have a saying: second place is just a sore loser’s word for failure.
    ‘No, if I had to guess, I’d say it was one of my Chinese Super League footballing rivals who have tried to scupper our chances of hiring top European talent. Most likely Shanghai Taishan who are our most bitter opponents. I might almost say “Forget it, Jack, it’s Chinatown”, except that I’m afraid I can’t forget this. I’m sorry to tell you that we’ll have to call another press conference where you admit your mistake. Tomorrow. Here in this hotel. In the same conference room. You can leave the arrangements to me. There will be loss of face but this is the Chinese way. To admit you were wrong. You can tell everyone you were duped and then eat some shit. Just make sure you don’t say something like “all Chinese look alike”. That will only make things worse.’
    I shook my head. ‘He didn’t look like you,’ I said. ‘Then again, we weren’t sure what you look like. There are no pictures of you on Google.’
    ‘As much as possible I try to remain out of the limelight, Mr Manson. My appearance on Bloomberg was a first for me. ’
    I walked to the window and stared out at the awful landscape of skyscrapers and neon signs. If this was the future then they were welcome to it and, for the first time since walking out on London City in Athens, I wished I hadn’t been so principled. I missed London and I especially missed the lads in my team, which was still how I thought of them. It was the first Saturday in January. City had a derby against Arsenal and I would have been picking my first team players and preparing my pre-match talk. This was the time of year when any manager in English football came into his own – when it really mattered what you said and did. It’s the hardest job in the world to motivate players who are knackered from too much football and know they’re risking injury because of the midwinter madness that prevails in the English game. It can’t be denied that there were too many fixtures between Christmas and New Year. The Germans manage to close down for forty days, which makes a lot more sense than what we do. Even the football crazy Spaniards and Catalans manage to take thirteen days off.
    Only in Britain did the clubs and more importantly the television companies treat the game like it was some kind of pantomime. The show must go on, and all that bullshit. Perhaps this had been all right back in the day when the game was played on mud at a snail’s pace – as at the Baseball Ground in 1970 – but these days the pitches were as fast as billiard tables and it’s speed that causes most of the injuries in the modern game. Of course it was the injury to me and my reputation that ought to have