CITY AND SUBURBAN
The great British pig gets its 57,800 calories in time for next year's show
CHRISTOPHER FILDES
If the British economy were a prize pig — as in so many ways it is — you could guess that the great electoral pig show was a year away. Fattening it up takes timing. No wonder that its faithful pigman, Ken- neth Clarke, put it on a diet 15 months ago, when he raised interest rates. He did not want it blowing up too soon, and bursting. Now it is in the home straight and will get its steady 57,800 calories a day, as recom- mended in Whiffle on the Care of the Pig, Lord Emsworth's favourite book. Interest rates? Cut them once a month. Money? It is in ample supply (growing twice as fast as it is meant to), but there must be room for more. What will keep the pig bulging now is an increasing appetite and a revival of the instinct to consume. Ken the pigman has been saying so. All sorts of high-calorie ingredients will go into the mix, he tells us — tax cuts, pay rises, higher house prices, money maturing in tax-free accounts, windfall apples from building societies and even from the National Grid. By the time of the show, when we as judges cast our votes, the pig will have assumed a familiar shape — inflated, and with an unhealthy appetite for foreign food. Still, as Lord Emsworth said of his own prize pig, this one wins medals for being fat, and after the show it will be some other pigman's worry.
That Maxwell verdict . . .
SENTENCE first, verdict afterwards: this Wonderland principle of justice, laid down at the trial of the Knave of Hearts, has been freely applied to Kevin and Ian Maxwell. No sooner did the jury bring in verdicts of Not Guilty than a thousand instant judges hurried forward to assert that something had to be wrong with the system. The Serious Fraud Office, for a start — it should be pepped up, or wound UP, or merged, and George Staple, the fair- funded lawyer who runs it, should be sent back to the firm in the City where he used to earn four times as much. The trial had lasted for months and cost millions. The Jury — how could a jury understand a case like this, full of figures and documents? There should be an expert tribunal, as Lord Roskill recommended, with a judge backed up by chartered accountants. (I would not care to risk my liberty on the opinions of chartered accountants.) Lord Roskill's other recommendations have all been taken up, which is one reason why prosecu- tors in financial fraud trials can obtain and produce evidence which would be inadmis- sible in trials for murder or treason. If with all these advantages the prosecution still cannot make its case good, then its case may not have been good enough in the first place. As for what the jury understood, has anybody asked them? The Blue Arrow case was far more complex but the jury under- stood it perfectly, or so they told a City edi- tor, who got into trouble for saying so.
. . . my parrot explains
AS IT happened, I was able to introduce a trained parrot into the hotel where the Maxwell jury were secluded. Flapping round the breakfast room and eating lumps of sugar at the tables, this bird has picked up some new phrases, which I reproduce: `Well, there's no doubt who the villain of this piece is."Yes, but he's not in court he's buried in the Mount of Olives.' Or swimming to Australia.' So someone else had to be summoned?"Yes, and put in the slammer for ever, if that judge has anything to do with it. You wouldn't get a colder hard-boiled egg than him, not even for breakfast here.' He gave us the nod, didn't he?' Talk about visiting the sins of the father . . . Doesn't seem quite fair to me.' `Me neither. Have you finished off the minibar in your room?' All but the Mars bar.' Good — then let's go back and give them a verdict.' I do hope that my parrot has not put itself into contempt of court. I would hate to see it sent to jail without the verdict of a jury.
Prepare for rip-off
AS WE reached the runway, the captain's voice sounded smoothly on the intercom: `Now, my lords, ladies and gentlemen, will you please hold your champagne glasses in an upright position and prepare for take- off.' We were on our way to the Prix de l'Arc de Triomphe as the guests of the sponsor, Forte. Ah, well, it was a long time ago, and now the Arc and the jet are on Gerry Robin- son's hit-list. He needs economies, for on Granada's behalf he has paid through the nose to buy Forte. He must now make the arithmetic of the deal look persuasive, but there is no getting away from the colossal price that has been paid to get it done. Tot up the fees and commissions and bungs, add in a bit of tax, and there will be no worth- while change out of £250 million. For pass- ing some parcels of commercial property from one set of hands to another, this is a preposterous bill, as even an estate agent would concede. You can see why the City loves such bids and urges the bidders on, but they do make the jet and the Arc and the champagne look economical.
Shorty gets caught
THESE are torrid days for Shorty D'Oro. The price of gold has gone chugging upwards through $400 an ounce, and since he has bet his reserves that it wouldn't, he has some fast thinking to do. You may remember Shorty as the prize dunce among the world's dimmest investors: the central bankers who sit on their vast hoards and hope that the price will go down. Why is it going up? Speculation, says a solemn ana- lyst — the big American punters are buy- ing. Other buyers touted include the Saudis (as usual), the Chinese (stocking up for the New Year) and the Indians (it's the wed- ding season). More gold is used than is mined and the gap is getting wider. All these explanations may be right but mine is simpler. I suspect that the market has got Shorty by the short hairs.
Budgie on a budget
SEE what a change of financial adviser can do. The Duchess of York has put her best foot forward. What a relief to the National Westminster Bank, lead bankers to Euro- tunnel and to HRH. I had feared that she was taking the same advice as her mother- in-law's government, and with the same results — announcing (as she put it) `Major, major cutbacks' but ending up somehow ever deeper in debt.
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