‘I suppose that might just give us a fifty-fifty chance,’ said Townsend.
‘And I can lower those odds even further. In the week of publication we can use our network of newspapers and magazines across America to make sure the book gets favorable reviews and front-page advertisements, and put my article on “The Amazing Mrs. Sherwood” in as many of our journals as you think we can get away with.’
‘If it’s going to save me a million dollars, that will be every one of them,’ said Townsend. ‘But that still only makes the odds a shade better than fifty-fifty.’
‘If you’ll let me go one step further, I can probably make it odds-on.’
‘What are you proposing? That I buy the New York Times?’
‘Nothing quite as drastic as that,’ said Kate with a smile. ‘I’m recommending that during the week of publication our own employees buy back 5,000 copies of the book.’
‘Five thousand copies? That would just be throwing money down the drain.’
‘Not necessarily,’ said Kate. ‘After we’ve sold them back to the shops at fifty cents apiece a second time, for an outlay of $15,000 you’ll be virtually guaranteed a week on the best-seller list. And then Mr. Yablon will have to return your second million.’
Townsend took her in his arms. ‘We just might pull it off.’
‘But only if you get hold of the names of the shops that report to the New York Times best-seller list.’
‘You’re a clever girl,’ he said, pulling her closer.
Kate smiled. ‘At last I’ve found out what turns you on.’
‘Stephen Hallet is on line one, and Ray Atkins, the minister for industry, on line two,’ said Pamela.
‘I’ll take Atkins first. Tell Stephen I’ll call him straight back.’
Armstrong waited for the click on his latest toy, which would ensure that the whole conversation was recorded. ‘Good morning, Minister,’ he said. ‘What can I do for you?’
‘It’s a personal problem, Dick. I wondered if we could meet?’
‘Of course,’ Armstrong replied. ‘How about lunch at the Savoy some time next week?’ He flicked through his diary to see who he could cancel.
‘I’m afraid it’s more urgent than that, Dick. And I’d prefer not to meet in such a public place.’
Armstrong checked his appointments for the rest of the day. ‘Well, why don’t you join me for lunch today in my private dining room? I was due to see Don Sharpe, but if it’s that urgent, I can put him off.’
‘That’s very kind of you, Dick. Shall we say around one?’
‘Fine. I’ll see that there’s someone to meet you in reception and bring you straight up to my office.’ Armstrong put the phone down and smiled. He knew exactly what the minister of industry wanted to see him about. After all, he had remained a loyal supporter of the Labor Party over the years — not least by donating a thousand pounds per annum to each of fifty key marginal seats. This small investment ensured that he had fifty close friends in the parliamentary party, several of them ministers, and gave him an entrée into the highest levels of government whenever he needed it. Had he wanted to exert the same influence in America, it would have cost him a million dollars a year.
His thoughts were interrupted by the phone ringing. Pamela had Stephen Hallet on the line.
‘Sorry to have to call you back, Stephen, but I had young Ray Atkins on the line. Says he needs to see me urgently. I think we can both work out what that’s about.’
‘I thought the decision on the Citizen wasn’t expected until next month at the earliest.’
‘Perhaps they want to make an announcement before people start speculating. Don’t forget that Atkins was the minister who referred Townsend’s bid for the Citizen to the Monopolies and Mergers Commission. I don’t think the Labor Party will be ecstatic about Townsend controlling the Citizen as well as the Globe.’
‘It’s the MMC who’ll decide in the end, Dick, not the minister.’
‘I still can’t see them allowing Townsend to gain control of half of Fleet Street. In any case, the Citizen is the one paper that’s consistently supported the Labor Party over the years, while most of the other rags have been nothing more than Tory magazines.’
‘But the MMC will still have to appear even-handed.’
‘Like Townsend has been with Wilson and Heath? The Globe has become a daily love letter to Teddy the sailor boy. If Townsend were to get his hands on the Citizen as well, the Labor movement would be left without a voice in this country.’
‘You know it and I know it,’ said Stephen. ‘But the MMC isn’t made up only of socialists.’
‘More’s the pity,’ said Armstrong. ‘If I could get my hands on the Citizen, for the first time in his life Townsend would discover what real competition is all about.’
‘You don’t have to convince me, Dick. I wish you luck with the minister. But that wasn’t the reason I was calling.’
‘Whenever you phone, Stephen, it’s a problem. What is it this time?’
‘I’ve just received a long letter from Sharon Levitt’s solicitor, threatening you with a writ,’ said Stephen.
‘But I signed a settlement with her months ago. She can’t expect another penny out of me.’
‘I know you did, Dick. But this time they’re going to serve a paternity order on you. It seems that Sharon has given birth to a son, and she’s claiming that you’re the father.’
‘It could be anyone’s, knowing that promiscuous little bitch...’ began Armstrong.
‘Possibly,’ said Stephen. ‘But not with that birthmark below its right shoulderblade. And don’t forget there are four women on the MMC, and Townsend’s wife is pregnant.’
‘When was the bastard born?’ asked Armstrong, quickly leafing backward through his diary.
‘4 January.’
‘Hold on,’ said Armstrong. He stared down at the entry in the diary for nine months before that date: Alexander Sherwood, Paris. ‘The bloody woman must have planned it all along,’ he boomed, ‘while pretending that she wanted to be my personal assistant. That way she knew she’d end up with two settlements. What are you recommending?’
‘Her solicitors will be aware of the battle that’s going on for the Citizen, and therefore they know that it would only take one call to the Globe...’
‘They wouldn’t dare,’ said Armstrong, his voice rising.
‘Perhaps not,’ replied Stephen calmly. ‘But she might. I can only recommend that you let me settle on the best terms I can get.’
‘If you say so,’ said Armstrong quietly. ‘But make sure you warn them that if one word of this leaks out, the payments will dry up the same day.’
‘I’ll do my best,’ said Stephen. ‘But I’m afraid she’s learned something from you.’
‘And what’s that?’ asked Dick.
‘That it doesn’t pay to hire a cheap solicitor. I’ll phone you back as soon as we’ve agreed terms.’
‘Do that,’ said Armstrong, slamming the phone down.
‘Pamela!’ he bellowed through the door. ‘Get me Don Sharpe.’ When the editor of the London Evening Post came on the line, Armstrong said, ‘Something’s come up. I’m going to have to postpone our lunch for the time being.’ He put the phone down before giving Sharpe a chance to respond. Armstrong had long ago decided that this particular editor needed replacing, and he had even approached the man he wanted for the job, but the minister’s phone call had caused that decision to be delayed for a few more days.