Townsend listened intently as Tom told him everything he had found out about Mr. Lloyd Summers and why his art gallery was looking for new premises. When he had exhausted all his questions, he instructed his lawyer to arrange a meeting with Summers as quickly as possible. ‘I’ll be flying to New York tomorrow morning,’ he added.
‘No need for you to come all this way, Keith. I can always see Summers on your behalf.’
‘No,’ Townsend replied. ‘With the Star it’s personal. I want to close this particular deal myself.’
‘Keith, you do realize that if you succeed you’ll have to become an American citizen,’ said Tom.
‘As I’ve told you many times, Tom, never.’
He put the phone down and jotted some notes on a pad. Once he had worked out how much he was willing to offer, he picked up the receiver and asked Heather what time his flight was. If Armstrong wasn’t on the same plane, he could close a deal with Summers before anyone realized that a lease on an art gallery in SoHo could hold the key to his becoming the owner of the New York Star.
‘My bet is that Townsend will be on the first flight to New York,’ said Armstrong, once Russell Critchley had finished reading the article out to him.
‘Then you’d better be on the same plane,’ said his New York attorney, sitting on the end of his bed.
‘No way,’ said Armstrong. ‘Why alert the bastard to the fact that we know as much as he does? No, my best bet is to make a move even before his plane touches down. Set up an appointment to see Summers as soon as possible.’
‘I doubt if the gallery opens much before ten.’
‘Then make sure you’re outside waiting for him at five to ten.’
‘How much leeway have I got?’
‘Give him anything he wants,’ said Armstrong. ‘Even offer to buy him a new gallery. But whatever you do, don’t let Townsend get anywhere near him, because if we can convince Summers to back us, that will open the door to his mother.’
‘Right,’ said Critchley, pulling on a sock. ‘I’d better get moving.’
‘Just make sure you’re outside the gallery before it opens,’ said Armstrong. He paused. ‘And if Townsend’s lawyer gets there before you, run him over.’
Critchley would have laughed, but he wasn’t entirely sure that his client was joking.
Tom was waiting outside the customs hall when his client came through the swing doors.
‘The news isn’t good, Keith,’ were his first words after they had shaken hands.
‘What do you mean?’ said Townsend as they headed toward the exit. ‘Armstrong couldn’t have got to New York ahead of me, because I know he was still at his desk at the Citizen when I flew out of Heathrow.’
‘He may still be at his desk right now, for all I know,’ said Tom, ‘but Russell Critchley, his New York attorney, had an appointment with Summers earlier this morning.’
Townsend stopped in the middle of the road, ignoring the screeching of brakes and the immediate cacophony of taxi horns.
‘Did they sign a deal?’
‘I have no idea,’ said Tom. ‘All I can tell you is that when I got into my office, Summers’s secretary had left a message on my machine saying that your appointment had been canceled.’
‘Damn. Then our first stop has to be the gallery,’ said Townsend, finally stepping onto the sidewalk. ‘They can’t have signed a contract yet. Damn. Damn,’ he repeated. ‘I should have let you see him in the first place.’
‘He’s agreed to pledge you his 5 percent share in the Star if you’ll put up the money for a new gallery,’ said Critchley.
‘And what’s that going to cost me?’ asked Armstrong, putting down his fork.
‘He hasn’t found the right building yet, but he thinks around three million.’
‘How much?’
‘You would of course own the lease on the building...’
‘Of course.’
‘... and as the gallery is registered as a non-profit-making charity, there are some tax advantages.’
There was a long silence on the other end of the line before Armstrong said, ‘So how did you leave it?’
‘When he reminded me for the third time that he had an appointment with Townsend later this morning, I said yes, subject to contract.’
‘Did you sign anything?’
‘No. I explained that you were on your way over from London, and I didn’t have the authority to do so.’
‘Good. Then we still have a little time to...’
‘I doubt it,’ said Russell. ‘Summers knows only too well that he’s got you by the balls.’
‘It’s when people think they’ve got me by the balls,’ said Armstrong, ‘that I most enjoy screwing them.’
32
Wall Street Journal
12 November 1986
New York Stocks Dive Record 86.61 Points
‘Ladies and gentlemen,’ Armstrong began. ‘I have called this press conference to announce that I informed the Securities Exchange Commission this morning that it is my intention to make an official takeover bid for the New York Star. I am delighted to report that a major shareholder in the paper, Mrs. Nancy Summers, has sold her stock to Armstrong Communications at a price of $4.10 per share.’
Although some journalists continued to write down Armstrong’s every word, this piece of news had been flagged up in most papers for over a week. Most of the journalists’ pencils remained poised as they waited for the real news.
‘But I am especially proud to announce today,’ continued Armstrong, ‘that Mr. Lloyd Summers, the son of Mrs. Summers and the director of the foundation which bears her name, has also pledged the 5 percent of the company held in trust to my cause.
‘It will come as no surprise to you that it is my intention to continue to support the outstanding work the Summers Foundation does in prompting the careers of young artists and sculptors who would not normally be given the chance to exhibit in a major gallery. I have, as many of you will know, had a lifelong involvement with the arts, in particular with young artists.’ Not one journalist present could remember a single artistic event Armstrong had ever attended, let alone supported. Most of the pencils remained poised.
‘With Mr. Summers’s backing, I am now in control of 19 percent of the Star’s stock, and I look forward in the near future to becoming the majority shareholder and taking over as chairman of the paper at the AGM next month.’
Armstrong looked up from the statement that had been prepared for him by Russell Critchley, and smiled at the sea of faces. ‘I shall now be happy to answer your questions.’
Russell felt that Dick handled the first few questions well, but then he pointed to a woman seated in the third row.
‘Janet Brewer, Washington Post. Mr. Armstrong, may I ask for your reaction to the press release issued this morning by Keith Townsend?’
‘I never read Mr. Townsend’s press releases,’ said Armstrong. ‘They’re about as accurate as his newspapers.’
‘Then allow me to enlighten you,’ she said, looking down at a sheet of paper. ‘It seems that Mr. Townsend has the backing of the bankers J.P. Grenville, who have pledged 11 percent of their portfolio stock in support of his bid to take over the Star. With his own shareholding, that gives him over 15 percent.’
Armstrong looked straight at her and said, ‘As chairman of the Star, I shall look forward to welcoming Mr. Townsend to next month’s AGM — as a minority shareholder.’