The driver tapped on the internal window and pointed toward number 147. Townsend looked up and saw a young man climbing the steps. He put the phone down and went across to join him.
After an extensive viewing of all five floors, Townsend had to agree with Angela that at $3 million it was perfect — but for only one person. As they stepped back out onto the sidewalk he asked the agent, ‘What’s the minimum deposit you would require on this building?’
‘Ten percent, non-returnable,’ he replied.
‘With the usual thirty days for completion, I assume?’
‘Yes, sir,’ said the agent.
‘Good. Then why don’t you draw up a lease immediately,’ Townsend said, handing the young man his card. ‘Send it round to me at the Carlyle.’
‘Yes, sir,’ the agent repeated. ‘I’ll make sure it’s with you by this afternoon.’
Townsend finally extracted a hundred-dollar bill from his wallet and held it up so that the young man could see which president was on it. ‘And I want the other agent who’s trying to sell this property to know that I will be putting down a deposit first thing on Monday morning.’
The young man pocketed the hundred-dollar bill, and nodded.
When Townsend arrived back in his room at the Carlyle, he immediately called Tom at his office. ‘What have you got planned for the weekend?’ he asked his lawyer.
‘A round of golf, a little gardening,’ said Tom. ‘And I was also hoping to watch my youngest pitch for his high school. But from the way you phrased that question, Keith, I have a feeling I won’t even be taking the train back to Greenwich.’
‘You’re right, Tom. We’ve got a lot of work to do before Monday morning if I’m going to be the next proprietor of the New York Star.’
‘Where do I start?’
‘With a lease that needs checking over before I sign it. Then I want you to close a deal with the one person who can make this all possible.’ When Townsend eventually put the phone down, he leaned back in his chair and gazed at the little red book that had kept him awake the previous night. A few moments later he picked it up, and turned to page 47.
For the first time in his life he was grateful for an Oxford education.
33
New York Times
11 December 1986
Star Wars
Armstrong signed the lease, then passed his pen to Russell, who witnessed the signature.
Lloyd Summers hadn’t stopped grinning since he’d arrived at Trump Tower that morning, and he almost leaped out of his chair when Russell added his signature to the lease on 147 Lower Broadway. He thrust out his hand at Armstrong and said, ‘Thank you, chairman. I can only say how much I’m looking forward to working with you.’
‘And I with you,’ said Armstrong, shaking his hand.
Summers bowed low in Armstrong’s direction, then gave a slightly lesser bow to Russell. He gathered up the lease and the draft for $300,000 before turning to leave the room. When he reached the door, he looked back and said, ‘You’ll never regret it.’
‘I fear you might, Dick,’ said Russell the moment the door was closed. ‘What made you change your mind?’
‘I didn’t have a lot of choice once I discovered what Townsend was up to.’
‘So that’s $3 million down the drain,’ said the lawyer.
‘Three hundred thousand,’ said Armstrong.
‘I don’t understand.’
‘I may have paid the deposit, but I have absolutely no intention of buying the bloody building.’
‘But he’ll issue a writ against you if you fail to complete within the thirty days.’
‘I doubt it,’ said Armstrong.
‘What makes you so sure?’
‘Because in a couple of weeks’ time you will phone his lawyer and tell him how horrified I was to discover that his client had signed a separate lease on a penthouse apartment above the gallery, having described it to me as an attic.’
‘That will be almost impossible to prove.’
Armstrong removed a small cassette from an inside pocket and handed it over to Russell. ‘It may be easier than you think.’
‘But this could well be inadmissible,’ said Russell, taking the tape.
‘Then you may just have to ask what would have happened to the $600,000 the agents were going to pay Summers over and above the original asking price.’
‘He’ll simply deny it, especially as you won’t have completed the contract.’
Armstrong paused for a moment. ‘Well, there’s always a last resort.’ He opened a drawer in his desk and withdrew a dummy front page of the Star. The headline read: ‘Lloyd Summers Indicted for Fraud.’
‘He’ll just issue another writ.’
‘Not after he’s read the inside pages.’
‘But by the time the trial comes around it will all be ancient history.’
‘Not as long as I’m proprietor of the Star, it won’t.’
‘How long will it all take?’ asked Townsend.
‘About twenty minutes would be my guess,’ Tom replied.
‘And how many people have you signed up?’
‘Just over two hundred.’
‘Will that be enough?’
‘It’s all I could manage at such short notice, so let’s hope so.’
‘Do they know what’s expected of them?’
‘They sure do. I took them through several rehearsals last night. But I still want you to address them before the meeting begins.’
‘And how about the lead player? Has she been rehearsing?’ Townsend asked.
‘She didn’t need to,’ said Tom. ‘She’s been understudying the part for some time.’
‘Did she agree to my terms?’
‘Didn’t even haggle.’
‘What about the lease? Any surprises there?’
‘No, it was just as she said it would be.’
Townsend stood up, walked across to the window and stared out over Central Park. ‘Will you be proposing the motion?’
‘No, I’ve asked Andrew Fraser to do that. I’m going to stick with you.’
‘Why did you pick Fraser?’
‘He’s the senior partner, which will ensure that the chairman realizes just how serious we are.’
Townsend swung round and faced his attorney. ‘So what can go wrong?’
When Armstrong walked out of the offices of Keating, Could & Critchley, accompanied by the senior partner, he was faced with a battery of cameramen, photographers and journalists, all hoping to get the same questions answered.
‘What changes do you intend to make, Mr. Armstrong, when you are the chairman of the Star?’
‘Why change a great institution?’ he replied. ‘In any case,’ he added, as he marched down the long corridor and out onto the sidewalk, ‘I’m not the sort of proprietor who interferes with the daily running of a paper. Ask any of my editors. They’ll tell you.’
One or two of the journalists who were chasing after him had already done so, but Armstrong had reached the relative safety of his limousine before they could follow up with any supplementaries.
‘Bloody hacks,’ he said, as the car set off in the direction of the Plaza Hotel where the Annual General Meeting of the Star shareholders was to be held. ‘You can’t even control the ones you own.’
Russell didn’t comment. As they proceeded down Fifth Avenue, Armstrong began glancing at his watch every few moments. Lights seemed to turn red just as they approached them. Or did you only ever notice such things when you were in a hurry? Armstrong looked out at the busy sidewalk and watched the natives of Manhattan streaming back and forth at a pace he now took for granted. As the lights turned green, he touched his breast pocket to check his acceptance speech was still in place. He had once read that Margaret Thatcher would never allow an aide to carry her speeches, because she had a dread of arriving on a platform without the script. He understood her anxiety for the first time.