‘He can and he may well. Try to remember that he’s the president of a small bank in Ohio. He’s not interested in what other banks have agreed to. And after all the bad press coverage you’ve been getting in the past few weeks, he only cares about one thing right now.’
‘What’s that?’
‘Covering his backside.’
‘But doesn’t he realize that all the other banks will renege if he doesn’t go along with the overall plan?’
‘Yes, he does, but when I put that to him he shrugged his shoulders and said, “In which case I’ll just have to take my chance along with all the others.”’
Townsend began to curse.
‘But he did promise me one thing,’ said E.B.
‘What was that?’
‘He’ll call the moment the committee has reached its decision.’
‘That’s big of him. So what am I expected to do if it goes against me?’
‘Release the press statement we agreed on,’ she said.
Townsend felt sick.
Twenty minutes later he dashed out of the terminal. A limousine was waiting for him, and he climbed into the back before the driver could open the door for him. The first thing he did was to dial his apartment in Manhattan. Kate must have been waiting by the phone, because she answered immediately.
‘Have you heard anything from Cleveland yet?’ was her first question.
‘Yes. E.B.’s seen Pierson, but he still hasn’t made up his mind,’ replied Townsend, as the car joined the bumper-to-bumper traffic on Queens Boulevard.
‘What do you think the odds are on him extending the loan?’
‘I asked E.B. the same question yesterday, and she said fifty-fifty.’
‘I just wish he’d put us out of our misery.’
‘He will soon enough.’
‘Well, the moment he does, be sure I’m the first person you call, whatever the outcome.’
‘Of course you’ll be the first person I call,’ he said, putting the phone down.
Townsend’s second call, as the limousine crossed the Queensboro Bridge, was to Tom Spencer. He hadn’t heard anything either. ‘But I wouldn’t expect to until after E.B. has briefed you,’ he said. ‘That’s just not her style.’
‘As soon as I know what Pierson’s decided, we’d better get together to discuss what has to be done next.’
‘Sure,’ said Tom. ‘Just give me a call the moment you hear anything and I’ll come straight over.’
The driver swung into Madison Avenue and eased the limousine into the right-hand lane before pulling up outside the headquarters of Global International. He was taken by surprise when Mr. Townsend leaned forward and thanked him for the first time in twenty years. But he was shocked when he opened the door and the boss said, ‘Goodbye.’
The chairman of Global International strode quickly across the sidewalk and into the building. He headed straight for the bank of elevators and entered the first one that returned to the ground floor. Although the lobby was full of Global employees, none of them attempted to join him, except a bellhop who jumped in and turned a key in a lock next to the top button. The doors slid closed and the elevator began to accelerate toward the forty-seventh floor.
When the lift doors opened again, Townsend stepped out into the thickly carpeted corridor of the executive floor and walked straight past a receptionist who looked up and smiled at him. She was about to say ‘Good morning, Mr. Townsend,’ when she saw the grim expression on his face and thought better of it.
Townsend’s pace never faltered as the glass doors that led to his office area slid open.
‘Messages?’ was all he said as he passed his secretary’s desk and headed toward his office.
40
The Globe
5 November 1991
Search for Missing Tycoon
‘Good morning, gentlemen,’ Armstrong said in a loud, cheerful voice, but he received only the odd murmur in response. Sir Paul Maitland gave a slight nod as Armstrong took the vacant place on his right. Armstrong looked slowly round the boardroom table. Every seat was filled except for the deputy chairman’s.
‘As everyone is present other than Mr. Wakeham,’ said Sir Paul, checking his fob watch, ‘who has already tendered his apologies to the company secretary, I suggest we begin. Can I ask if you all accept the minutes which have been circulated of last month’s board meeting as a true and accurate record?’
Everyone nodded except Armstrong.
‘Good. Then the first item on the agenda is the one we discussed at great length during our recent finance meeting,’ continued Sir Paul, ‘namely the current position of the pension fund. On that occasion Mr. Wakeham did his best to brief us following his short trip to New York, but I fear several questions still remain unanswered. We came to the conclusion that only our chief executive could properly bring us up to date on what was actually taking place in New York. I am relieved to see that he has found it possible to join us on this occasion, so perhaps I should begin by...’
‘No, perhaps it is I who should begin,’ interrupted Armstrong, ‘by giving you a full explanation of why it was impossible for me to attend last month’s board meeting.’ Sir Paul pursed his lips, folded his arms and stared at the unoccupied chair at the other end of the table.
‘I remained at my desk in New York, gentlemen,’ continued Armstrong, ‘because I was the only person with whom the print unions were willing to negotiate — as I am sure Peter Wakeham confirmed at last month’s board meeting. Because of this, not only did I pull off what some commentators described as a miracle—’ Sir Paul glanced down at a leader that had appeared in the New York Tribune the previous week, which did indeed use the word ‘miracle’—‘but I am now able to confirm to the board something else I asked Mr. Wakeham to pass on to you, namely that the Tribune has finally turned the corner, and for the past month has been making a positive contribution to our P and L account.’ Armstrong paused before adding, ‘And what’s more, it is doing so for the first time since we took the paper over.’ Several members of the board seemed unable to look in his direction. Others who did were not indicating approval. ‘Perhaps I deserve some praise for this monumental achievement,’ Armstrong said, ‘rather than the continual carping criticism I get from a chairman whose idea of enterprise is to feed the ducks on Epsom Downs.’
Sir Paul looked as if he was about to protest, but Armstrong waved a hand in the air and, raising his voice, said, ‘Allow me to finish.’ The chairman sat bolt upright, his fingers gripping the arms of his chair, his gaze still fixed rigidly ahead of him.
‘Now, as far as the pension fund is concerned,’ continued Armstrong, ‘the company secretary will be in a better position than I am to confirm that we are holding a considerable surplus in that account, a little of which I used — quite legitimately — for investments in the United States. It may also interest the board to know that I have recently been in confidential negotiations with Keith Townsend, with a view to taking over the New York Star.’ Most of the directors looked stunned by the announcement, and this time all of them turned to face him.
‘It’s no secret,’ continued Armstrong, ‘that Townsend is in deep financial trouble following his foolhardy takeover of Multi Media, for which he paid three billion dollars. The board will recall that only last year I recommended we should offer no more than one and a half billion for that particular company, and in hindsight it turns out that my judgment was correct. I have now been able to take advantage of Townsend’s disastrous mistake and make him an offer for his shares in the Star that would not have been thought possible only six months ago.’