‘...they wouldn’t give a damn about Armstrong’s 46 percent stockholding in the New York Star.’
‘It’s a bit late to be worrying about that,’ said Tom. ‘You’ve already lost overall control of that paper.’
‘Not yet, I haven’t,’ said Townsend. ‘We’re still going through the process of due diligence. I’m not required to sign the completion documents until next Monday.’
‘But what about the New York Tribune?’ asked Tom. ‘Armstrong may be dead, but you’d simply inherit all his problems. Whatever he claimed to the contrary, that paper is still losing over a million dollars a week.’
‘But it won’t be if I do what Armstrong should have done in the first place, and close the paper down,’ said Townsend. ‘That way I’d create a monopoly in this city which no one would ever be able to challenge.’
‘But even if you squared the British government and the Monopolies and Mergers Commission, what makes you think the board of Armstrong Communications will fall in with your cozy little plan?’
‘Because not only will I be replenishing their pension fund, but I would also allow the management to retain control of the Citizen. And we wouldn’t be breaking the law, because the surplus in our pension fund more than covers the shortfall in theirs.’
‘I still think they’d put up one hell of a fight to prevent you,’ said Tom.
‘Not when the Globe reminds the Citizen’s 35,000 former employees every morning that there’s a simple solution to their pension problem. Within days they’ll be demonstrating outside Armstrong House, demanding that the board go along with the merger.’
‘But that also assumes Parliament will wear it,’ said Tom. ‘Think of those Labor members who detest you even more than they did Armstrong.’
‘I’ll just have to make sure that those same members receive sackfuls of letters from their constituents, reminding them that they are only months away from an election, and that if they expect them to vote...’
Keith looked up to see E.B. standing in the doorway. She stared at him in the same way she had on the first day they met.
‘Mr. Townsend,’ she said. ‘Less than fifteen minutes ago, you and I came to an agreement, an agreement on which you gave your solemn oath. Or does your memory not stretch back that far?’
Keith’s cheeks reddened slightly, and then a smile slowly appeared on his face. ‘I’m sorry, E.B.,’ he said, ‘I lied.’