The Fourth Estate (80 page)

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Authors: Jeffrey Archer

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The first
opportunity to escape E.B.’s interrogationTownsend’s answers having already
filled the back of two menu cards-arrived when a waiter came between them to
top up his wine glass. He immediately turned to Carol Grenville, the bank
chairman’s wife, who was seated on his left.

The only
questions Carol wanted answering were “How are Kate and the children?” and
“Have you seen the revival of Guys and DollS?”

“Have you seen
the revival of Guys and Dolls, Dick?” the governor asked.

“I can’t say I
have, Mario,” replied Armstrong. “What with trying to run the most successful
newspapers in New York and London, I just don’t seem to find the time for the
theater nowadays. And frankly, with an election coming up, I’m surprised you
can either.”

“Never forget,
Dick, that voters go to the theater as well,” said the governor. “And if you
sit in the fifth row of the stalls, three thousand of them see you at once.
They’re always pleased to discover that you have the same tastes they do.”

Armstrong
laughed. “I’d never make a politician,” he said, putting a hand up. A few
moments later a waiter appeared by his side. “Can I have a little more?”
Armstrong whispered.

“Certainly,
sir,” said the top-table waiter, although he could have sworn that he had already
given Mr. Armstrong a second helping.

Armstrong
glanced to his right at David Dinkins, and noticed that he was only picking at
his food-a habit common among after-dinner speakers, he had found over the
years. The mayor, head down, was checking his typewritten text, making the
occasional change with a Four Seasons ballpoint pen.

Armstrong made
no attempt to interrupt him, and noticed that when Dinkins was offered a cr~me
bi-616e he waved it away. Armstrong suggested to the waiter that he should
leave it on one side, in case the mayor changed his mind. By the time Dinkins
had finished going over his speech, Armstrong had devoured his dessert. He was
delighted to see a plate of petits fours placed between them a few moments
after the coffee had been poured.

During the
speeches that followed, Townsend became distracted. He tried not to dwell on
his current problems, but when the applause had died down after the President
of the Bankers’Association had given his vote of thanks, he realized he could
barely recall anything that had been said.

“The speeches
were excellent, didn’t you think?” said David Grenville, from the other side of
the table. I doubt if a more distinguished line-up will address an audience in
New York this year.”

“You’re probably
right,” said Townsend. His only thought now was how long he would have to hang
around before E.B. would allow him to go home. When lie glanced to his right,
he saw that her eyes were fixed firmly on the top table.

“Keith,” said a
voice from behind him, and he turned to receive the bearhug for which the mayor
of New York was famous. Townsend accepted that there had to be some
disadvantages in being the proprietor of the Star.

“Good evening,
Mr. Mayor,” he said. “How good to see you again. May I congratulate you on your
excellent speech.”

“Thank you,
Keith, but that wasn’t why I came to have a word with you.”

He jabbed a
finger at Townsend’s chest. “Why do I have the feeling that your editor has got
it in for me? I know he’s Irish, but I want you to ask him how I can be
expected to give the NYPD another pay increase, when the city’s already run out
of money for this year. Does he want me to raise taxes again, orjust let the
city go bankrupt?”

Townsend would
have recommended that the mayor employ F.B. to sort out the problem of the
police department, but when David Dinkins finally stopped talking, he agreed to
have a word with his editor in the morning.

Though he did
point out that it had always been his policy not to interfere in the editorial
input of any of his papers.

E.B. raised an
eyebrow, which indicatedjust how meticulously she must have been through his
files.

“I’m grateful,
Keith,” said the mayor. “I was sure that once I’d explained what I’m up
against, you’d appreciate my position-although you can hardly be expected to
know what it’s like not to be able to pay your bills at the end of the month.”

The mayor looked
over Townsend’s shoulder, and announced at the top of his voice, “Now there’s a
man who never gives me any trouble.”

Townsend and
E.B. turned round to see who he was referring to. The mayor was pointing in the
direction of Richard Armstrong.

“I assume you
two are old friends,” he said, holding his arms out to them both. One of them
might have answered the question if Dinkins hadn’t walked off to continue his
milk round. Elizabeth retreated discreetly, but not so far that she couldn’t
hear every word that passed between them.

“So, how are
you, Dick?” asked Townsend, who had not the slightest interest in Armstrong’s
well-being.

“Never better,”
Armstrong replied, turning to blow a mouthful of cigar smoke in Elizabeth’s
direction.

“It must be
quite a relief for you to have finally settled with the unions.”

‘They were left
with no choice in the end said Armstrong. “Either they agreed to my terms, or I
would have closed the paper down.”

Russell walked
quietly over and hovered behind them.

“At a price,”
said T)wnsend.

“A price I can
well afford,” said Armstrong. “Especially now that the paper has begun showing
a profit every week. I only hope you’ll eventually find that possible at Multi
Media.” He drew deeply on his cigar.

‘That’s never
been a problem for Multi Media since day one,” said Townsend.

“With the sort
of cash flow that company generates, my biggest worry is to make sure we have
enough staff to bank the money.”

1 have to admit
that coughing up three billion for that cowboy outfit showed you’ve got balls.
I only offered Henry Sinclair one and a half billion, and then not until my
accountants had gone over his books with a magnifying glass.”

In different
cirvumstances Townsend might have reminded him that at the Lord Mayor’s Dinner
at the Guildhall the previous year, Arrnstrong had told him that he had offered
Sinclair two and a half billion, despite the fact that they wouldn’t let him
even see the accounts – but not while E.B. was only a couple of paces away.

 

Armstrong sucked
deeply on his cigar before delivering his next well-rehearsed line. “Do you
still have enough time to keep an eye on my interests at the Star?”

“More than
enough, thank you,” Townsend replied. “And although it may not have the
circulation figures of the Tribune, I’m sure you’d be happy to exchange them
for the Star’s profits.”

“By this time
next year,” said Armstrong, “I can assure you that the Tribune will he ahead of
the Star on both counts.”

It was Russell’s
turn to raise an eyebrow.

“Well, let’s
compare notes at next year’s dinner,” said Townsend. “By then it should be
clear for anyone to see.”

“As long as I
control 100 percent of the Tribune and 46 percent of the Star, I’m bound to win
either way,” said Armstrong.

Elizabeth
frowned.

“In fact, if
Multi Media is worth three billion dollars,” Armstrong continued, “my shares in
the Star must be worth at least a hundred million of anyone’s money.”

“if that’s the
case,” said Townsend, a little too quickly, “mine must be worth well over a
hundred million.”

“So perhaps the
time has come for one of us to buy the other out,” said Armstrong.

Both men fell
silent. Russell and Elizabeth glanced at each other.

“What did you
have in mind?” Townsend eventually asked.

Russell turned
his attention back to his client, not quite sure how he would react. This was a
question for which they hadn’t rehearsed a reply.

“I’d be willing
to sacrifice my 46 percent of the Star for... let’s say one hundred million.”

Elizabeth
wondered how Townsend would have responded to such an offer if she hadn’t been
there.

“Not
interested,” he said. “But I tell you what I’ll do. If you think your shares
are worth a hundred million, I’ll let mine go for exactly the same amount. I
couldn’t make you a fairer offer.”

Three people
tried not to blink as they waited for Armstrong’s reaction.

Armstrong
inhaled once again before leaning across the table and stubbing out the remains
of his cigar in Elizabeth’s cri!me brOli6e. “No,” he finally said as he lit up
another cigar. He puffed away for a few seconds before adding, “I’m quite happy
to wait for you to put your stock on the open market, because then I’ll be able
to pick it up for a third of the price. That way I’d control both tabloids in
this city, and there are no prizes for guessing which one I’d close down
first.” He laughed, and turning to his lawyer for the first time said, “Come
on, Russell, it’s time we were on our way.”

Townsend stood there,
barely able to control himself.

“Let me know if
you have a change of heart,” said Armstrong loudly as he headed in the
direction of the exit. The moment he felt sure he was out of earshot, he turned
to his lawyer and said,”That man’s so strapped for cash he was trying to sell
me his shares.”

“it certainly
looked that way,” said Russell. “I must confess that was one scenario I hadn’t
anticipated.”

“What chance do
I now have of selling my stock in the Stao”

“Not much of
one,” said Russell. “After that conversation it won’t be long before everyone
in this city knows he’s a seller. Then any other potential buyer will assume
that you’re both trying to offload your stock before the other gets the chance
to.”

“And if I were
to put mine on the open market, what do you think they might fetch?”

“If you placed
that quantity of shares on the market in one tranche, it would be assumed you
were dumping them, in which case you’d be lucky to get twenty million. In a
successful sale there has to be a willing buyer and a reluctant seller. At the
moment this deal seems to have two desperate sellers.”

“What
alternatives am I left with?” asked Armstrong as they walked toward the
limousine.

“He’s left us
with virtually no alternative,” E.B. replied. “I’m going to have to find a
third party who’s willing to buy your shares in the Star, and preferably before
Armstrong’s forced to dump his.”

“Why go down
that route?” asked Townsend.

“Because I have
a feeling that Mr. Armstrong is in even worse trouble than you.”

“What makes you say
that?”

“My eyes never
left him, and once the speeches were over the first thing he did was to head
straight for this table.”

“What does that
prove?”

“Fhat he had
only one purpose in mind,” replied E.B. “To sell you his shares in the Star,”

A thin smile
appeared on Townsend’s face. “So why don’t we buy them?” he said. “if I could
get my hands on his holding, I might – . .”

“Mr. Townsend,
don’t even think about it.”

CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE

FINANCIALTIMES

I NOVEMBER 1991

N
ewspaper
Groups’Shares in Free Fall BY THE TIME Townsend boarded the plane for Honolulu,
Elizabeth Beresford was already halfway across the Atlantic. During the past
three weeks he had been put through the toughest examination of his life-and,
like all examinations, it would be some time before the results were known.

E.B. had
questioned, probed and investigated every aspect of every deal he had ever been
involved in. She now knew more about him than his mother, wife, children and
the IRS put together. In fact Townsend wondered if there was anything she
didn’t know-other than what he had been up to in the school pavilion with the
headmaster’s daughter. And if he’d paid for that, she would doubtless have
insisted on being told the precise details of the transaction.

 

When he arrived
back at the apartment each night, exhausted, he would go over the latest
position with Kate. “I’m certain of only one thing,” he often repeated. “My
chances of survival now rest entirely in the hands of that woman.”

They had
completed stage one: E.B. accepted that the company was technically solvent.
She then turned her attention to stage two: the disposal of assets. When she
told Townsend that Mrs. Summers wanted to buy back her shares in the New York
Star, he reluctantly agreed. But at least E.B. allowed him to retain his
controlling interest in the Melbourne Courier and the Adelaide Gazette. He was
however made to sell off the Pertb Sunday Monitor and the Continent in exchange
for keeping the Sydney Cbronicle. He also had to sacrifice his minority
interest in his Australian television channel and all the non-contributing
subsidiary companies in Multi Media, so that he could go on publishing TVNews.

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