When the 707 arrived at Kennedy it began to circle the airport. Richard looked out of his little window and could clearly see the building in Wall Street that he had to be at in two hours. He thumped his knee in anger. At last the plane descended a few hundred feet, only to start circling again.
“This is Captain James McEwen speaking. I am sorry for this delay, but we have been put into a holding pattern because of traffic congestion. It seems there are some delayed flights from London now arriving into New York.” Richard wondered if the Pan American flight from Heathrow would land before he did.
Five minutes, ten minutes, fifteen minutes. Richard checked the agenda. Item number one—a motion to reject the takeover bid by the Baron Group. Item number two—the issuing of new voting shares. If they couldn’t prove they had 51 percent, Jake Thomas would close the proceedings within minutes after the meeting began. The plane began to descend and the wheels touched the ground at twelve twenty-seven. Richard sprinted through the terminal. He passed his chauffeur on the run, who quickly followed him to the parking lot, where Richard once again checked his watch. An hour and twenty minutes to spare. He was going to make the meeting comfortably.
“Step on it,” said Richard.
“Yes, sir,” said the chauffeur as he moved into the left-hand lane of the Van Wyck Expressway. Richard heard the siren a few minutes later and a policeman on a motorcycle overtook the car and waved them on to the hard shoulder. The policeman parked and walked slowly toward Richard, who had already leaped out of the car. Richard tried to explain that it was a matter of life and death.
“It always is,” said the officer. “Either that or ‘My wife is having a baby.’” Richard left his chauffeur to deal with the policeman while he tried to hail a passing cab, but they were all full. Sixteen minutes later the policeman let them go. It was one twenty-nine as they crossed the Brooklyn Bridge and turned onto FDR Drive. Richard could see the skyscrapers of Wall Street in the distance, but the cars were bumper to bumper all the way. It was six minutes to two before they reached Wall Street, when Richard could bear it no longer and jumped out of the car, briefcase under one arm, a red London bus under the other, and sprinted the last three blocks, dodging slow pedestrians and fast-honking cab drivers. He heard the clock at Trinity Church chime two as he reached Bowling Green and prayed that it was fast as he raced up the steps of the Lester’s building, suddenly realizing he didn’t know where the meeting was being held.
“Fifty-first floor, sir,” the doorman informed him.
The 30 to 60 elevator was full with the post-lunch-hour crowd and it stopped at 31—33—34—42—44—47—50—51. Richard jumped out of the elevator and ran down the corridor, following the red arrow that indicated where the meeting was taking place. As he arrived in the crowded room, one or two faces turned to look at him. There must have been over five hundred people seated listening to the chairman, but he was the only shareholder sweating from head to toe. He was greeted by the sight of a cool Jake Thomas, who gave him a knowing smile from the platform. Richard realized he was too late. Florentyna was sitting in the front row, her head bowed. He took a seat at the back of the room and listened to the chairman of Lester’s.
“All of us believe that the decision that has been made today is in the best interests of the bank. In the circumstances that your board of directors faced, no one will have been surprised by my request, and Lester’s will now continue its traditional role as one of America’s great financial institutions. Item number two,” said Jake Thomas. Richard felt sick. “My final task as chairman of Lester’s is to propose that the new chairman be Mr. Richard Kane.”
Richard could not believe his ears. A little old lady rose from her seat in the front row and said that she would like to second the motion because she felt that Mr. Kane’s father had been one of the finest chairmen the bank had ever had. There was a round of applause as the old lady sat down.
“Thank you,” said Jake Thomas. “Those in favor of the resolution?” Richard stared into the body of the hall as hands shot into the air.
“Those against,” Jake Thomas looked down from the platform. “Good, the resolution is carried unanimously. I am now happy to invite your new chairman to address you. Ladies and gentlemen, Mr. Richard Kane.” Richard walked forward and everyone stood and applauded. As he passed Florentyna he handed her the red bus.
“Glad you accomplished something on your trip to London,” she whispered.
Richard walked, dazed, onto the platform. Jake Thomas shook his hand and then took a seat on the end of the row.
“I have little to say on this occasion,” began Richard, “other than to assure you that I wish Lester’s to carry on in the same tradition as it did under my father and that I will dedicate myself to that end.” Unable to think of anything else to add, he smiled and said, “I thank you for your attendance today and look forward to seeing you all at the annual meeting.” There followed another round of applause and the shareholders began to disperse, chattering.
As soon as they could escape from those who wished to buttonhole Richard, either to congratulate him or to tell him how they felt Lester’s should be run, Florentyna led him away to the chairman’s office. He stood and stared at the portrait of his father that hung over the fireplace and turned to his wife.
“How did you manage it, Jessie?”
“Well, I remembered a piece of advice my governess had taught me when I was younger. Contingency, Miss Tredgold used to say. Always have a contingency plan ready in case it rains. When you called from Montreal I was afraid there might be an outside chance it would pour and you wouldn’t make the meeting. So I called Thaddeus Cohen and explained what my contingency plan was and he spent the morning drawing up the necessary documents.”
“What documents?” said Richard.
“Patience, Mr. Kane. I do feel after my triumph that I have the right to spin out this tale a little longer.”
Richard remained impatiently silent.
“When I had the vital document in my hand, I phoned Jake Thomas and asked if he could see me twenty minutes before the stockholders’ meeting was due to start. Had you arrived in time, I would have canceled the confrontation with Mr. Thomas, but you didn’t.”
“But your plan—”
“My father—no fool—told me once a skunk, always a skunk, and he turned out to be right. At the meeting with Thomas, I informed him that we were in possession of fifty-one percent of Lester’s stock. He was disbelieving until I mentioned the name of Sir Colin Emson, and then he turned quite pale. I placed the whole bundle of certificates on the table in front of him and, before he could check them, told him that if he sold me his two percent before two o’clock I would still pay him the full fourteen dollars per share. I added that he must also sign a document saying he would resign as chairman and make no attempt to interfere in any future dealings involving Lester’s Bank. For good measure, although it was not in the contract, he must propose you for chairman.”
“My God, Jessie, you have the nerve of ten men.”
“No. One woman.”
Richard laughed. “What was Thomas’s response?”
“Asked what I would do if he refused. If you refuse, I told him, we’ll sack you publicly without compensation for loss of office. Then I pointed out to him that he would have to sell his stock for the best price he could get on the open market because as long as we had fifty-one percent of Lester’s he would play no part in the future of the bank.”
“And then?”
“He signed there and then without even consulting his fellow directors.”
“Brilliant, Jessie, both in conception and execution.”
“Thank you, Mr. Kane. I do hope that now you are chairman of a bank you won’t be running all over the world getting yourself delayed, missing meetings and having nothing to show for your troubles other than a model of a red London bus. By the way, did you remember to bring a present for Annabel?”
Richard looked embarrassed. Florentyna
bent down and handed him an F. A. O. Schwarz shopping bag. He lifted out a package that showed a picture of a toy typewriter on the outside with “Made in England” printed all along the bottom of the box.
“Just not your day is it, Mr. Kane? By the way, Neil Armstrong got back quicker than you did. Perhaps we should invite him to join the board?”
Richard read Vermont Royster’s article in The Wall Street Journal the next morning:
Richard Kane seems to have won a bloodless coup in his bid to become chairman of Lester’s. There was no vote taken by shareholders at the extraordinary meeting, and his succession to the chair was proposed by the retiring incumbent, Jake Thomas, and carried unanimously.
Many stockholders present at the meeting referred to the traditions and standards set by the late William Lowell Kane, the present chairman’s father. Lester’s stock ended the day up two points on the New York Exchange.
“That’s the last we’ll hear of Jake Thomas,” said Florentyna.
Chapter
Twenty-Four
Richard had never heard of Major Abanjo before that morning. Neither had anyone else in America other than those who took an overzealous interest in the affairs of Nambawe, Central Africa’s smallest state. Nevertheless, it was Major Abanjo who caused Richard to run late for his most important appointment that day, the eleventh birthday of his only son.
When Richard arrived back at the apartment on Sixty-fourth Street, Major Abanjo was driven from his mind by Annabel, who had a few minutes earlier poured a pot of tea over William’s hand because she wasn’t receiving enough attention. She hadn’t realized that it was boiling hot. It seemed that Carol had been in the kitchen fussing over the birthday cake at the time. Annabel was getting even less attention now that William was screaming at the top of his voice, and all the other children had to be sent home. A few minutes later Annabel was also screaming, after Richard had placed her across his knee and administered six hard whacks with his slipper before both children were put to bed—William with two aspirins and an ice bag to help him sleep and Annabel as a further punishment. Eleven candles—and one to grow on—had burned themselves down to the icing on the large cake that remained untouched on the dining room table.
“I’m afraid William will have a scar on his right hand for the rest of his life,” said Florentyna after she had checked to see that her son was at last asleep.
“Still, he took it like a man.”
“I don’t agree,” said Florentyna. “He never once grumbled.”