The Fourth Estate

“I’m not sure,” he replied. “But I’m booked in every afternoon from three to six for the next fortnight, including weekends.” He took a large gulp of whiskey and added, “And she’s taken away my credit cards.”

“That’s a good sign,” said Grenville. “It shows that she hasn’t given up on you. Sometimes E.B. simply sends the files down a floor as soon as the first meeting is concluded.”

“Am I supposed to feel grateful?” asked Townsend when he had drained his whiskey.

“No, just temporarily relieved,” said Grenville. “Do you still feel up to attending the bankers’ dinner tonight?” he asked as he poured Townsend a second whiskey.

“Well, I was hoping to join you,” replied Townsend. “But she,” he said, pointing down at the floor, “has set me so much homework to be completed by three tomorrow afternoon that…”

“I think it would be wise if you were to put in an appearance tonight, Keith. Your absence might easily, in the present circumstances, be misinterpreted.”

“That may be true. But won’t she send me home even before they’ve served the entrée?”

“I doubt it, because I’ve placed you on her right-hand side. It’s all part of my strategy to convince the banking world that we’re 100 percent behind you.”

“Hell. What’s she like socially?”

The chairman considered the question only briefly before saying, “I must confess, E.B. doesn’t have a great deal of small talk.”

37.

Daily Mail

2 July 1991

CHARLES AND DIANA: “CAUSE FOR CONCERN”

“There’s a call from Switzerland on line one, Mr. Armstrong,” said the temporary secretary whose name he couldn’t remember. “He says his name is Jacques Lacroix. I’m also holding another call from London on line two.”

“Who’s calling from London?” asked Armstrong.

“A Mr. Peter Wakeham.”

“Ask him to hold, and put the call from Switzerland straight through.”

“Is that you, Dick?”

“Yes, Jacques. How are you, old friend?” Armstrong boomed.

“A little disturbed, Dick,” came the softly-spoken reply from Geneva.

“Why?” asked Armstrong. “I deposited a check for $50 million with your New York branch last week. I even have a receipt for it.”

“I am not disputing the fact that you deposited the check,” said Lacroix. “The purpose of this call is to let you know that it has been returned to the bank today, marked ‘Refer to drawer.’”

“There must be some mistake,” said Armstrong. “I know that account still has more than enough to cover the sum in question.”

“That may well be the case. But someone is nevertheless refusing to release any of those funds to us, and indeed has made it clear, through the usual channels, that they will not in future honor any checks presented on that account.”

“I’ll ring them immediately,” said Armstrong, “and call you straight back.”

“I would be grateful if you did,” said Lacroix.

Armstrong rang off and noticed that the light on top of the phone was flashing. He remembered that Wakeham was still holding on line two, grabbed the receiver and said, “Peter, what the hell is going on over there?”

“I’m not too sure myself,” admitted Peter. “All I can tell you is that Paul Maitland and Eric Chapman visited me at home late last night, and asked if I had signed any checks on the pension fund account. I said exactly what you told me to say, but I got the impression that Maitland has now given orders to stop any checks that have my signature on them.”

“Who the hell do they think they are?” bawled Armstrong. “It’s my company, and I’ll do as I see fit.”