The Fourth Estate

The phone rang again, but he remained puzzled as to why Sally was being besieged until he came to the final paragraph of the article. “The key to this information is held b

y Captain Richard Armstrong MC, who controls the translation rights in all the publications of the prestigious Julius Hahn empire.”

Within days, the phrase “We’ll get back to you, Captain Armstrong,” became “I’m sure we can match those terms, Dick,” and he began selecting which houses would be allowed to publish his manuscripts and distribute his magazines. People he had never been able to get an appointment with in the past were inviting him to lunch at the Garrick, even if, having met him, they didn’t go as far as suggesting he should become a member.

By the end of the year Armstrong had finally returned the £1,000, and it was no longer possible for Colonel Oakshott to convince Hahn that his chairman was still having a tough time getting anyone to sign a contract. Oakshott was glad Hahn couldn’t see that the Dodge had been replaced by a Bentley, and that Benson was now wearing a smart gray uniform and a peaked cap. Armstrong’s newest problem was to find suitable new offices and qualified staff, so that he could keep up with the rapid expansion. When the floors above and below him fell vacant, he signed new leases for them within hours.

It was at the annual reunion of the North Staffordshire Regiment at the Café Royal that Armstrong bumped into Major Wakeham. He discovered that Peter had just been demobbed, and was about to take up a job in personnel with the Great Western Railway. Armstrong spent the rest of the evening persuading him that Armstrong Communications was a better prospect. Peter joined him as general manager the following Monday.

Once Peter had settled in, Armstrong began to travel all over the world—from Montreal to New York to Tokyo to Christchurch—selling Hahn manuscripts, and always demanding large advances. He began to place the money in several different bank accounts, with the result that even Sally couldn’t be quite sure just how much the company had on deposit at any one time, or where it was located. Whenever he was back in England, he found his small staff quite unable to keep up with the demands of an ever-growing order book. And Charlotte had become tired of him commenting on how much the children had grown.

When the lease for the entire building in Fleet Street came on the market, he immediately snapped it up. Now even the most skeptical potential customer who visited him in his new offices accepted that Captain Armstrong was safe to do business with. Rumors reached Berlin of Armstrong’s success, but Hahn’s letters requesting details of sales figures country by country, sight of all overseas contracts and audited accounts were studiously ignored.

Colonel Oakshott, who was left to report Hahn’s growing incredulity at Armstrong’s claims that the company was having difficulty in breaking even, was treated more and more like a messenger boy, despite the fact that he had recently been appointed deputy chairman. But even after Oakshott threatened to resign, and Stephen Hallet warned Armstrong that he had received a letter from Hahn’s London solicitors threatening to terminate their partnership, Armstrong remained unperturbed. He felt confident that as long as the law prevented Hahn from traveling outside Germany, he had no way of discovering how large his empire had grown, and therefore how much 50 percent actually represented.

* * *

Within weeks of Winston Churchill’s government being returned to power in 1951, all restrictions on travel for German citizens were lifted. Armstrong was not surprised to learn from the colonel that Hahn’s and Schultz’s first trip abroad would be to London.

After a long consultation with a KC at Gray’s Inn, the two Germans took a taxi to Fleet Street for a meeting with their overseas partner. Hahn’s habit of punctuality had not deserted him in old age, and Sally met the two men in reception. She guided them up to Dick’s vast new office, and hoped they were suitably impressed by the hustle and bustle of activity that was taking place all around them.

They entered Armstrong’s office to be greeted with the expansive smile they both remembered so well. Schultz was shocked by how much weight the captain had put on, and didn’t care for his colorful bow tie.

“Welcome, my dear old friends,” Armstrong began, holding out his arms like a large bear. “It has been far too long.” He appeared surprised to receive a cool response, but he ushered them to the comfortable seats on the other side of his partner’s desk, then returned to an elevated chair which allowed him to tower over them. Behind him on the wall hung a large blown-up photograph of Field Marshal Montgomery pinning the Military Cross on the young captain’s chest.

Once Sally had poured his guests Brazilian coffee served in bone china cups, Hahn wasted no time in trying to tell Armstrong—as he referred to him—the purpose of their visit. He was just about to embark on his well-prepared speech when one of the four phones on the desk began ringing. Armstrong grabbed it, and Hahn assumed that he would instruct his secretary to hold all further calls. But instead he began an intense conversation in Russian. No sooner had he finished than another phone rang, and he started a fresh dialogue in French. Hahn and Schultz hid their misgivings and waited patiently for Captain Armstrong to complete the calls.

“So sorry,” said Armstrong, after he had finally put the third phone down, “but as you can see, the damn thing never stops ringing. And 50 percent of it,” he added with a broad smile, “is on your behalf.”

Hahn was just about to begin his speech a second time, when Armstrong pulled open his top drawer and took out a box of Havana cigars, a sight neither of his guests had seen for over ten years. He pushed the box across the desk. Hahn waved a hand in dismissal, and Schultz reluctantly followed his chairman’s lead.

Hahn tried to begin a third time.

“By the way,” said Armstrong, “I’ve booked a table for lunch at the Savoy Grill. Anybody who’s anybody eats at the Grill.” He gave them another expansive smile.

“We are not free for lunch,” said Hahn curtly.

“But we have so much to discuss,” insisted Armstrong, “not least catching up on old times.”

“We have very little to discuss,” said Hahn. “Especially old times.”

Armstrong was silenced for a moment.

“I am sorry to have to inform you, Captain Armstrong,” Hahn continued, “that we have decided to terminate our arrangement with you.”

“But that’s not possible,” said Armstrong. “We have a binding legal agreement.”

“You have obviously not read the document for some time,” said Hahn. “If you had, you would be only too aware of the penalties for failing to fulfill your financial obligations to us.”

“But I intend to fulfill…”

“‘In the event of non-payment, after twelve months all overseas rights automatically revert to the parent company.’” Hahn sounded as if he knew the clause off by heart.

“But I can clear all my obligations immediately,” said Armstrong, not at all certain that he could.

“That would not influence my decision,” said Hahn.

“But the contract stipulates that you must give me ninety days’ notice in writing,” said Armstrong, remembering one of the clauses Stephen Hallet had emphasized recently.