37

WHEN DAWN BROKE William was already awake, having managed to sleep only fitfully. He rose a little after six, had a cold shower, went for a long walk through Central Park to clear his head and returned to the Yale Club for a light breakfast. There was a message waiting for him in the front hall from his wife. He read it, and laughed out loud. ‘If you’re not too busy, could you remember to buy a New York Yankees baseball cap for Richard?’

He picked up a copy of The Wall Street Journal, which was still running the story of friction in Lester’s boardroom over the selection of a new chairman. It now had Parfitt’s version of events, hinting that his appointment would be confirmed at Thursday’s board meeting. William wondered whose version would be reported in tomorrow’s paper. How he would have liked to read Friday’s Journal now.

After another call to Thomas Cohen, he spent the morning double-checking the articles of incorporation and the bylaws of Lester’s Bank. He skipped lunch in favour of F.A.O. Schwarz, where he bought a baseball cap for his son.

At two-thirty he took a cab to Lester’s Bank in Wall Street, and arrived outside the front door a few minutes before three. The young doorman asked him who he had an appointment with.

‘I’m William Kane.’

‘Yes, sir. You’ll want the boardroom.’

Good Heavens, thought William, I don’t even know where it is.

The doorman noticed his embarrassment. ‘Take the corridor on the left, sir, and it’s the second door on the right.’

‘Thank you,’ said William, and walked slowly down the long corridor. Until that moment, he had always thought the expression ‘butterflies in the stomach’ a stupid one. He felt that his heartbeat must be louder than the ticking of the clock in the hall; he would not have been surprised to hear himself chiming three o’clock.

Ted Leach was standing at the entrance to the boardroom. ‘There’s going to be trouble,’ were his opening words.

‘That’s hardly a surprise,’ said William. ‘But that’s the way Charles Lester would have liked it, because he always faced trouble head on.’

William strode into the impressive oak-panelled room, where a number of men were standing in groups of two or three, deep in conversation. He did not need to count heads to know that every director was present. This was not going to be one of those board meetings a director could afford to miss. The buzz of talk ceased the moment William entered the room. He took the chairman’s place at the head of the long mahogany table before Peter Parfitt could realize what was happening.

‘Gentlemen, please be seated,’ he said, hoping his voice sounded authoritative.

Ted Leach and some of the other directors took their seats immediately; others seemed more reluctant.

‘Before anyone says anything,’ began William, ‘I would, if you will allow me, like to make a brief opening statement, and then you can decide how you wish to proceed. I feel that’s the least we can do to comply with the wishes of the late Charles Lester.’

One or two reluctant board members took their seats. Every eye in the room was fixed on William.

‘Thank you, gentlemen. To start with, I would like to make it clear to all of you that I have absolutely no desire to be the chairman of this bank’ – he paused for effect – ‘unless it is the wish of the majority of its directors. I am, gentlemen, at present deputy chairman of Kane and Cabot, and own fifty-one per cent of that bank’s stock. Kane and Cabot was founded by my grandfather, and I think it compares favourably in reputation, if not in size, with Lester’s. Were I required to leave Boston and move to New York to become the next chairman of this bank, in compliance with Charles Lester’s wishes, it would not be easy for myself or for my family. However, as it was Charles Lester’s desire that I should do just that – and he was not a man to make such a proposition lightly – I am bound to take his wishes seriously. I would also like to add that his son, Matthew Lester, was my closest friend for over fifteen years, and I consider it a tragedy that it is me, and not him, who is addressing you today as your prospective chairman.’

Some of the directors nodded their approval.

‘Gentlemen, if I were fortunate enough to secure your support today, I would be willing to sacrifice everything I have in Boston in order to serve you. I hope it is unnecessary for me to give you a detailed account of my banking experience. I shall assume that you will have taken the trouble to find out why Charles Lester thought I was the right man to succeed him. My own chairman, Tony Simmons, whom many of you know, has asked me to stay on at Kane and Cabot, and to ignore Mr Lester’s wishes.

‘I had intended to inform Mr Parfitt yesterday of my decision – had he taken the trouble to call me. I had the pleasure of dining with Mr and Mrs Parfitt last week at their home, and on that occasion Mr Parfitt informed me that he had no interest in becoming the next chairman of this bank. My only rival, in his opinion, was Mr Leach, your other vice chairman. I have since consulted Mr Leach, and he informs me that I have always had his support for the chair. I assumed, therefore, that both vice chairmen were backing me. But after reading this morning’s Wall Street Journal, not that I have relied upon its predictions since I was eight years old’ – a little laughter – ‘I felt I should attend today’s meeting to assure myself that I had not lost the support of both vice chairmen, and that the Journal’s account was inaccurate. Mr Leach called this board meeting, and I must now ask him if he still backs me to succeed Charles Lester as the bank’s next chairman.’

William looked across at Leach, whose head was bowed. The wait for his verdict seemed interminable, although it was only a few seconds. A thumbs down from him would mean the Parfittlians would slaughter the Christian.

Leach raised his head slowly and said, ‘Gentlemen, I support Mr Kane unreservedly.’

William looked directly at Peter Parfitt for the first time that day. He was sweating profusely, and when he spoke he did not raise his eyes from the yellow pad in front of him.

‘Some members of the board,’ he began, ‘felt I should throw my hat into the ring—’

‘And all this has happened since we spoke last week, when you told me you would be happy to go along with Charles Lester’s wishes?’ interrupted William, allowing a small note of surprise to enter his voice.

Parfitt raised his head a little. ‘The situation is not quite that simple, Mr Kane.’

‘Oh, yes it is, Mr Parfitt. Have you changed your mind since I dined in your home, or do you still support me?’

‘I’ve been assured that it is the wish of several directors that I should stand against you.’

‘Despite your telling me only a week ago you had no interest in being chairman?’

‘I would like to be able to state my own position,’ said Parfitt, ‘before you assume too much. This is not your boardroom yet, Mr Kane.’

‘Please do so, Mr Parfitt.’

So far the meeting had gone exactly as William had planned. His own speech had been carefully prepared, and Parfitt now laboured under the disadvantage of having lost the initiative, to say nothing of having been publicly denounced as duplicitous at best.

‘Gentlemen,’ he began, as if searching for words. ‘Well . . .’

All eyes were now on Parfitt, giving William the chance to relax a little and study the faces of the other directors.

‘Several members of the board approached me privately after I had dinner with Mr Kane,’ said Parfitt, ‘and I felt that it was no more than my duty to respect their wishes and offer myself for election. I have never at any time wanted to oppose the wishes of Mr Lester, whom I greatly admired and respected. Naturally, I would have informed Mr Kane of my intention before Thursday’s scheduled board meeting, but I confess to having been taken somewhat by surprise by today’s events.’

He drew a deep breath. ‘I have served Lester’s for twenty-two years, six of them as your vice chairman. I feel, therefore, that I have the right to be considered for the chair. I would be delighted if Mr Kane were to join the board as deputy chairman, but I now find myself unable to back his appointment as chairman. I hope my fellow directors will support a man who has worked for this bank for over twenty years, rather than an unknown outsider chosen on the whim of a man distraught over the death of his only son. Thank you, gentlemen.’

Given the circumstances, William was rather impressed by the speech, but Parfitt did not have the benefit of Mr Cohen’s advice on the power of the last word in a close contest. William rose again.

‘Gentlemen, Mr Parfitt has pointed out that I am personally unknown to you. I therefore want none of you to be in any doubt about the type of man I am. As I have said, I am the grandson and the son of bankers. I’ve been a banker all my life, and it would be less than honest of me to pretend I would not be honoured to serve as the next chairman of Lester’s. If, on the other hand, after all you have heard today, you decide to back Mr Parfitt, so be it. I will return to Boston and continue to serve my own bank quite happily. I will, moreover, announce publicly that I have no interest in being chairman of Lester’s, so nobody will be able to accuse you of having failed in your duty to carry out the provisions of Charles Lester’s will. I do not wish to become chairman by default, but by acclamation.

‘There are, however, no conditions under which I would be willing to serve on your board under Mr Parfitt. I stand before you, gentlemen, at the grave disadvantage of being, in Mr Parfitt’s words, “an unknown outsider”. I have, however, the advantage of being supported by a man who cannot be present today; a man whom all of you respected and admired, a man not known for yielding to whims or making hasty decisions. I therefore suggest that the board waste no more time in deciding whom they wish to serve as the next chairman of Lester’s. If any of you has any doubts about my ability to run this bank, then vote for Mr Parfitt. I shall not vote myself, gentlemen, and I assume Mr Parfitt will not do so either.’

‘You cannot vote,’ said Parfitt sharply. ‘You are not a member of this board. I am, and I shall exercise my privilege and vote.’

‘So be it, Mr Parfitt. No one will ever be able to say you did not take every possible opportunity to gain an advantage.’

William waited for his words to sink in. A director who was unknown to William looked as if he was about to speak, so he quickly continued, ‘I will ask Mr Rodgers, as company secretary, to carry out the electoral procedure. When you have cast your votes, gentlemen, perhaps you could pass the ballot papers back to him.’

Alfred Rodgers’ monocle had been popping in and out periodically throughout the meeting. Nervously, he passed voting slips to his fellow directors. When each had written down the name of the candidate he supported, the slips were returned to him.

‘Perhaps it might be prudent, given the circumstances, Mr Rodgers, if the votes were counted aloud, thus making sure no inadvertent error is made that might lead to the necessity of a second ballot.’

‘Certainly, Mr Kane.’

‘Does that meet with your approval, Mr Parfitt?’

Parfitt nodded his agreement without looking up.

‘Thank you. Perhaps you would be kind enough to read the votes out, Mr Rodgers.’

The company secretary opened the first voting slip.

‘Parfitt.’

And then the second.

‘Parfitt.’

The decision was now out of William’s hands. The fate of the prize he had told Charles Lester at the age of twelve would be his, would be decided in the next few seconds.

‘Kane. Parfitt. Kane.’

Three votes to two against him. Was he going to meet the same fate as he had in his contest with Tony Simmons?

‘Kane. Kane. Parfitt.’

Four votes each. Parfitt was still sweating profusely, and he didn’t exactly feel relaxed himself.

‘Parfitt.’

No expression crossed William’s face. Parfitt allowed himself a smile. Five votes to four.

‘Kane. Kane. Kane.’

Parfitt’s smile disappeared.

Just two more, two more, pleaded William, almost out loud.

‘Parfitt. Parfitt.’

Rodgers took a long time opening a voting slip which someone had folded and refolded.

‘Kane.’

Eight votes to seven in William’s favour.

The last piece of paper was now being opened. William watched Alfred Rodgers’s lips. The company secretary looked up; for that one moment he was the most important person in the room.

‘Kane.’

Parfitt’s head sank into his hands.

‘Gentlemen,’ declared the company secretary, ‘the tally is nine votes for Mr Kane, seven votes for Mr Parfitt. I therefore declare Mr William Kane to be the duly elected chairman of Lester’s Bank.’

A silence fell over the room as every head except Parfitt’s turned towards William and waited for the new chairman’s first words.

William exhaled a great rush of air, and stood once again, this time to face his board.

‘Thank you, gentlemen, for the confidence you have placed in me. It was Charles Lester’s desire that I should be your next chairman, and I am delighted you have confirmed his wishes with your vote. I promise that I will serve this bank to the best of my ability, but I will be unable to do so without the wholehearted support of the board. If Mr Parfitt would be kind enough . . .’

Parfitt looked up hopefully.

‘. . . to join me in the chairman’s office in a few minutes’ time, I would be much obliged. After I have seen Mr Parfitt, I would then like to see Mr Leach. I hope, gentlemen, that during the next few days I will have the opportunity of meeting each of you individually. The next board meeting will be the scheduled monthly one. This meeting is now adjourned.’

The directors began to rise, talking among themselves. William walked quickly into the corridor, avoiding Peter Parfitt’s stare. Ted Leach caught up with him and guided him to the chairman’s office.

‘That was some risk you took,’ said Leach, ‘and you only just pulled it off. What would you have done if you’d lost the vote?’

‘Driven back to Boston and got on with my job,’ said William, trying to sound unperturbed.

Leach opened the door to the chairman’s office. The room was almost exactly as William remembered it; perhaps it had seemed a little larger when, as a prep school boy, he had told Charles Lester that one day he would run his bank. He glanced up at the portrait behind the desk and winked at the late chairman, then sat in the big red leather chair and put his elbows on the mahogany desk. He removed a small leather-bound book from his jacket pocket, placed it on the desk in front of him and waited. A moment later there was a knock on the door. An old man entered, leaning heavily on a black stick with a silver handle. Ted Leach left them alone.

‘My name is Rupert Cork-Smith,’ the man said, with a hint of an English accent.

William rose to greet him. He was the oldest member of the board. His long grey sideburns and heavy gold watch came from a past era, but his reputation for probity was legendary in banking circles. No man needed to sign a contract with Rupert Cork-Smith: his word had always been his bond. He looked William firmly in the eye.

‘I voted against you, sir, and naturally you can expect my resignation to be on your desk within the hour.’

‘Will you have a seat, sir?’ William said gently.

‘Thank you, sir.’

‘I think you knew my father and grandfather.’

‘I had that privilege. Your grandfather and I were at Harvard together, and I remember your father’s untimely death with considerable sadness.’

‘And Charles Lester?’ said William.

‘Was my closest friend. The provision in his will has preyed upon my conscience. It was no secret that my first choice as chairman would not have been Peter Parfitt. I would have supported Ted Leach for the job, but I have never abstained from anything in my life, so I felt I had to support whichever candidate stood against you, as I found myself unable to vote for a man I had never met.’

‘I’m grateful for your honesty, Mr Cork-Smith, but now I have a bank to run. I need you at this moment far more than you need me, so I beg you not to resign.’

The old man looked deeply into William’s eyes. ‘I’m not sure if it would work, young man. I can’t change my attitudes overnight,’ said Cork-Smith, both hands resting on his cane.

‘Give me six months, sir, and if you still feel the same way, I won’t put up a fight.’

There was a long silence before Cork-Smith spoke again: ‘Charles Lester was right: you are the son of Richard Kane.’

‘Will you continue to serve this bank, sir?’

‘I will, young man. There’s no fool like an old fool, don’t you know.’

Rupert Cork-Smith rose slowly with the aid of his stick. William jumped up to help him, but was waved away.

‘Good luck, my boy. You can rely on my total support.’

‘Thank you, sir.’

When he opened the door, William saw Peter Parfitt waiting in the corridor. As Cork-Smith left, the two men did not speak.

Parfitt blustered in. ‘Well, I tried, and I lost. A man can’t do more,’ he said, laughing. ‘No hard feelings, Bill?’ He extended his hand.

‘There are no hard feelings, Mr Parfitt,’ said William, not offering him a seat. ‘As you rightly say, you tried, and you lost. You will now resign as a director of this bank.’

‘I’ll do what?’ said Parfitt incredulously.

‘Resign,’ said William.

‘That’s a bit rough, isn’t it, Bill? My action wasn’t personal. I simply felt—’

‘I don’t want you in my bank, Mr Parfitt. You’ll leave tonight and never set foot on the premises again.’

‘And if I say I won’t go? I own a good many shares in the bank and I still have a lot of support on the board. What’s more, I could take you to court.’

‘I would recommend that you read the bank’s bylaws, Mr Parfitt.’ William picked up the small leather-bound book that was lying on the desk and turned over a few pages. Having found a paragraph he had marked that morning, he read aloud. ‘“The chairman has the right to remove any office holder in whom he has lost confidence.” I have lost confidence in you, Mr Parfitt, and you will therefore resign. You will receive two years’ pay, and any other benefits to which you are entitled. If, on the other hand, you force me to remove you, you will leave the bank with nothing other than your stock and your reputation, whatever that is worth. The choice is yours.’

‘Won’t you give me a second chance?’

‘I gave you a chance last week when you invited me to dinner, and you lied and dissembled. Those are not traits I am looking for in my deputy chairman. Will it be resignation, or do I have to throw you out, Mr Parfitt?’

‘Damn you, Kane. I’ll resign.’

‘Good. Then you’ll sit down and write the letter now.’

‘No. I’ll let you have it in the morning, in my own good time.’

‘Now – or I’ll fire you,’ said William.

Parfitt hesitated, then sank heavily into a chair. William handed him a sheet of the bank’s headed paper and proffered a pen. Parfitt took out his own pen and started writing. When the letter was finished, William picked it up and read it through carefully.

‘Good day, Mr Parfitt.’

Parfitt left without another word. William allowed himself a smile as Ted Leach entered the room.

‘You asked to see me, Mr Chairman?’

‘Yes,’ said William. ‘I want to appoint you as the bank’s new deputy chairman. Mr Parfitt felt he had to resign.’

‘Oh, I’m surprised to hear that. I would have thought . . .’

William passed him the letter. Leach read it and then looked back at William.

‘I shall be delighted to be deputy chairman. Thank you for your confidence in me.’

‘Good. I’d be obliged if you would arrange for me to meet every director during the next few days. I’ll be at my desk at eight o’clock tomorrow morning.’

‘Yes, Mr Chairman.’

‘Perhaps you will also be kind enough to give Mr Parfitt’s letter of resignation to the company secretary?’

‘As you wish, Mr Chairman.’

‘My name is William – that was another mistake Mr Parfitt made.’

Leach smiled tentatively. ‘I’ll see you tomorrow morning’ – he hesitated – ‘William.’

After he’d left, William sat in Charles Lester’s chair and whirled himself around in an uncharacteristic burst of sheer glee until he was dizzy. He then looked out of the window onto Wall Street, elated by the bustling crowds and the sight of the leading banks and brokerage houses of America. This was where he’d wanted to be all his life.

‘And who, pray, are you?’ demanded a female voice from behind him.

He swivelled around to find a primly dressed middle-aged woman looking at him irately.

‘I might ask you the same question,’ said William.

‘I am the chairman’s secretary,’ the woman said stiffly.

‘And I,’ said William, ‘am the chairman.’

William moved to New York the following Monday, but it was some weeks before Kate and the family were able to join him. First he had to find a house suitable for the new chairman of Lester’s Bank, and more importantly a school that could guarantee Richard a place first at St Paul’s, and later at Harvard.

For the next three months, as William tried to extricate himself from Boston as well as carrying out his job in New York, he wished that every day had forty-eight hours. He found the umbilical cord was harder to sever than he’d anticipated. Tony Simmons was fully supportive, and William began to appreciate why Alan Lloyd had backed him to be chairman of Kane and Cabot. For the first time he was even willing to admit that Alan might have been right.

Kate’s life in New York was soon fully occupied. Virginia could almost toddle across a room and find her way into William’s study before Kate could catch up with her, and all Richard wanted was a new Windbreaker so he would be like every other boy in New York. As the wife of the chairman of a New York bank Kate was expected to give cocktail parties and private dinners regularly, subtly making sure that directors and major clients always had a chance to have a private word with William, so they could seek his advice or voice their opinions. She handled these occasions with great charm and diplomacy, and William was eternally grateful to the liquidation department of Kane and Cabot for supplying him with his greatest asset.

When Kate informed him that she was going to have another baby, all he could ask was, ‘When did I find the time?’ Virginia was thrilled by the news, not fully understanding why Mummy was getting so fat, and Richard refused to discuss it.

When William faced his first AGM a month later, his position as chairman was unanimously confirmed. William tried not to smile when Mr Cohen reminded him that several of the shareholders wouldn’t inherit a dime if they failed to vote for him. William was surprised to see Peter Parfitt seated in the back row, arms folded, and even more surprised to see Susan Lester seated next to him. When it came to the vote their arms remained folded.

Kate gave birth to their third child at the end of William’s first year as chairman of Lester’s, a second girl, whom they named Lucy. William taught Virginia how to rock Lucy’s cradle; while Richard, now ready to enter the first grade at the Buckley School, used the new arrival as the opportunity to talk his father into buying him a new baseball bat. Lucy, unable to make any articulate demands, nevertheless became the third woman who could twist William around her little finger.

In William’s first year as chairman of Lester’s the bank’s profits were slightly up, and he assured the shareholders who attended his second AGM that he could see no reason why there shouldn’t be an even greater improvement next year.