Kane & Abel (1979) (55 page)

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.’