第 69 页

'We can't be sure until he does it, but with an eight per cent holding in the bank he has powers every bit as great as yours,' said the new company secretary - not William's choice, he talked too much. 'And all we know is that neither of you seems able to give up this personal feud.

Although you have offered ten million to protect our financial position, if Rosnovski were continually to hold up policy decisions, call proxy meetings, arrange takeover bids with no interest in the goodwill of the bank, it would undoubtedly cause panic. The bank and its subsidiary companies, to whom we have a duty as directors, would at best, be highly embarrassed and at worst, might eventually collapse!

'No, no,' said William. 'With my personal backing we could meet him head on.'

'The decision we have to make today,' continued the company secretary, 'is whether there are any circumstances in which this. board wants to meet Mr. Rosnovski head on. Perhaps we are bound to be the losers in the long run.'

'Not if I cover the cost from my private trust,' said William.

'That you could do,' said Jake Thomas, 'but it's not just money we're discussing; much bigger problems arise for the bank. Now that Rosnovski can invoke Article Seven, he can play with us when and as he pleases. The bank could be spending its entire time doing nothing but trying to anticipate Abel Rosnovski's every move.'

Jake Thomas waited for the effect of what he had said to sink in. William remained silent. Then Thomas looked at William and continued: 'Now I must ask you a very serious personal question, Mr. Chairman, which worries every one of us around this table, and I hope you'll be nothing less than frank with us when answering it, however unpleasant that may be for you.'

William looked up, wondering what the question could be. What had they been discussing behind his back? Who the hell did Jake Thomas think he was? William felt he was losing the initiative.

'I will answer anything that the board requires,' said William. 'I have nothing and no one to fear,' he said, looking pointedly at Jake Thomas.

'Thank you,' said Jake Thomas. 'Mr. Chairman, were you in any way involved with sending a file to the justice Department in Washington which caused Abel Rosnovski to be arrested and charged with fraud when at the same time you knew he was a major shareholder of the bank's?'

'Did he tell you that?' demanded William 'Yes, he claims you were the sole reason for his arrest!

William stayed silent for a few moments, considering his reply, while he looked down at his notes. They didn't help. He had not thought that question would arise but he had never lied to the board in aver twenty-three years. He couldn't start now.

'Yes, I did,' he said, breaking the silence. 'The information came into my hands, and I considered that it was nothing less than my duty to pass it on to the justice Department.'

'How did the information come into your hands?'

William did not reply.

'I think we all know the answer to that question, Mr. Chairman,' said Jake Thomas. 'Moreover, you let the authorities know without briefing the board of your action and by so doing you put all of us in jeopardy. Our reputations, our careers, everything this bank stands for over a personal vendetta.'

'But Rosnovski was trying to ruin me,' said William, aware he was now shouting.

'So in order to ruin him you risked the bank's stability and reputation.'

'It is my bank,' said William.

'It is not,' said Jake Thomas. 'You own eight per cent Of the stock, as does Mr. Rosnovski, and at the moment you are president and chairman of Lester's, but the bank is not yours to use for your own personal whim without consulting the other directors!

'Then I will have to ask the board for a vote of confidence,' said William. 'I'll ask you to support me against Abel Rosnovski.'

'That is not what a vote of confidence would be about,' said the company secretary. 'The vote would be about whether you are the right man to run this bank in the present circumstances. Can't you see that, Mr. Chairman?'

'So be it,' said William, turning his eyes away. 'This board must decide whether it wishes to end my career in disgrace now, after nearly a quarter of a century's service, or to yield to the threats of a convicted criminal!

Jake Thomas nodded to the company secretary and voting slips were passed around to every board member. It looked to William as if everything had been decided before the meeting. He glanced around the crowded table at the twenty-nine men. Many of them he had chosen himself, but some of them he didn't know at all well. He had once heard that a small group of young directors openly supported the Democratic Party and John Kennedy. Some of them were looking at him; some were not. Surely they'd back him; they wouldn't let Rosnovski beat him. Not now. Please let me finish my term as chairman, he said to himself, then I'll go quietly and without any fuss - but not this way. He watched the members of the board as they passed their voting slips back to the secretary. He was opening them slowly. The room was silent and all eyes were turned towards the secxetary as he began opening the last few slips, noting down each aye and nay meticulously on a piece of paper placed in front of him that revealed two columns. William could see that one list of names was considerably longer than the other, but his failing eyesight did not permit him to decipher which was which. He could not accept that the day could have come when there would be a vote in his own board room between himself and Abel Rosnovski.

The secretary was saying something. William couldn't believe what he heard. By seventeen votes to twelve he had lost the confidence of the board. He managed to stand up. Abel Rosnovski had beaten him in the final battle. No one spoke as William left the board room. He returned to the Chairman's office and picked up his coat, stopping only to look at the portrait of Charles Lester for the last time, and then walked slowly down the long corridor and out of the front entrance.

The doorman said, 'Nice to have you back again, Mr. Chairman. See you tomorrow, sir.'

William realised he would never see him again. He turned around and shook hands with the man who had directed him to the board room twenty-three years before.

The rather surprised doon-nan said, 'Goodnight, sir,' as he watched William climb into the back of his car for the last time.

His chauffeur took him home and when he reached East Sixty-eighth Street, William collapsed on his front door step. The chauffeur and Kate helped him into the house~ Kate could see he was crying, and she put her arms round him.

'What is it, William? What's happened?'

'I've been thrown out of my own bank,' he wept. 'My own board no longer have confidence in me- When it mattered, they supported Abel Rosnovski.'

Kate managed to get him up to bed and sat with him through the night. He never spoke. Nor did he sleep.

The announcement in the Wall Street journal the following Monday morning said simply: 'William Lowell Kane, the president and chairman of Lester's Bank resigned after yesterday's board meeting!

No mention of illness or any explanation was given for his sudden departure, and there was no suggestion that his son would take his place on the board. William knew that rumour would sweep through Wall Street and that the worst would be assumed. He sat in bed alone, caring no longer for this world.

Abel read the announcement of William Kanes resignation in the Wall Street journal the same day. He picked up the phone, dialled Lester's Bank and asked to speak to the new chairman. A few seconds later Jake Thomas came on the line. 'Good morning, Mr. Rosnovski.'

'Good morning, Mr. Thomas. I'm just phoning to confirm that I shall release all my Interstate Airways shares to the bank at the market price this morning and my eight per cent holding in Lester's to you personally for two million dollars!

'Thank you, Mr. Rosnovski, that's most generous of you.'

'No need to thank me, Mr. Chairman, it's no more than we agreed on when you sold me your two per cent of Lester's,' said Abel Rosnovski.

Book Seven

40

Abel was surprised to find how little satisfaction his final triumph had given him.

George tried to persuade him that he should go to Warsaw to look over sites for the new Baron but Abel didn't want to. As he grew older he became fearful of dying abroad and never seeing Florentyna again, and for months Abel showed no interest in the group's activities. When John F. Kennedy was assassinated on 22 November 1963, Abel became even more depressed and feared for America. Eventually George did convince him that a trip abroad could do no harm, and that things would perhaps seem a little easier for him when lie returned.

Abel travelled to Warsaw where he obtained a highly confidential agreement to build the first Baron in the communist world. His command of the language impressed Warsawians, and he was proud to beat Holiday Inns and Intercontinental behind the Iron Curtain. He couldn't help thinking ... and it didn't help when Lyndon Johnson appointed John (3 ronowski to be the first Polish-American ambassador to Warsaw. But now nothing seemed to give any satisfaction. He had defeated Kane and lost his own daughter, and he wondered if the man felt the same way about his son. After Warsaw, he roamed the world, staying in his hotels, watching the construction of new ones. He opened the first Baron in Cape Town, South Africa, and flew back to Germany to open one in Dilsseldorf.

Abel then spent six months in his favourite Baron in Paris, roaming the streets by day, and attending the opera at night, hoping it might revive happy memories of Florentyna.

He eventually left Paris and returned to America, after his long exile.

As he descended the metal steps of an Air France 707 at Kennedy International Airport, his back hunched and his bald head covered with a black hat, nobody recognised him. George was there to greet him, loyal, honest George, looking quite a bit older. On the ride to the New York Baron, George, as always, brought him up to date on group news. The profits, it seemed, were even higher as his keen young executives thrust forward in every major country in the world. Seventy-two hotels run by twenty-two thousand staff. Abel didn't seem to be listening. He only wanted news of Florentyna.

'She's well,' said George, 'and coming to New York early next year.'

'Why?' said Abel, suddenly excited.

'She's opening one of her shops on Fifth Avenue!

'Fifth Avenue?'

'The eleventh Florentyna,' said George, 'Have you seen her?'

'Yes,' he admitted.

'Is she well, is she happy?'

'Both of them are very well and happy, and so successful. Abel, you should be very proud of them. Your grandson is quite a boy, and your granddaughter's beautiful. The image of Florentyna when she was that age.'

'Will she see me?' said Abel.

'Will you see her husband?'

'No, George. I can never meet that boy, not while his father is still alive.'

'What if you die first?'

'You mustn't believe everything you read in the Bible!

Abel and George drove in silence back to the hotel, and Abel dined alone in his room that night.

For the next six months, he never left the penthouse.

When Florentyna Kane opened her new boutique on Fifth Avenue in March 1967, everyone in New York seemed to be there, except William Kane and Abel Rosnovski.

Kate and Lucy had left William in bed muttering to himself while they went off to the opening of 'Florentyna's'.

George left Abel alone in his suite so that he could attend the celebrations. He had tried to talk Abel into going along with him. Abel grunted that his daughter had opened ten shops without him, and one more wouldn't make any difference. George told him he was a stubborn old fool and left for Fifth Avenue on his own. When he arrived at the shop, a magnificent modern boutique with thick carpets and the latest Swedish furniture - it reminded him of the way Abel used to do things - he found Florentyna, wearing a long blue gown with the now famous F on the high collar. She gave George a glass of champagne and introduced him to Kate and Lucy Kane who were chatting with Zaphia. Kate and Lucy were clearly happy and they surprised George by enquiring after Abel Rosnovski.

'I told him he was a stubborn old fool to miss such a good party. Is Mr. Kane here?' he asked.

George was delighted by Kate Kane's happy reply.

[Note from proofer: 41?]

William was still muttering angrily at the New York Times, something about Johnson's pulling his punches in Vietnam, when he folded the newspaper and got himself out of bed. He started to dress slowly, staring at himself in the mirror when he had finished. He loAed like a banker. He scowled. How else should he look? He put on a heavy black overcoat and his old Homburg hat, picked up his black walking stick with the silver handle, the one Rupert Cork-Smith had left him, and somehow got himself out on to the street. The first time he had been out on his own, he thought, for the best part of three years, since that last serious heart attack. The maid was surprised to see him leaving the house unaccompanied.

It was an unusually warm spring evening, but William felt the cold after being in the house so long. It took him a considerable time to reach Fifth Avenue and Fifty-sixth Street, and when he eventually did arrive, the crowd was so large outside Florentyna's that he felt he didn't have the strength to fight his way through it. He stood at the kerb, watching.

The people enjoying themselves. Young people, happy and excited, thrusting their way into Florentyna's beautiful shop. Some of the girls were wearing the new mini skirts from London. What next? thought William, and then he saw his son talking to Kate. He had grown into such a fine looking man - tall, confident, and relaxed, he had an air of authority about him that reminded William of his own father. But in the bustle and continual movement, he couldn't quite work out which one was Florentyna.

He stood there for nearly an hour enjoying the comings and goings, regretting the stubborn years he had thrown away.

The wind was beginning to nace down Fifth Avenue. He'd forgotten how cold that March wind could be. He turned his collar up. He must get home, because they were all coming to dinner that night, and he was going to meet Florentyna and the grandchildren for the first time. His grandson and little Annabel and their father, his beloved son. He had told Kate what a fool he'd been and begged her forgiveness. All he remembered her saying was 'I'll always love you.' Florentyna had written to him. Such a generous letter. She had been so understanding and kind about the past.