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‘Good ideas,’ Cornelius said. ‘You know there’s nothing I like to buy better than a badly managed paper. I’ve done this before.’

‘You’ll need to convince the banks and the investors,’ Dower said. Then he smiled. ‘But I’m sure you can manage that.’

Cornelius grinned. Investors loved him. So did bankers. No matter how high the targets he set himself, often written down in black and white in bond documentation and loan agreements, he met them. Always. It was true that at the price they were planning to pay, The Times would be a challenge. But it was one of the few truly classy newspaper properties in the world: there was the New York Times, of course, the Washington Post, the Los Angeles Times perhaps, Le Monde, Le Figaro, not many more. At seventy-two, Cornelius was nearing his last deal. Zyl News already owned over eighty newspapers in America, Britain and Australia, the two largest being the Philadelphia Intelligencer, which he had bought in the early eighties, and the Herald, but it lacked a flagship title. If he could snatch The Times from Evelyn Gill then Zyl News would be one of the two or three leading players in the world. He glanced at the petulant face of his son and heir, who was glaring belligerently at the investment bankers, and the warm glow of anticipation cooled. Then what would happen? That was another problem he would have to deal with.

‘So,’ he said. ‘How long will it take to put the bid together?’

‘The bank loan shouldn’t be a problem, the banks will be falling over themselves to lend to you. Obviously it will take several weeks to put the bond issue together, but Bloomfield Weiss can underwrite a bridge loan to provide you with the funds until then. Under the takeover code you will need a letter from us saying we are committed to the funding.’ Dower paused. ‘We should be able to get all that together in seven days if we push it.’

‘Excellent.’

‘Subject to internal credit approval,’ Dower added.

‘What?’ Cornelius glared at Dower.

‘I’m sure you understand that a bridge loan of this size is a big risk for Bloomfield Weiss; we need to have it signed off at the highest level.’

‘Harrison Brothers have been knocking at my door for the last couple of years desperate to deal with me. They say they can sign letters like that on the spot.’

‘And that’s exactly what I tell my competitors’ clients,’ Benton said with a grin. ‘Don’t worry, the approvals are only a formality. You’ll have your letter in a week.’

Cornelius glanced at Benton. ‘All right. But let me make one thing clear. I demand total commitment from my bankers. Once we’re in a deal, we’re in it together. No dithering, no waiting for conditions to improve, no delays while you bring one of your other clients to market. I want The Times, and what I want, I get. I will need one hundred per cent effort from you, is that understood?’ Cornelius switched his stare back to Dower as he said this. Surprised and intimidated, the banker dithered.

‘Of course we understand that, Cornelius,’ Benton said with a smile. ‘When has Bloomfield Weiss given you anything less?’

‘Hmm,’ Cornelius said. ‘OK. Let’s do it. If you need any more detailed information, ask Edwin. He’s had our accountants prepare some initial due diligence for you. Don’t go to anyone else in Zyl News. I want the surprise to be total.’

Cornelius grinned as he thought of Evelyn Gill’s reaction to his bid being topped. Cornelius had never liked the man. He posed as a hard-nosed Yorkshire businessman impatient with the egos and vanities of his editors. But Cornelius knew his rival. Evelyn Gill wanted The Times more than anything else in the world. And he wasn’t going to get it.

Edwin saw the investment bankers out of the house, and came back upstairs to Cornelius’s study.

Cornelius rubbed his hands. ‘This is going to work. I can feel this is going to work.’

‘I hope so,’ said Edwin. ‘But I don’t see how we can make the numbers stack up.’

‘Of course we can make them stack up,’ Cornelius said impatiently. ‘As long as we get the business right, the numbers will come out right as well. And there is so much we could do with The Times.

‘Pa?’

‘Yes?’

‘You know we spoke yesterday about Todd coming back into the business?’

‘Yes.’

‘I’m not sure he’ll do it. And I’m not sure it’s such a good idea if he does.’

Cornelius glared at his eldest son. ‘He’ll do it,’ he said. ‘And I’m going to tell him that tonight.’ He sat down at his desk, placed his reading glasses on his nose and picked up a report. ‘Haven’t you got some numbers to crunch?’

Edwin was dismissed.

‘Ah, there you are, Todd, it’s so good to see you!’ Cornelius strode into his expensively furnished drawing room and clapped his son on the shoulder. ‘And you, Kim.’ He turned to his daughter-in-law and embraced her. ‘I’m sorry to leave you alone down here, but Edwin and I were working on something upstairs. Edwin has to go on to a dinner shortly, but he wanted to stop and say hello.’

Edwin was hovering behind his father at the doorway. He gave his half-brother a thin smile.

‘I see Nimrod found you both a drink,’ Cornelius went on. ‘Is that the Meerlust?’ Cornelius moved over to the sideboard and picked up the wine bottle to check the label. ‘Not bad, is it, Todd?’

‘It’s very good,’ said Todd.

‘It’s absolutely delicious,’ added Kim with more enthusiasm. Despite the damp weather, she was wearing a blue summer dress in honour of her father-in-law and had even applied some lipstick and eye shadow, which had the effect of making her face seem even paler under her dark curls.

‘If you don’t mind, I’ll have something stronger,’ Cornelius said. He poured himself a brandy and Coke and Edwin a tomato juice with a squirt of Worcester sauce. ‘Sit, please.’ They all found armchairs and sofas to perch on. Despite the quality of the furniture and the paintings, the room had a cosy feel to it. Outside, dusk was falling over Regent’s Park and Nimrod had drawn the heavy gold drapes. ‘So you’ve just come from your parents, Kim? I hope they are well?’

‘Oh, they’re both in wonderful form, thanks,’ Kim replied. ‘Liverpool are through to the FA Cup final, which makes Dad very happy, and there seems to have been a complete breakdown in marital fidelity up and down our road, which has given my mother countless hours of amusement.’

‘I must come and watch a game with your father sometime,’ Cornelius said.

‘He’d love that,’ said Kim. ‘And how’s Jessica?’

Jessica Montgomery was Cornelius’s third wife, the daughter of a prominent Philadelphia family. They had been married twelve years. ‘Oh, she’s excited. She’s just bought a new horse and she’s at the farm schooling him now. I would have brought her with me to London, but this is very much a working trip, isn’t it, Edwin?’

Edwin grunted. They all sipped their drinks.

‘We drove down here via Norfolk,’ Kim said. ‘We dropped in on an old friend of mine who has bought an airfield up there.’

‘Oh, yes? Did he take you up in anything?’

‘It was too cloudy,’ Todd said. ‘But he promised to give me a ride in an old Yak provided the weather clears up before we go back to the States.’