The Ascendant

Chapter Thirty

We reached Holborn in good time before arriving at Chambers Benjamin and Bartlett’s offices on Grays Inn Road. The decor was Victorian, wondrous in its detail and grand in its scale. The building made our modern office block in Camden seem humble and tacky by comparison.

We were led to the escalator by a young Vietnamese woman, then on through the wide corridors to Nigel Smith’s office. It turned out Vietnamese woman was Smith’s personal assistant, and she made the necessary introductions before disappearing to brew each of a drink.

As instructed, I sat and observed as Mike and Smith exchanged yarns of recent escapades both in and out of work. Mike was holding his own impressively well, although Smith was every bit as charming and arrogant as Mike had forewarned; and it was he who dictated the pace and direction of the conversation.

Smith was approaching middle age, slim and tall, with a luxuriant head of dark wavy hair, which was swept back flamboyantly to offset his tanned, leathery skin. I pictured him in a gentleman’s club, discussing commerce, or cricket or a forthcoming social function, and wondered how we had all come to share the same office, even on such a temporary basis.

I was relieved to note that Smith was ignoring me completely. This enabled me to study Mike, and listen to the tone and content of what was being said while Smith, thankfully refrained from casual recourse to Latin.

‘That is an excellent point Nigel, and I am very pleased that you raised it.’

‘Are you really Michael?’

‘Yes indeed, and I should like to explain our current position on the matter Nigel, if I may.’

‘Pray tell Michael, pray tell.’

‘Gary Hobbs had a meeting with Roger Clark, our divisional director, only last week, and the matter was discussed at some length. We will be reviewing the possibility of reducing our panel of approved contractors over the forthcoming months before arriving at a decision. We are currently in the process of notifying each contractor of the position; I actually have a meeting this afternoon with our solicitors concerning this very matter. The reason we are considering the policy change is most notably to seek greater efficiency, improved customer contact and better value for money, which is, of course, what we are all seeking, as you know all too well Nigel.’

‘Well, of course.’

‘We certainly do not wish to change the status quo for sake of change; we feel that we have a very strong panel of contractors…’

‘Now that is contestable.’

‘We are always striving to provide our clients with an improved service, Nigel, and I think our record over the years bares that assertion out. As I was saying, we do have a very strong panel of contractors, but we feel we can improve the service even further. The question is whether greater investment in a reduced number of contractors, guaranteeing them a larger percentage of our business and enabling them to invest and expand at a sensible rate, will result in an improvement in standards across the board. That is what we are currently investigating.’

Smith seemed to have a soft spot for Mike, whose energy and enthusiasm was irrefutable. Even when he was goading Mike, Smith seemed to view it as some sort of joust, and I could see no malice in any of his words, though as Mike said he could be unpredictable, clever and crafty and Mike continued to cover his tracks and kiss arse in equal measure.

The meeting went on, with Mike yapping like a new pet puppy while Smith continued his masterly domination of proceedings, throwing Mike the odd morsel and offering the occasional word of encouragement or admonishment. Meanwhile, I merely continued to sink into the oak panelled background, trying to take it in and make sense of it all.

Smith had a pressing luncheon engagement and Mike had an appointment of his own, so hands were shaken and the meeting was drawn to a close. Smith even acknowledged my presence for the first time, since my having walked into his office over two hours ago.

‘Pleasure meeting you Ben,’ said Smith, apparently in all seriousness. ‘No doubt we shall be speaking at length in the weeks and months to come. That north London patch is pretty vast, my good fellow. You shall have to keep myself abreast of your progress, as I am sure Gary will.’

‘Of course, Nigel, I certainly shall. I must say I am indeed looking forward to it immensely.’

‘Well, I’m glad to here that, Ben. Vietnamese will see you both out. Mind how you go.’

And so my education continued. Despite the run-around he was given by the fearsome Smith, shadowing Mike was turning into a work-in-motion study. He seemed to have everything under control whatever the circumstances.

We made the meeting with his contractor in Brixton that afternoon, and cruised around a few others later in the week. As Mike had said during his meeting with Smith, the long term plan was to reduce the number of contractors on the panel, allowing the most efficient ones to grow, taking a larger proportion of the business as they did so. No hints were given as to who was in the running and who was not - in theory they were all still in it - but each of them was acutely aware of portraying a positive image, saying the right things and generally doing whatever they needed to do to remain in favour.

‘It’ll be a worthwhile project whatever happens,’ said Mike. ‘Even if we don’t proceed with the plan, every single one of these contractors will be raising their game, improving their services and submitting lower invoices. We might achieve our targets just by making the threat, or dangling the carrot, depending on how optimistic these guys are.’

As a time saving exercise, and because I could not be trusted to deliver such potentially explosive news, Hobbs conducted the meetings for the north London contractors over two days, summoning each of them into his office. I was released from Mike’s tutelage to sit on a few of the meetings, which followed a similar tone and dynamic as Mike’s with his own contractors.

Giles Winters and Bob Hustings, whom I had met during my first day out in the field with Hobbs, both greeted the news with terrific excitement. They clearly felt their businesses were the type of ‘flagship’ companies Hobbs was looking for, and each of them offered great encouragement to Hobbs’ for his daring plans. Winters, sparing me a robust clout across my back this time, chose to squeeze all of the blood from my hand instead, while Hustings went all misty eyed when Hobbs mentioned the figures involved: he was clearly going to have to seek planning permission for an extension on his wallet.

Other responses were more muted. Doug Shires sought assurances that there would be constant and open dialogue, while Mick Kavenagh, looked as if he was going to burst a few blood vessels on hearing the news. He made a minor recovery on hearing that his company had not been ruled out of contention. ‘No-one has been ruled out or ruled in,’ Hobbs assured him.

‘Well, even so Gary. That’s a lot of work you’re talking about there, me man. I’d be worried we could handle that sort of growth now, so I would.’

I didn’t witness the reactions of Martin Brevett, George Kelps or Bernard Corcoron but Hobbs told me they were all shocked, none pleasantly so.

Still, I had other fish to fry. Talk of what might or might not happen in six or nine, or twelve months time sounded strenuously silly, but I went along with it, asking questions that I hoped were relevant, buying myself a little more time.

The figures weren’t making any more sense than they were at the start of the week but following Mike’s advice was keeping me from innovating any new disasters, for the time-being at least.

As I worked late that night, reading up on my notes, analysing yet more data, correspondence and computer records, Mike and Hobbs sat and talked in Hobbs’s office. The door was shut. I knew my time was running out, and merely staring at other people’s work and ideas was not going to save me from calculated slaughter for much longer.