‘Well – an Upper Second is pretty good.’
‘Perhaps you don’t understand. We’re not looking for people who are “pretty good” – we want our competitors to hire people who are “pretty good”. We want the best.’
‘Of course. That’s why I applied to Barton’s. If I’m going to be an investment banker then I want to work for the best. And I don’t rule out a First by any means. I think an Upper Second is in the bag and I’m aiming to do better.’
‘So presumably you’d have no objection if any eventual offer from us is conditional on you achieving a First?’
‘No… of course not… though of course things can go wrong on the day. Ideally an unconditional offer would be better, but obviously it’s up to you.’
‘Indeed it is. Now, I see from your application form that you list numeracy among your skills. Are you numerate?’
‘Definitely – I’m very comfortable with numbers.’
‘What’s three per cent of seventy-two?’
‘Three per cent of seventy-two?’
‘Yes – come on! Imagine you’re having a fee discussion with a client and we’re talking millions of dollars!’
‘Let me think…I’m sorry, mental arithmetic was never my forte… two point…’
‘Two point one six. I’ll put you out of your misery.’
‘I’m sorry. Why don’t you try me again?’
‘That’s not necessary. Tell me what you do least well.’
‘Least well? Oh dear…let me think about that for a moment.’
‘Perhaps not for too long – this isn’t mental arithmetic, and I do have to see other candidates.’
‘Yes, of course. Well I suppose my biggest problem is that I try to take on too much.’
‘Oh really? That seems to be a common failing. Should I take it that you can’t prioritise or merely that you have no focus?’
‘Well, neither really…what I meant was…’
‘That you’re simply over-ambitious, tenacious, don’t know when to give up, aim for the highest achievements in everything you do, coming second is the same as coming last.’
‘Exactly! That’s exactly what I meant.’
‘Yes… I thought perhaps that might be the case. Let me give you a practical problem to consider. Let’s suppose you’re running a trading desk at Barton’s. You buy ten million shares for the firm at 100 pence a share. You go to lunch and when you come back, they’ve fallen to 70 pence a share. You have three choices – sell at once, taking the loss, because obviously it was a bad decision to buy them; alternatively, buy more, because if they were good value at 100 pence, they’re a bargain at 70 pence; or third, sit tight, because it was your professional judgement that it was right to buy them in the first place, so you won’t panic, you’ll just sit it out?’
‘Gosh – I’ve never traded before, but… well… I think I’d sit it out.’
‘That’s the only wrong answer. A good trader should never do nothing. Buy more to average down the price of your overall holding, or just get rid of them, but never do nothing. And by the way, you’d also be fired for going off to lunch while you were running a volatile position.’
‘Oh God, I’m sorry. Look – should we just end this now? I’ve totally messed up every question you’ve put to me.’
‘What do you mean – “should we just end this now?” – I thought you agreed earlier that you’re tenacious? Where’s your tenacity now? Do you think our business is a pushover, some children’s game where you can cry for mummy if things don’t go your way?’
‘Oh God, this is hard.’
‘Of course it’s hard. What do you expect?’
‘I’m sorry, darling, I just can’t.’
‘What do you mean, “darling” – have you forgotten this is an interview?’
‘Roger, I really can’t keep this up.’
‘For God’s sake, darling! Just play the game, dammit!’
‘Roger, I’m sorry. You know I find this hard. I’m a lawyer, not an investment banker. I know this turns you on, but it’s really hard for me. Why can’t we just fuck like other couples?’
‘For God’s sake – just play the game! I thought we’d discussed all this before! Just play along. You know how hard this was for me – I just need to face up to it, to deal with it. Help me, please. Come on, do it for me.’
‘Oh God, all right, Roger. Just give me a moment.’
‘That’s better. Let’s try again. Are you ready? Now – is it Christina or Chris?’
Off-site
THE LOBBY OF the Sheraton Hotel in Copenhagen was crowded with investment bankers.
‘What’s the collective noun for investment bankers?’ asked Lawrence.
‘I think a baffle,’ replied his colleague, Joe Smaller. ‘A baffle of investment bankers!’
The two of them made their way to the registration desk to sign in and collect the conference pack and agenda. After the signing-in formalities they were directed to a large notice board where delegates had to complete a series of personal questions against their names, intended as an ‘icebreaker’ by the American organisers.
‘What are your two greatest achievements in life?’ Lawrence paused, thinking. For a moment his eyes glazed over and he was miles away. Then he quietly wrote, ‘Miss A and Miss B’.
‘Okay,’ said his companion, ‘mine’ll be getting to Miss A and Miss B before Tom Lawrence.’
They laughed.
‘If you were given a year’s sabbatical, how would you spend it?’ Lawrence again looked wistful. ‘On a beach, with Miss A and Miss B.’
‘Drying out!’ joked his companion. ‘Let’s see what some of the others have written. Wow – check this out. Donaldson’s written “Winning the Excalibur takeover mandate” and “Being named corporate financier of the year in the Finance Mail”. And he’d spend his year’s sabbatical making his finance skills available to charities working with deprived children in the inner cities. Who’s he kidding?’
They dropped off their belongings in their rooms and made their way down to the bar. Their newly appointed head of department was standing chatting to some of the younger directors, drinking a Perrier.
‘Gin and tonic!’ called Smaller through the crush. ‘And a large one for my father,’ he added, pointing to Lawrence.
‘Hello, Tom. Isn’t it a little early in the day for hard liquor?’
Lawrence found himself looking at his perfectly coiffed, immaculately turned out head of department, Andrew R. Scott II. He was a large, pleasant-featured man, softly spoken for an American, part of the self-styled East Coast aristocracy.
‘It’s never too early for a gin and tonic, Andrew – anyway, aren’t we supposed to be relaxing, letting our hair down?’
‘Sure, Tom, sure. Here, have you met these guys? Hey guys, let me introduce you to Tom Lawrence. Tom’s one of our M&A megastars in London! Tom, let me introduce you to…’
Lawrence’s eyes glazed over as he fell reluctantly into corporate mode. His companion slipped away to find a better watering hole, smirking over Scott’s shoulder as he disappeared.
‘…And so, to sum up, what we have to achieve over the next eighteen months is to establish a clear structure for our business, determine priority sectors and target clients, and re-align resources accordingly. Once we’ve achieved that, we’ll be positioned to take our rightful place alongside the major Wall Street firms.’
The polite applause from the audience caused Lawrence to wake up. It had been a late night, and the first session of the day was set to be one of the most boring, so he had taken the opportunity to cat-nap in his seat at the back of the conference hall. Smaller nudged him. ‘Watch this – get ready!’
From the podium the speaker asked, ‘Are there any questions or would you prefer to wait until the end of the morning session?’
‘Over here!’ Smaller called out to one of the pretty usherettes carrying microphones at the side of the hall. ‘Over here!’ She hurried to the back of
the hall and passed the microphone along the line. When it reached Smaller he passed it on further down the line. ‘Stephen Donaldson!’ he called, gesturing further down the line, ‘Stephen Donaldson.’
Donaldson looked horrified and blushed as he was passed the microphone.
From the podium, the speaker looked out into the audience. ‘I think I heard that Stephen Donaldson from our London office wants to raise a point.’
Donaldson stared at the microphone in his hand, completely at a loss for what to say.
‘Stand up! Stand up!’ shouted Smaller.
Donaldson dutifully complied, cleared his throat and started. ‘Thank you. It was a most interesting presentation.’ He looked around helplessly. ‘I would just like to ask how quickly you see the re-organisation taking effect.’
‘Bingo! Got him!’ laughed his tormentor.
The speaker looked gravely at Donaldson. ‘Stephen, I laid out the timescale at the beginning of the presentation, and I mentioned it again in my summing up. But just for the sake of clarity, let me tell you one more time, we’re talking eighteen months.’ The speaker looked up from the dais. ‘That’s eighteen months, Stephen, okay?’
A number of people laughed, chuckling at the notorious sycophant’s misfortune. Donaldson muttered ‘Thank you’ and sat down, looking daggers at Smaller.
Andrew R. Scott II stepped up to the podium and looked out at the audience.
‘Ladies and gentlemen, for the next part of our morning session, we’re going to divide into break-out groups for in-depth discussions of the topics listed in your schedules. Each group will have a facilitator and will have to appoint a spokesperson to report back to us all on the group’s conclusions…’
Lawrence spent lunchtime on the phone, to Smaller’s disappointment, or seeing some of the younger directors for private chats. ‘You didn’t miss much,’ said Smaller on his return. ‘They closed the bar. We had fruit juice and Perrier.’
Lawrence shrugged wearily. ‘Never mind, I daresay we’ll make up for it later.’
‘Ladies and gentlemen,’ began the conference organiser, a pretty blonde American with a syrupy accent. ‘The next part of our programme is listed on your schedule as “Team-building events”. Well, I know a number of you have been curious as to what exactly this involves.’
Smaller nudged Lawrence. ‘Bonding, I hope – especially with her!’
‘Well,’ she continued, ‘now’s surprise time! We want you all to divide into groups – altogether we want six groups of twelve each. And we’re all going to go on a treasure hunt. But we’re not hunting for real treasure. What we’re hunting is cultural treasure! The treasures of this great historic city!’ Lawrence and Smaller looked at each other, raised their eyebrows and groaned. ‘The purpose of this exercise is team-building, so we’re introducing a competitive element. We’re going to give you all lists of famous buildings, sites to visit, statues and so on, and at each of them you have to find the clue that will help you answer a question. Whichever team answers all the questions correctly gets to win a special prize!’
As the meeting broke up, Lawrence called over a number of the younger directors, mostly Mergers and Acquisitions people from London and the other European offices. When his team were assembled, they set off. Smaller called after him. ‘Hey, where are you off to? Aren’t we going to be on the same team? I thought we’d just piss off round the corner and spend the afternoon drinking.’
Lawrence grinned. ‘Sorry – looks like my team’s full.’ He looked almost sad, and Smaller, taken aback, slapped him on the shoulder. ‘Hey – don’t worry! I’ll hook up with Grigg and Barnet – they’re always good for a drink!’
The conference dinner was coming to a close. It had been a noisy affair, with a lot of alcohol consumed and much goodwill exchanged between colleagues. Donaldson’s group had won the team-building competition, while Lawrence’s team had scored no points at all. In fact Lawrence’s group had given no account of how they had spent their afternoon. Smaller and his friends were very drunk, and roared with laughter and banged on the table when Donaldson went up to collect the prize, a signed copy of Modern Business Culture and Ethics by C. Donald Bormann, their American Chairman. ‘Ask for a loose-leaf version, so you can hang it in the gents,’ cried Smaller as Donaldson self-consciously returned to his seat carrying his team’s ‘prize’.
Somebody banged a spoon on a glass and the noise died down. Andrew R. Scott II stood at the head of the table and tapped a microphone that had been placed in front of him.
‘Is this working?’
‘If you mean the conference, I’d say it’s a disaster!’ called Smaller, laughing uproariously at his own joke. Lawrence smiled, almost sympathetically, and leant across to him.
‘Why don’t you cool it for a while? Let’s hear what he has to say. Take it easy, eh?’
Smaller was surprised but complied with his friend’s advice.
‘Ladies and gentlemen, we’ve come here today for the first ever global off-site of the new, integrated Corporate Finance and Investment Banking Division. We’ve brought together senior professionals from all over the world from parts of the organisation that previously worked entirely separately. We’ve heard presentations about the future, we’ve talked, we’ve thrashed out some of the big picture issues that face us, and we’ve all gotten to know each other a little better.’ He paused, looking down the table at Joe Smaller. ‘Warts and all.’
Several people laughed and looked at Smaller, who grinned back innocently.
‘What I haven’t yet shared with you is my new management vision, the team of senior people whom I’ve selected to help me run the integrated global business. In combining the different parts of the firm that are being brought together in the current re-organisation, we’re creating an enormous talent pool. But it’s a pool comprised of many different cultures and backgrounds, not to mention nationalities. What we have to work towards is a single, unified culture and outlook. That doesn’t mean we’re in the business of creating clones. We prize individuality, providing it’s expressed within a team context operating within the overall organisational structure, just as we promote our global vision within a multi-local, diverse network of offices on the ground.’
‘What’s he talking about?’ asked Smaller, looking decidedly the worse for wear.
‘Cool it, Joe,’ replied Lawrence. ‘Let the man have his say.’
‘So who will be helping me to run this great undertaking of ours? First, and most important, my deputy, Herman Radowitz. Herman will be my deputy, based with me in New York and empowered to take decisions on my behalf in my absence. He will chair all management committees which I myself am not chairing, and will deputise for me at those committees which I normally would chair, but which I am unable to attend.’
‘What?’ said Smaller, confused, but Lawrence hushed him again.
‘Second, Jerry Li. Jerry will run Asia-Pacific, based in Hong Kong. He will have day-to-day management authority for that region, including hiring, firing and compensation recommendations at year-end. Third, Europe. Stephen Donaldson will run Europe, based out of the London office. He will have the same authority as Jerry in Asia-Pacific.’
There was a momentary silence interrupted by a groan followed by a splashing sound as Smaller slid beneath the table and was sick. The people sitting on either side of him pushed their chairs back to avoid being splashed as he retched. ‘Ladies and gentlemen,’ Scott continued, grimly determined not to be put off by the interruption, ‘This is my chosen team. You’ve heard my vision, you’ve heard the team I’ve chosen to implement that vision. If anyone around this table is less than one hundred percent enthusiastic and supportive, they should leave now!’
There was silence around the table, even from Smaller, who pulled himself up into his place and mopped his face with a napkin.
‘Er-hm!’ Lawrence cleared his throat. ‘Should we take your words literally, Andrew?’ All heads turned towards him.
‘You b
etcha! Anyone here who is not one hundred percent behind me should leave now.’ Scott was trying to sound uncharacteristically loud and aggressive, but there was a hint of uncertainty in his voice.
Lawrence looked down the table at Donaldson, who was smiling smugly, his face shining from the warmth of the dining room and too much alcohol.
‘In that case, I think it’s only fair that I should leave now.’ Lawrence was on his feet. ‘I’m sorry, but the part of the firm that I know was always a broad church, flexible, adaptable, more like a family. We had no organograms. But we did know each other, pretty well actually, without being sent on treasure hunts together. We used to say that our only strategy was not to have a strategy. We’d look back at the deals we’d done during the year and call that our strategy. And we didn’t use business school jargon all the time or hold off-sites. Dinners, yes, great dinners for the whole team, but not off-sites. We kept our overheads low and our profit margins high. But I guess that doesn’t matter any more.’ He turned and walked slowly towards the exit.
Further down the table, with an embarrassed clearing of his throat, one of the young directors who had been on Lawrence’s treasure hunt team stood up. ‘I’m not going to say I’m sorry, because I don’t actually think I’m going to miss any of this.’ He turned to follow Lawrence. Another two stood up from Lawrence’s London team, then one each from the Paris and Milan offices, then the head of M&A in Frankfurt and two of his junior directors, and finally four more from London and one from Madrid. They all followed Lawrence from the room. There was a deafening silence around the table. Scott looked deathly pale and sat down. Even Donaldson looked frightened. As the remaining directors looked up and down the table, they realised the heart of the M&A practice, the only truly profitable part of the division, had just walked out of the room. The emperor was stark naked.
A wail went up from halfway along the table. It was Smaller, and he was crying. ‘Why didn’t he take me?’ he asked his neighbour. ‘We’re friends. I’ve known him for years. He didn’t even ask me.’
Donaldson got up from his place, white-faced and shaking, and walked down the table to Smaller.
Dave Hart Omnibus II Page 40