He said, “It’s a worry, of course.” He wasn’t willing to enter into an unstructured conversation with these or any other media people.
Rick said, “We need that final list of questions.”
The meal was modest and enjoyable; the assistants presumably had their own arrangement; they sat at the back of the room, away from the table. Billie maintained her position, always cautious. Conversations were desultory. When they’d finished eating, Rick said, “Your assistants appear to have finalized a list. Terry, can you let Victoria review it for me?”
One of the PAs had rushed out to arrange a printout of their proposed questions, and she silently handed a handful of pages to Tovani, who in turn handed a page each to everyone seated at the table.
Toby quickly read the list and inwardly shuddered. Halfway down the page someone had included a brief question: Who is Darwin?
Rick said, “We’ll look at these off-line and communicate an approved list back to the studios.”
“Yes, I agree. Some are very intrusive.” Victoria spoke up, her voice firm, and addressed the three execs. “Gentlemen, we need twenty-four hours. We’ll delete questions that are far too intrusive. Questions on Toby’s love life—the existence of it or not—and on the finer details of his uncle’s businesses, will be removed, I can assure you of that.”
Muire protested, “My dear girl—”
Toby could sense Victoria’s bristling reaction.
The exec lumbered on. “We need details like that. Our audiences demand—”
“I suggest you find a better class of audience,” Victoria returned. “Our decisions will be final. If, during the interview session, there is an attempt to add questions, even as a follow-up, we will end the video process then and there. Is that understood?”
The three men, with obvious reluctance, indicated their agreement. The meeting concluded with little additional conversation.
Billie checked with the Drexel guards on duty outside and led Toby and Victoria out. A security bot followed; its presence was a surprise to the other people in the room. Its camouflage was very effective.
“I’m glad that’s over,” muttered Toby.
“The actual interview will be far worse,” Billie replied.
“We’ll help keep everyone under control,” Karla promised.
Later that day, after Toby and Billie returned to the new apartment, Toby was trying to relax while he read through another report on a sector of his uncle’s business. He pushed it aside, concluding it should go to one of his new team members. He sighed. It might come back to him, perhaps with a recommendation. There would be a learning curve, he realized, as the team took on their responsibilities.
Billie entered the room as he sighed. Her smile was sympathetic. She sat on the side of his chair and ruffled his hair. “Difficult times, huh?”
“There’s so much to cover. I really don’t know how Nate managed.”
“Are you sure he doesn’t have a management team hidden away somewhere?”
“I checked with Darwin and he said no. I’ve spent most of this week with my new team and they’re beginning to grasp the size of their challenge. Catching up with their tasks is going to be hard work for them.”
“Maybe he had clones.”
“God, I hope not. I love my uncle and miss him, but coping with a multitude? Far too much to deal with.”
oOo
Chapter Twenty-Eight
The television interview was scheduled for Wednesday evening. Toby had spent the best part of two days reading and reviewing the agreed set of questions and rehearsing his answers. Every part of him signaled, no, don’t do it; however, he felt that he’d given an undertaking that he should honor.
Billie tried to reassure him. She said, as she drove Toby and Victoria to the rented studio, “You’ve rehearsed your answers. Stay focused, don’t let Shelley either antagonize you or lead you into deep waters.”
“Easy for you to say.”
“I know.”
Toby laughed. “This is society’s revenge, after all my Toby In The City vblogs.”
“You should be comfortable by now with having your face plastered all over the Internet.”
“I suppose. It’s the potential intrusion into Nate’s business and personal affairs I don’t like.”
Billie reminded him. “Short polite replies will stop that. Remember what we practiced.”
Victoria said, “I agree. Do as we rehearsed.”
Traffic was light and they reached the studio with time to spare. Two of the Drexel security team escorted Toby and Victoria into the building while Billie parked the Tesla. The building was a squat, bulky gray structure, about ten floors, located on a corner. There was little to identify it apart from a grouping of gold-lettered business names on the front door.
Karla was waiting in the lobby. She was accompanied by Terry Tovani’s PA who smiled and rushed forward when she recognized Toby. Her greeting totally ignored Victoria and the two-man Drexel escort and didn’t allow Karla any opportunity to speak.
She gushed, “Mr. McIntosh—Toby—we expected you to be early. We’ve already signed you in. We need to take this elevator to the studio floor. It’s direct. Terry is waiting for you. Our team, of course, is ready to start. Shelley Summers is here with her people. Alastair Airlie and his producer from SkyV are late. I’m so glad it’s sunny today after those storms. We’re all anxious to hear your interview.”
Toby, bemused, said nothing. The young woman didn’t stop talking until they arrived at the studio floor where Tovani and Rick were waiting. Apparently, Tovani’s PA had somehow signaled their arrival.
“Welcome, Toby—you don’t mind first names? And of course, Victoria, it is good to see you, too.” Tovani ignored the two Drexel people. “Your other young lady—she’s not here?”
“She’ll be here in minutes,” Toby affirmed.
Rick said, “Come on through to the hospitality room. If you want something to drink—hot, cold, alcoholic—follow me.”
Toby said, “Water for me.”
Victoria said, “Same for me, thank you.”
The young woman in charge also ignored the two Drexel guards. They must be invisible, Toby thought. He passed bottles of cold water to the two men and sat down at the table. It was glass topped, and the chairs, also glass, were particularly uncomfortable. Trendy designs apparently supplanted comfort. There was space for another fifteen or so attendees. A fifty-inch television set was tuned to a news channel; he did not recognize which one. The sound was off, although the flickering image was distracting. Toby thought it was a political report.
Tovani said, “We’ve had word that Alastair will be here in five. Nothing yet from Muire.” He smiled; there was a vindictive touch in his expression. “We can hope.”
Rick added, “You’re scheduled for makeup on the hour. I’ve allowed fifteen minutes; you won’t need much. Our interviewer, Shelley Summers is already there. Karla’s with her.”
Toby nodded. Summers was an interesting choice and had been unanimously approved by the three studios. She had a reputation for subtle exposés. She was rumored to use her intelligence, beauty, and sexual attraction to lead the unsuspecting interviewee, especially if male, into unexpected lines of questioning, hardly ever to her detriment. Earlier, Billie and Victoria had discussed the need for him to be alert and stay focused. Even Darwin had quietly made comments; to Toby’s surprise, he had made a study of the woman.
Bronwyn whispered in Toby’s ear; he was still uncertain how she was managing these private communications. “I’ve also checked Ms. Summers. I looked at the profile Darwin produced and he missed some important details. Five years ago, your uncle took control of a company that her father had established, and she believes he was underpaid, that somehow Nate cheated him. She didn’t know her father had been defrauding the business with a false invoice scam. Nate was a minority shareholder and discovered the fraud. He agreed to not press charges as long as Robert Summers disposed of a
ll his shares. The market was depressed at the time, and Nate bought enough stock to become the majority stockholder. It was a closely held company and while Nate communicated the details to other stockholders, no one else wanted to take a substantial risk. Nate ended up buying all of Summers’ holdings. It was a fortunate acquisition. The company had invested a lot of money developing a chip based on quantum processing and almost immediately after Nate’s stock acquisition it announced a successful trial. Nate’s latest processors are quantum-based. The new chips utilize nanoscale crystals that emits photons at an individual level. As a result we get exceptionally fast and secure data transmission.”
Bronwyn continued. “I included a copy of the agreement between Robert Summers and Nate in your folder when you were printing out your notes this morning. It details the entire invoice scam. Use it if she tries to trap you.”
Toby was surprised that he was able to maintain a neutral expression while Bronwyn was communicating her bombshell. As a precaution, he sipped at his glass of water to hide his face.
Bronwyn added, “Almost as important is news relating to her partner, Andrew Hopkins. He is about to be subject to legal action for insider trading. She’s aware of the details and is trying to protect him. The evidence is clear-cut. I included details of that, too. You have enough material to counter her traps. You’re fortunate that this is not a live broadcast.”
Toby agreed. He was sure his reactions would be less structured if the interview was live. At least, this way they had a chance to influence editing, if necessary.
Rick said, “Billie’s here. Alistair and his collection of assistants have arrived. There’s still no sign of Muire. It’s time for your makeup appointment. Tovani and I will entertain Victoria while you’re away. Billie will keep you company?”
Toby looked at Rick, as though objecting to the makeup requirement.
Rick pushed him towards the makeup room. “Yes. It’s unavoidable, I’m afraid.”
Toby sat in the chair while the makeup artist worked his way with him. It required both his and Billie’s efforts to stop him from going to extremes with face color and eyebrow emphasis. In the end they both protested loudly and the artist agreed the work would start over.
Toby ignored a disparaging comment murmured by his neighbor, whom he assumed was the interviewer. She was undergoing final touches and had been given a head, neck, and shoulders massage before her hair stylist and makeup artist began their tasks. The massage apparently had not relaxed the woman as much as was needed.
Shelley Summers stood and dropped her body-length protective fabric cover. Toby thought her age was mid-forties, although the makeup artist had done an effective job and as a result she appeared to be no more than thirty. She stood five feet five inches and had an athletic build. Toby tried to compare the sophisticated reality in front of him with her more candid photos that occasionally swamped the Internet. She was a chameleon, it seemed, dressing and posing to achieve a desired effect.
She stared down at Toby as he lay back in the chair and said, “I won’t say pleased to meet you. I’d like to keep some distance to ensure I remain independent. I will enjoy our interview, though.” She turned and left the room, her hair stylist running after her.
Billie said, “I’m glad we had you rehearse. I wonder why she seems antagonistic.”
“Agreed. No idea about the attitude. Perhaps it’s part of her softening-up process.”
The makeup artist whispered as he applied his final touches. “She’s regarded as a bitch in the industry. She’s upset so many studio people she now has to bring her own stylists and makeup people wherever she goes.”
Toby said. “Thanks. For the work and your comments. It’s going to be an interesting experience for me.”
“Good luck, sweetheart.” The man removed the wraparound he’d used to protect Toby’s shirt and watched as he stood. “Somehow, I think she’s the person who needs the luck. Enjoy.”
Billie and Toby made their way back to the conference room. Billie was struggling to constrain her giggles. “The look on your face, sweetheart.”
“He seemed nice,” Toby protested.
“Yes, once we straightened him out. Although, when he heard you are the Toby as in Toby In The City, he really put on the charm. You have quite a following.”
“A million or more. I’m recording parts of today for my next broadcast. People want to know what a television studio is like.”
The two security guards followed silently. At times, it was easy to forget they were there; at other times, their presence bordered on intrusive. Toby tried to cope, given the need for their presence.
Tovani and Airlie, with four PAs, were waiting for them.
Rick caught Toby’s eye and led him, Karla, and Billie to the small studio that was to be used for the interview. Shelley Summers was already there; she was pretending impatience, while knowing full well that Toby had only minutes ago finished his makeup session. Her hair stylist was still fussing.
Toby was introduced to a number of support people including the camera operators. He didn’t try to retain names and roles; the reality of the pending interview was starting to hit. He was thankful Rick and Karla were in charge. He wished the interview was over and resisted an impulse to check his watch.
Karla directed Toby to a chair at a table; it was glass-topped although nowhere near as large as the conference room table. Shelley sat opposite. Cameras were running; one was in his face and a second was over his shoulder; there was a similar setup for his interviewer.
Karla said, “We’re counting down, now.”
oOo
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Toby laid his folder on the table. He was certain he was going to need the additional notes provided by Bronwyn.
Shelley, too, set a folder of notes on the table.
Karla and Rick tested cameras and microphones. They got the thumbs up from the sound engineer. At last Karla said, “Let’s begin, shall we.”
She counted down the seconds. “The clock is starting, now.”
Shelley smiled into the camera. She was reading from a cue sheet behind Toby. “Good evening. My name is Shelley Summers. We’re here today to interview Toby McIntosh, heir to the Nathan Travers estate and business empire, the net worth of which is rumored to exceed thirty billion dollars. Mr. Travers has disappeared, and authorities suspect foul play of some kind. We’ll explore the law enforcement issues later in the session. Now, let me introduce Nathan’s heir, Toby McIntosh.”
The camera in front of Toby began to flash a red light. He looked directly into the lens.
“Good evening. I’m Toby McIntosh. Some of you may know me as the producer of Toby In The City, a vblog.”
“Toby—I may call you Toby?” She didn’t wait for an answer. “Toby, your uncle is Nathan Travers? Tell me how you’re related?”
“My mother and Nate were siblings. Both my parents were killed in an auto accident when I was twelve. He then took responsibility for me until I was in college.”
“You had—apart from losing your parents—a happy childhood?”
“Yes, absolutely. Nate was very kind to me.”
“Toby, what has happened to your uncle, to Nathan?”
“We don’t know. I received a communication from his attorney that he was missing. They were not able to explain his absence.”
“Ah, yes. Reuben Jones. We have tried to obtain a statement from Jones and Jones, unsuccessfully. Why is that?”
“Because they don’t wish to make one?” War was declared.
“We’ll examine that later. Toby, how large is your uncle’s estate? How much have you inherited?”
“I don’t consider I’ve inherited anything at this point. I expect my uncle will return once he’s completed whatever task he’s working on.”
“But—we’ve been advised you are now controlling his business affairs and live in one of his apartments, yet you say you haven’t inherited anything? Please explain.”
“My uncle has allowed me to live in his apartments before, when I was a student. There’s nothing strange or extraordinary about that. In Nate’s absence, someone has to make business decisions, pay the gardener, collect the mail, and do all those day-to-day tasks. That someone happens to be me.”
“Can you cope with management of a thirty billion dollar empire? You have no experience. You’re what, a college lecturer?”
Toby thought, wow, someone has done their homework. He replied, “Why not? I’m family—he wouldn’t expect a stranger to take over. And no, I’m not a college lecturer.”
Shelley looked surprised at his answer and quickly checked her notes.
“My apologies, Dr. McIntosh. I see you were an assistant professor at Caltech until a few weeks ago. Tell me more about your uncle. How did he build his fortune?”
“I’d say it was down to hard work, creativity, and astute judgment of future trends.”
“Indeed? We need to take a break for commercial purposes.” She looked directly into the camera. “We’ll be back shortly.”
The breaks were pre-planned, timed to match probable commercial breaks, and also provided opportunities to add stock video about Nate and Toby; subject, of course, to Toby’s approval. The breaks could also be far more extended, depending on the needs of the interviewer and interviewee.
The sound engineer left his booth to adjust the microphone on Toby’s lapel while Rick fussed with camera settings.
Karla dragged Toby back to the interview. “Please return to your chair. We’re ready to re-commence.”
Shelley Summers had ignored Toby during the short break. She shuffled and reshuffled her notes as though impatient with the commercial pause. At Karla’s signal she sat down, her file open on the table in front of her.
Shelley looked into the camera—the one almost at Toby’s ear. “Welcome back to Travers Television and our interview with Toby McIntosh.” She smiled. “In case you’ve forgotten, I’m Shelley Summers. My last question before the break was: how did Nathan Travers gain his phenomenal fortune? Dr. McIntosh’s reply was less than informative. Again, Toby, how did your uncle build his fortune?”
The Darwin Project: Book One: Annihilation Series (The Annihilation Series 1) Page 17