by Rory Pralte
“Do you mean to say you’re arresting me?” shrieked Paul, suddenly aware of the actual position.
“For the moment you are being detained. If you wish to contact your Consulate we can arrange for you to phone them.”
Thirty minutes later Paul spoke to an official at the German Embassy. The official’s advice was clear. Paul would be detained while the customs people confirmed his story as to the source of the money. There would then almost certainly be charges, a fine, possibly detention. The Consulate would send a representative in the morning to talk to Paul and the customs people. In the meantime Paul was to sit tight. He had very little choice!
*
It was at 4.30 that afternoon that Patrick went to 186-6 Sakadori Avenue and entered the door of the headquarters of the Motu Trading Company with an appointment to see Kanji Toba, one of the myriad of Overseas Liaison Managers in this twelve-storey hive of worldwide trading. The Japanese trading company’s aims were, as their name suggests, to make a return on trading. The area they worked in was very wide but the sector Patrick was interested in was in the electronics area. Patrick had a simple plan. He needed to raise cash, fast. His company developed electronic systems and he needed to do two things. Firstly he knew that unless he got funds quickly his U.K. company was gone. Therefore he wanted to interest Motu Trading in a licence and the licence had to be with an up-front payment. The Japanese do not like or expect to be rushed and, in negotiation, patience is not a virtue if is a necessity. Patrick was well aware of this. His plan was one of an honest and steady approach and his aim was over a period of two weeks to put together a series of meetings hopefully to conclude a deal. He hadn’t long, but by slowly proceeding, even be it over a short time, he hoped to show patience but conclude. Patrick had met Kanji Toba previously, when working in conjunction with Skymar prior to the cancelled takeover. Although most of Skymar business was conducted through Watanabe Trading, in one area both Watanabe and Motu Trading shared products from one manufacturer.
Patrick entered the building and was taken to the fifth floor and shown to the meeting room. He was offered tea, which he accepted. Within a few minutes Kanji Toba entered. Patrick rose, “Toba-San. Good to see you. Thank you for seeing me at short notice.”
Kenji Toba was short, even for a Japanese man, smoked like a trooper and had an unpleasant habit of snorting as if clearing out a blocked nostril. He shook Patrick’s hand. The two men sat down.
Patrick began. “Toba-San, you may or may not be aware that the proposed amalgamation of my business with Skymar’s of California is off.”
Toba-San looked slightly surprised, as it had been common knowledge that Patrick’s company was going to amalgamate with Skymar.
“Toba-San, we have a number of computer memory cards developed, including fax and modem cards that are the best available today. As a small company, we cannot exploit the market for these and therefore cannot gain volume or have access to volume manufacturers to bring economy of scale and therefore keen pricing to these products. Whilst I am here in Japan I am meeting a number of parties to try to build a partnership to exploit these exciting products. I have naturally come first to Motu Trading as I believe you have great strength in these areas. I believe with the excellent contacts you have with Japanese manufacturers and your own distribution, very good opportunities are available.”
Kanji Toba lit a cigarette. He sat back in the armchair and blew smoke through his nose. He snorted. He looked at Patrick. “Japan is too expensive for us to produce these products in. For volume electronics we are using Korea, Taiwan, Thailand, but the volumes have to be large. We have contacts in these countries. You know that from your dealings with Skymar and their trading company. Actually, the owner of their main manufacturer, Pyo in Korea, has just died. But for us to be interested we would need details, samples to evaluate the market.”
Patrick opened his briefcase and withdrew three small folders. “Toba-San, here are details of our products, our estimate of costs, margins and market sizes. As you know, in the computer industry time is critical. These products need to be marketed in the next three months otherwise potential markets may be lost. I am not prepared for that to happen. The information contained here will tell you all you need to know. I will call you in two days to discuss your interest. Based on that, if you are interested we will then want to discuss heads of agreement as a prelude to releasing confidential information. However, I am able to demonstrate the products if you are interested.”
The Japanese took the papers, glanced at them. “Meet me in two days at 4pm and we will see. Now I must leave you as I have a busy schedule.”
Within twenty minutes Patrick had walked back to his hotel. Time for a catnap, a shower and a nice cold beer before the evening. Patrick was feeling quite good. Maybe he was winning at last.
At 7.20 that evening Patrick went to the reception of the Shiba Park Hotel. “I am expecting to meet a Mr Ichi Taduii of Watanabe Trading at 7.30. My name is Patrick Chase, my company name is Board Developments. When Mr Taduii arrives, will you tell him I am in the bar. Oh, and where is the bar?”
The reception clerk pointed towards the rear of the reception area. “Through reception and across a small road, it is on the left,” and he ushered Patrick towards a bellboy, who took him through to the bar. The Rugby Bar, thought Patrick, good old England. He looked around the bar. A sleek, immaculate Japanese girl was playing a grand piano in one corner . Patrick selected a seat facing the door and immediately another pretty girl asked him if he would like a drink. “Sapporo Dry please,” said Patrick. His mouth was dry. He could really use a beer but there was a tinge of anticipation in the dryness of his mouth. He hoped tonight he could progress some sort of payday. The cool beer was placed in front of him. He looked up, smiled at the girl and said, “Thank you.” She smiled back. God, she looked so lovely and so innocent, thought Patrick. Christ he’d been away from his wife too long already - better get back to the beer. Raising the glass, the cool Sapporo slipped down his throat. That’s better, he thought, now Taduii where are you?
Taduii arrived at the Shiba Park by taxi. It was not a hotel he frequented. Not a meeting place for high-flyers. He had had a wretched day. After early-morning solace at his local bar he had rung his office to say he was in a long meeting; nothing unusual in that. He’d tried to eat a lunch of sashimi in a small restaurant just off the Shinjuku area and after lunch, which mainly consisted of his staring at the plate and moving food with his chopsticks, he returned to the Watanabe building and his desk at the head of the trading floor. He moved papers round his desk for most of the afternoon. At 4.30 he was called to a progress meeting regarding some of Skymar’s products that Watanabe Trading had licensed and were being manufactured by partners in Taiwan and Korea. There was a brief discussion regarding the effects Pyo Han’s death in Korea would have on the Han Company. Nobody knew much yet. It was rumoured that Pyo Han had been found dead in his office, but nobody knew the details.
“The amount of women that guy screwed it’s not surprising he’s dead,” joked one of Taduii’s colleagues. Taduii did not find it funny. The meeting broke up around 6.15 and Ichiro Taduii went to the company washroom to clean up. At 6.45 he said goodnight to his colleagues and took the elevator to the entrance of the Watanabe building. He walked up to the taxi rank at the main exit of Shinjuku Station. It was a ten-minute wait until he was at the head of the taxi queue and stepping into the taxi, he asked the driver to take him to the Shiba Park Hotel. At 7.45 his taxi turned the corner and drew up outside the hotel. He paid the driver and entered the hotel lobby. He looked around. No Patrick, then he went to the desk.
“I have a meeting with a Mr Patrick Chase,” Taduii said to the reception clerk. The clerk looked at the message book.
“Your name please?”
“Ichiro Taduii.”
“Yes sir, he is waiting for you in our Rugby Bar, the bellboy will show you there,” a
nd the reception clerk beckoned to a waiting bellboy.
Taduii was taken through to the bar entrance . Patrick saw them as they entered, put down his drink and rose and the bellboy ushered Taduii towards Patrick.
Patrick looked Taduii directly in the eye and offered his handshake . “Please sit down, Taduii. What would you like to drink? Scotch?” Taduii nodded and Patrick beckoned one of the girls. “A large Scotch on the rocks please and one more Sapporo Dry.” The drinks were brought to the table and Patrick raised his glass. “Kampai Taduii-San, I hope you got over your family problem this morning. Thank you for meeting me. I hope we can conclude this matter quickly and fairly. I believe it is in all our interests.”
Taduii still did not look well, thought Patrick. He was either upset with whatever family business had interrupted their morning meeting, if in fact this was the case, or genuinely upset at the nature of the discussions. Puzzling.
Taduii sipped his Scotch and then looked at Patrick. “I understand that Pyo Han has died,” Patrick said, as a matter of conversation, having learned this from his meeting with Motu Trading.
The effect of this on Taduii was startling. Taduii’s face went ashen white. He took another big slug of his Scotch and his hands were shaking. Taduii’s brain was racing. Was this to underline the threat Patrick was posing Taduii and Skymar? Patrick obviously was not playing around. Taduii didn’t know what to do. To offer a man recompense of $70,000 when that man appeared to be prepared to kill for what had been done to him was patently absurd - bloody tight-fisted Michael. Taduii tried to speak to Patrick. His words came out falteringly. He was trying to think on his feet.
“C-can you outline to me the details of our discussion this morning and the reasons for your request to me to settle?”
Patrick repeated his statement made earlier, regarding the broken licensing deal and involvement of Watanabe Trading in holding licences for products that were not Skymar’s.
“Patrick,” replied Taduii, still in a faltering voice, “what value do you place on this supposed illegal licence and, if this is fact, and I cannot agree that it is, what type of settlement would you be looking for?”
Patrick considered this response. He leant forward in his seat. He knew in his own heart he was full of bluff but if he had learnt one thing from working with Skymar it was that when negotiating from a supposed weak position, think strong and negotiate strong.
“Taduii, let me put my cards on the table. My company and I have been totally deceived by Skymar and Michael and his crew. However, you and your company are commercial partners to this deception, whether knowingly or not, by having both bought and sold licences to products, technology and patents that belong to Board Developments Ltd and myself as inventor. There are two solutions to this matter. Only one makes sense. That is a settlement. We are prepared to settle this matter on the following terms. A payment now of $350,000 plus a royalty agreement for one per cent of sales over five years, with agreed annual minimum quantities underwritten by bank guarantees.”
Patrick drew breath. If he could get this he would be in clover and his company would be set up with a nice solid base of revenue. Taduii was about to respond when Patrick cut in.
“Taduii, you can see my offer of settlement makes sense. It is open for any negotiation of finer points and conclusion and payment for five days. If it is not concluded by then, it will be withdrawn and we shall proceed in the manner we have outlined.” Taduii’s face went even whiter. He undid his top shirt button and loosened his tie.
Patrick was still staring at him , puzzled. The threat of legal action made at their earlier meeting seemed to be having an effect far beyond Patrick’s comprehension. The only thing he could think was that the commercial consequences were far larger than Patrick had realised.
Taduii’s reactions and thoughts were entirely different. This Englishman was crazy. He’s maybe killed Pyo, done unmentionable things to his girl Anya from the Italian Corner to get the initial information on Skymar and Watanabe. He’s shit-scaringly serious. Michael, Skymar and Watanabe would have to find a solution and it was going to have to be dollars far in advance of the paltry $70,000 Michael mentioned.
Taduii finished his Scotch, and falteringly said to Patrick,
“You have made your position very clear. I have to speak to people and I will suggest a meeting of all parties in Tokyo tomorrow. Can I contact you tomorrow to confirm this?”
“No Taduii,” said Patrick, “I will ring you at Watanabe at 10 tomorrow to confirm arrangements. Would you like another drink? Our business for tonight appears at an end.”
“No, I will have to go,” and with that Tadui stood up and, with a slight bow, turned and left.
Patrick settled back in his seat, sipped his beer, picked at the peanuts on the table and amused himself. What the hell was going on? He could not put his finger on it. Ah well, he thought, at the moment all seems possible. Time for one more beer then back to his hotel for an early night before his arranged meetings for tomorrow. Patrick felt satisfied. Not too confident - he had been there before - but satisfied. Perhaps he could pull it off!
*
When Ichiro Taduii left the Shiba Park Hotel he jumped straight into a taxi and went directly to the Watanabe building. It was not uncommon for managers to come and go until late evening, as there was a company bar and restaurant on the top floor. But Taduii went straight to his desk. He had to review the position with the business with Skymar and think of ways to be able to find a settlement through Watanabe. He knew Michael would screw up on facing up to the Englishman’s price and Taduii was really frightened. Not now for his job, lifestyle or past misdemeanours but for his life! If only Patrick had known.
Taduii spent a few hours at his desk at Watanabe reviewing the current business position with Skymar and seeing if there was any room to manoeuvre some more cash from Watanabe to satisfy Patrick. By 11.30 he had come up with only two options. The first was a long shot but worth trying. But first he had to find out where Patrick was staying in Tokyo. He rang the Shiba Park Hotel and asked for Patrick Chase. The clerk who answered took a long time.
“No one of that name registered here.”
“Double check,” Taduii spat the words out. The clerk checked again.
“We have nobody of that name registered here Sir, I am sorry.”
Taduii put the phone down. Where the bloody hell was the Englishman staying? He’d assumed that as they’d met at the Shiba Park then Patrick would be staying there. Then it suddenly dawned on Taduii. Maybe Patrick was staying nearby. It was an area he’d stayed in before, because Taduii remembered Michael had mentioned something to the tune of “Typical place for the tight-fisted Englishman to stay. No class.”
Taduii got out his directory of Shiba area hotels and one by one rang the reception of each. At each one he told the same story. He had an appointment with an Englishman first thing in the morning and it was imperative to get an important message to him. By the fourteenth call Taduii struck gold. The Squire Hotel. Taduii then left the Watanabe building by taxi,going straight to the Italian Corner. It was quiet. Taduii was met by two girls. “Where’s Suzy?” he snapped.
“She’s with some Arabs,” answered one of the girls.
“Get her and bring her to my table with my bottle of Scotch, and hurry!” spat Taduii. He was ushered to his usual table at the back corner of the club. After two minutes Suzy was there.
“Taduii-San,” she said as she knelt and poured his Scotch. “I shall not be able to stay with you tonight. I have already made other arrangements.”
“Cancel them. I have a special evening for you with an Englishman friend of mine. It is extremely important to me and to you. Do you get my meaning?”
Suzy understood Taduii was not to be messed with from her previous encounter.
“Give me five minutes to rearrange my Arab friends’ entertainment and I will return.”
Fifteen minutes later Suzy was on her way out of the club, with $1,000 in her purse and the promise of another $2,000 if she was successful. She was puzzled but acted according to her profession, out of fear and driven by money. She was on her way to a hotel in the Shiba area of Tokyo, the Squire Hotel, for a meeting with an Englishman she had never met and with very strict instructions on what to do.
At the same time Patrick was sleeping soundly in his room at the Squire Hotel, unaware of the many surprises the night had in store. What an alarm clock Patrick had waiting for him. It was two in the morning when Suzy entered the hotel lobby. She did not try to brazen her way past the night staff. She went straight to the front desk. A slightly sleepy night receptionist was startled to be faced with a gorgeous-looking girl. Suzy spoke first.
“Patrick Chase in room 756 has requested my company. I am an old friend,” Suzy winked knowingly at the desk clerk. “I think you know what I mean.” Suzy handed the desk clerk a 10,000 yen note. She continued.
“I know the hotel has rules about letting girls into guests’ rooms, but I am really a very old friend so keep that for your trouble and I’ll slip upstairs in the elevator.”
With that Suzy walked straight to the elevators, pushed the button and within fifteen seconds was on her way to the seventh floor.
The desk clerk was taken aback, folded the note and put it in his top pocket, shrugged his shoulders and returned to the paperwork he had been completing before Suzy arrived.
Suzy stepped out of the elevator on the seventh floor. She quietly walked down the corridor of room doors until she was outside number 756. She rang the bell three times and put her finger over the peephole in the door. Nothing happened. She repeated the bell-ringing.