Plantation A Legal Thriller
Page 114
Chapter 114
The EGM had been a fait accompli from the outset but Ashby had wanted to stage it to put pressure on Black.
“We now have the shareholders’ agreement to handle the claims in the way that we want.”
Ashby was at the head of the boardroom table with Simon Wells and Ed Meredith on one side and Nigel Black and Roger Grenville on the other.
“From the reaction downstairs, Nigel, you can see for yourself that the shareholders want a de-merger. I’d like you to think it over. You’ve got seven per cent of the company. That’s not bad, considering the standard of your underwriting and the two thousand per cent loss ratio on the business you wrote. However.....let’s not go into that just now,” he said while holding up his hand to silence Black who was clearly infuriated. “While we’re killing these claims one by one, I’d like you to think about how we can resolve our differences. The shareholders and I would prefer you to leave the company and.....”
“Of course you would – we know that already – but it isn’t quite that simple, is it ? Without Stirling coming along when it did, we wouldn’t be sitting here talking about it today – there wouldn’t be any Plantation. Would there ? And what the other shareholders want and what they get, are two different things. I’m the largest shareholder, after you. If my position is secure, it won’t matter what the others want. They won’t be able to do a thing about it. And I can say now that I feel confident....that I won’t be going anywhere, so you’ll just have to put up with me, one way or the other.”
“Have you thought about what your shares might be worth ?” asked Meredith. “If Robert was able to buy you out, would you consider a reasonable offer for them ?”
“Not a chance,” said Black. “I have no intention of selling my shares – to anyone.”
“What about an exchange of shares from one of Plantation’s other companies ?” suggested Simon Wells. “What about the broking company ? If you‘re looking for a good investment....”
“It’s no use continuing. I’m not interested.”
“Then that narrows our options, doesn’t it ?” said Ashby. “The board appears to be split and in dispute with one of its directors who refuses to resign. We could take a vote on it now and you’d be out.....but we won’t, at least for the moment. I bear you no ill will and I would like to resolve matters in an honourable fashion – and so I will leave you to think about what we’ve said. In the meantime, we – that is, the three of us,” indicating Wells, Meredith and himself, “will get on with trying to overcome the Victor 7 claim. Who knows ? If Plantation loses, it won’t make any difference – and none of us will get anything.”
“Precisely,” said Black and with that, the meeting was adjourned and Ashby and his allies headed off down the corridor to his office while Grenville and Black went in the opposite direction.
In Ashby’s office, the triumvirate considered where matters stood.
“Why didn’t you just push him out, then and there ? Why wait ?” asked Wells. “He’ll only cause trouble while he’s stalking the corridors. You do know, of course, that he and Grenville read all of the incoming faxes on each of the claims and where the company has other involvements such as with Texas Fire, for instance ?”
“Yes, I know. But it’s better to have him close so that we can see what he’s doing rather than outside the company and plotting behind our backs. And we already have a mountain of court cases against us without yet another one from him.”
“At least the courts give you a clear indication of what your opponent wants and how you can finish with them,” said Meredith.
“You surprise me,” said Ashby. “Most people would say that courtrooms and judges had nothing to recommend them. Anyway, let’s move onto the Victor case. What’s been happening while I was away ?”
At the same moment when Meredith was describing the recent depositions taken by Waterford of Felsen and Deitz in London, Black and Grenville were walking down Leadenhall Street together. After crossing at Bank into Cheapside, they headed up Change Alley.
The Grenada Coffee House had originally opened in the reign of James II, then became a chop-house in Georgian times and was now a wine bar, hidden away in an enclosed courtyard. Only traders from the nearby Metal Exchange went there during the day when it was heaving with customers until early closing at three o’clock.
On this particular day, after re-opening at six, it was deserted apart from a solitary patron who sat on his own at an end table on the far side of the bar. When the others entered, the man looked up from his newspaper, stood up and finished his glass of wine.
“We need to be quick,” said Black, “we don’t want to be seen.” After removing an envelope from his overcoat pocket, he gave it to his contact and said, “Make sure Jeremy gets this.”
“Thanks, it’ll be safe with me,” said the man and made a hurried exit.
“That should put an end to their ridiculous charade in New York,” said Black. “Let’s go.”
They stopped outside the wine bar to make sure that no-one had spotted them then walked back down to Cheapside, crossed over to St Michael’s Alley and went down Lombard St until they reached a side turning which took them to the Promontory Club. Waiting for them in one of the dining rooms was Max Weber and one of his German colleagues from ADV. Once the champagne was poured, Weber immediately got to the point.
“Nigel, Roger.....our board in Düsseldorf has discussed your offer for Plantation – and I regret to say, that it has been rejected.”
It wasn’t unusual for German companies to prevaricate, sometimes for years or even decades. Black had expected this. What Weber hadn’t said, was that he’d also spoken to Vittorio Gallazone and exchanged notes with him about the negotiations. Both of them thought they’d been led down the garden path. There was no point both of them over-paying and so the Germans had gone cool on the idea of taking over Plantation at all. Or at least, that was the impression which Weber wanted to convey to Gallazone and the others.
“We understand entirely,” said Grenville, “it’s an uncertain time at the moment for the company.”
“Perhaps your board may think differently once the claim in New York goes against Ashby in another fortnight,” said Black.
“I doubt it,” replied Weber, “we’ve thought carefully about it and we would be very unlikely to change our decision.” At the same time, he was thinking that if Ashby was to hold off the claim from Victor Oil and if Plantation came up for auction, it was Ashby he should be speaking with, not Black and Grenville. He would happily leave Gallazone to deal with them and allow the Italian to think that the field was his. ADV was betting on Ashby. And Black knew it.
“Well, that is a shame,” said Black mournfully. “We’ll have to see if anyone else is interested.”
“I wish you buona fortuna,” said Weber with raised eyebrows and they all laughed together.
End of ‘Plantation’ Book 1
Book 2 Due for Publication June 2017
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