The Ringmaster

by Morris West

  ‘I understand it. I respect you for telling me. I still pray we may never be enemies.’

  ‘I too, Gil.’ He gave a small despairing shrug. ‘But circumstances change so swiftly. I was told tonight that an American/British group may bid for Carl Leibig’s companies.’

  ‘Would he or his family sell?’

  ‘I don’t know how the shares are held. But since everyone has a price, we have to be prepared for the possibility.’

  ‘What happens then to the Tanaka/Leibig alliance?’

  For the first time Tanaka relaxed and laughed. ‘Then I mount a counter-bid with another German partner, who is already in place if we need him. But you see, Gil, nothing is quite as simple as it looks. When the earthquake comes and the great plates grind together, people get hurt. You could get hurt, Gil. I don’t want that to happen. On the other hand, I may not be able to prevent it.’

  It was the old, old problem: he was saying much less than he meant. I had to decipher the message for myself. I thanked him for the warning. He acknowledged my thanks. Then I faced him with the one question to which he had to give a straight answer.

  ‘Do you have any objection to my employing Marta Boysen?’

  ‘In your publishing business? None at all. On this project? Yes, I have objections. We still have to work with Carl Leibig. On the other hand,’ he chose the words with a certain care, ‘if you have a personal need of her, take her. Enjoy her. She’s a well-educated, beautiful woman. You’re getting too old to be catting around the alleys.’

  It was an equivocal answer, heavy with sexual innuendo and traditional chauvinism, both of which I chose to ignore. I wished only that I could be a fly on the wall of Tanaka’s bedroom when Miko reported her little chat with Marta. Now it was time to close the show. I suggested we should sum up, so that there could be no possibility of misunderstanding between us. I counted off the points.

  ‘You want me to continue as mediator to the conference.’

  ‘I do.’

  ‘You will inform me as soon as there is a Russian contact available to me.’

  ‘I shall.’

  ‘It is agreed that the political aspects of the proposed deal are to be subordinated to its practical applications.’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘You have arranged that Leibig’s contentious material is to be suppressed.’

  ‘I have.’

  ‘My future procedures with Leibig: who makes the next contact?’

  ‘He does. In the morning you will receive a note of apology for the unauthorised taping. He has agreed to destroy the master tape. After that your relations will continue as originally planned.’

  ‘In that case I shall not preempt his decision on Marta Boysen. She has told me that she is very unhappy with this morning’s events. I shall indicate simply that there is a place open in my company at any time she cares to consider it. For the rest,’ my turn now to do a little underlining of the subtext, ‘it would be unwise for anyone to make presumptions about the lady and myself simply because we have a long-standing family relationship.’

  Tanaka’s relief was plain. He offered me his hand across the table. I noticed that it was slack and clammy. ‘Thank you, Gil. I wish I had been trained to be as direct as you; but even our language doesn’t permit it.’ He gave a small tired laugh. ‘Perhaps it’s just as well. If all the millions of these small islands decided all at once to proclaim their private convictions, we’d have a hell of a mess! Would you mind calling the ladies down? It’s been a long night for me.’

  While the waiter was bringing the telephone to the table he added a swift afterthought.

  ‘Would you like us to drop Professor Boysen at her hotel? It would save another car and another trip.’

  ‘A good idea. Thank you.’

  When I called my suite Marta answered.

  ‘Marta? Gil. Mr Tanaka is ready to leave now. He’s offered to drop you back at your hotel.’

  ‘That’s very kind.’ She was a woman who picked up cues quickly. ‘Miko and I have had a most pleasant chat. I’ll call room service and ask them to clear away the coffee things. Then we’ll be right down.’

  We said our brief farewells in the forecourt where Tanaka’s limousine was waiting. Marta Boysen thanked me for a pleasant evening and promised to call me in the morning. I asked her to give my regards to her mother and to thank her for the photographs which I would have blown up and framed as a keepsake for her. That was the only hint I could give to prepare her for the interrogation she was sure to get on the drive back to the Okura. When Tanaka eased himself into the limousine after the women, I noticed that he was pale and sweating profusely.

  As I stood on the kerb watching them drive away I felt a surge of relief that the long day was over. I was dizzy with fatigue and deeply troubled by Tanaka’s obvious anxieties. I was glad that I had been spared a private farewell with Marta Boysen. I was strongly attracted to her. She had been disarmingly warm and open with me. But I was in no mood to begin a new affair, or risk making a fool of myself on a first encounter. Of course, that was only half the truth. The rest of it was less comfortable to contemplate. I was not a youth any more. I was getting middle-aged and crotchety. I had other things on my mind than pillow-talk and love-games.

  When I got back to my suite I found an envelope pinned to my pillow. The note inside it was written in Japanese:

  ‘I like your Marta Boysen; but Carl Leibig is going to fire her, because she made him look bad in the meeting. Kenji will not interfere because he is under a lot of other pressures. News of his illness has leaked out among the family of big companies. I think his doctor sold the secret. So now a power struggle is beginning in the keiretsu. It is complicated by the problems in the Gulf and the effect on the stock markets around the world. Kenji needs your support and your friendship. Especially he needs this Russian project to go smoothly, though he will never tell you how great is the need. I can tell you because I trust you and I am very fond of you although I cannot share myself with you as I might sometimes wish to do. Please destroy this letter and do not speak of it to anyone. You will do what your friendship tells you. Miko.’

  It was written in haste on hotel stationery. The script was awkward, the language less than polished; but the message was clear and, I believed, authentic. It told me in a woman’s way what Tanaka failed to convey with twice the eloquence. He was ill and in trouble. The vultures were assembling in the treetops.

  To understand the dimension of the drama, you have to have some grasp of the complexity of Japanese business organisation. Most of the big firms in Japan belong to half a dozen even bigger groups, vertical and horizontal organisations like Mitsubishi, Sumitomo, Sanwa and Mitsui. Each of these groups has its own banks, its own insurance companies, its trading houses, its estate agencies and share brokers. All the units within it hold interlocking shares and have interlocking directors. The biggest groups are similarly hooked in one to the other. The total effect is rather like that of a huge, all embracing net whose strands are impossible to follow. There is another effect, too, even more potent, a set of unwritten rules under which both risks and decisions are shared and any rule-breaker gets very short shrift indeed. The system is a marvellous shock-absorber against the ups and downs of world markets. However, the rivalries within it and the pressures on ailing or failing members are enormous and occasionally lethal.

  Tanaka’s metaphor of the earthquake was absolutely accurate. Woe betide any hapless creature who became trapped between the grinding plates, upon which the whole intricate structure rested. In the context of financial instability the illness of a man like Tanaka could spell catastrophe, especially if he refused to step down at the prudent urging of his peers. If he became incapacitated, or if his reputation were damaged by too many mistakes, he would have to be insulated first and then quite possibly eliminated.

  The Russian deal was an enormous risk. Therefore the other members of the big groups were holding back until the risks were shown to be acceptable.
The effect of the political context, the hark-back to Haushofer and his theories, was paradoxical. The big men of the big houses saw them as positive elements. They pointed to a renewal of historic alliances that had almost succeeded and this time could very possibly succeed. If they led to a return of lost territories – more, if they gave Japan a foothold back on the mainland, trading presences in Siberia, in Manchuria – ah, then the whole equation would be different.

  So Gil Langton, the tame gaijin, was begged not to rock the boat. Gil Langton could roister himself silly with wine, women and song, all on a very large expense sheet, but he must not meddle in the big game staged by and for the big players. Truth to tell, Gil Langton had no intention of doing anything so silly. He would fulfil his contract to the letter: best efforts, candid discussion, no polemics, no politics. Then he would go about his business of spreading enlightenment through the printed word to Arab and Greek and Armenian and Uncle Tom Cobbley and all! Gil Langton was a very sleepy boy. He was already launched into a dream of fair women.

  I had not been asleep five minutes when the telephone shrilled in my ear. Marta Boysen was on the line, bright as spring sunshine.

  ‘I just wanted to tell you I enjoyed myself very much. I hated having to hurry away like that, but it was difficult to refuse.’

  ‘I suppose Tanaka bombarded you with questions.’

  ‘As a matter of fact, no. He wasn’t very well. Miko had the chauffeur drive to his apartment first, then take me on to the hotel.’

  ‘We might just as well have gone in my car.’

  ‘I know. Never mind. There’ll be other times. However, when I got back there was a letter waiting for me from Carl Leibig.’

  ‘Oh. What does it say?’

  ‘Nothing much. He asks me to be at his office at nine-thirty in the morning to discuss a matter of mutual importance. He is sending his car to pick me up. What do you think it means?’

  ‘More importantly, what do you think it means?’

  ‘It could be he wants to get rid of me, which is what I’ve been thinking about all day. If that’s what he has in mind, I’d rather resign.’

  ‘Don’t be a fool, woman!’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘If you resign it costs him nothing. If he fires you he has to pay severance, transport home, whatever else is stipulated in your contract.’

  ‘I hadn’t thought of that.’

  ‘Keep thinking of it. Pride’s a costly indulgence. Call me after you’ve spoken to him. I’ll be in my office.’

  ‘Is that the best you can do, Gil Langton?’

  ‘There’s one more thing.’

  ‘Do tell me.’

  ‘If you’re out of a job in the morning, I’ll offer you one with Polyglot Press. The money’s good. And I’m much easier to get on with than Carl Leibig. Think it over.’

  ‘That’s very kind of you Gil, but …’

  ‘No buts, please! I’m dead in the water. Call me tomorrow. Golden dreams, schatzi.’

  ‘And to hell with you too, Gil Langton!’

  I called the operator and asked her to put a block on my phone until seven in the morning. After that I remember nothing, not even the dream of fair women. Obviously I had lost it.

  Four

  Every Friday in Tokyo I became a company president, Japanese style. I sat at the head of the boardroom table with Yukio Tanizaki, my chief executive, on the right and Junichiro Oshima, my financial controller, on the left. On either side of the table, in descending order, were the executives of Polyglot Press Japan Incorporated – editorial, illustrations, production, sales, promotion – each with a label, each with a precise place in the hierarchy.

  I was not expected to do anything or say anything. I was Number One, he who sat, silent and awesome, on the throne of power. It was Tanizaki who ran the meeting. He snapped out the questions, made critical comments on the answers, meted out praise or blame and ended always with a tirade: however well things had been done, they could always be done better; if they had been badly done, it was a collective responsibility to see that mistakes were not repeated. He was as merciless as a master sergeant in boot camp.

  When I had first seen the ritual performed I had been shocked. People should not be treated like that. There had to be better ways of motivating a team than by public abuse and humiliation. This was old-fashioned hype for the football jocks in the locker room. It had nothing to do with the making and selling of books.

  Tanizaki and Oshima took me to lunch and told me, very respectfully, the facts of business life in Japan. If I wanted to be a nice guy that was fine, but nice guys always ran last in the rat race. If I did not care enough about performance and profits, my staff would not care either. If they were not bullied enough they would feel rejected, inferior to their colleagues in other publishing houses. When I answered that I wanted to show appreciation for good work, Tanizaki told me that I could do it at bonus time. Even then, a certain restraint was advisable. The employee had to respond with a gift to the boss; and the proportion of one to the other was critical.

  So I learned silence and the company prospered. We held our staff and the work got done and our bills were paid on time. The Friday ceremony became a feature of my visits, a parade ground ceremony. Once I had met everybody and exchanged bows and compliments I became as redundant as a fifth leg on a donkey. The astral form I left behind in the chair would still dominate the meeting.

  Nevertheless I liked to be there, watching how this one and that answered the quite brutal challenges of Tanizaki, the meticulous probing of Oshima into costs, sales projections, discount sales and the rest. I never asked questions directly, I put them through Tanizaki or Oshima. The staff were prepared for their interrogations. Mine, coming out of high heaven, would most certainly have embarrassed them.

  Just before midday I was called out of the meeting to take a call from Marta Boysen. Her news was a complete surprise.

  ‘Rejoice with me, Gil. I’m the prodigal daughter, kissed on both cheeks and welcomed back into the family.’

  ‘How the hell did that happen?’

  ‘My mother did it.’

  ‘Come on. Don’t tease me, I’m busy. What happened?’

  ‘Well, after we talked last night I lay awake for hours thinking. I didn’t want to lose this job. I’d put a lot of work into it and the possibilities are still enormously exciting. I thought about your offer, which was more than kind. I’d love to work with you, but I couldn’t work for you. Then I remembered the exercise which my mother imposes on all her students, especially those who are just beginning to get professional engagements. She calls it “reviewing the performance” and she takes the artist phrase by phrase through the piece, with criticisms and notes for improvement. So, when you hung up on me last night, that’s exactly what I did. I went over my performance at Leibig’s meeting and I decided that he had a perfect right to fire me. I had acted quite arrogantly and left him no line of retreat from all the quite valid criticisms which the rest of you had made. I could and should have remained silent. So I took the initiative, apologised very humbly and offered my resignation.’

  ‘Which he promptly refused.’

  ‘Not promptly. He had to go through a little song and dance first, for the benefit of the young man who appears to be his senior aide. Then, having delivered his reproof, he relented. He did not want to lose me. He did not agree that the Haushofer material was a dead letter. There was still enormous value in it. All that was needed was to reshape the argument, and who better to do that than Marta Boysen, now that she had learned discretion. So there you are! Tonight I’ll buy the champagne; unless you have another Friday woman?’

  ‘I’ll have to check my diary, but I think I’m probably free. Why don’t you pass by my office at six and let me show you what you missed? Then, maybe we can talk about plans for the weekend.’

  ‘I’d like that, very much.’

  ‘And I’m glad we still have you with us. Tanaka will be pleased too.’

>   That was a tactical error and she picked it up immediately. ‘You mean he knew I was going to be fired?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Miko, too?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘That was in the note she left for you?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘But none of you told me. And neither you nor Tanaka intervened with Leibig?’

  ‘No. We agreed it would be impolitic to do so.’

  ‘But you at least could have warned me.’

  ‘You were already expecting it. I offered you a job, wasn’t that warning enough?’

  ‘Why couldn’t you be open with me? I’m a friend, a colleague. I’m not a pawn on a chessboard!’

  ‘Then before we meet tonight, I’ll follow your mother’s precept and review my performance. Meantime I’m glad things turned out well with Leibig. See you at six.’