Alistair Rothschild strode past the white façade of The East India Club and through the heavy, manned doorway.
“I’m a guest of Henry Carlisle,” he announced to the host, irritated, as he handed his dripping umbrella to a cloakroom attendant. There had been only six or seven steps from the Jaguar to the door of the club, yet the October rain was thundering down with such force he may as well have walked the entire way from London Bridge to Mayfair for all the dryness he’d retained.
“Of course, please come this way, sir.” The host led the grey-haired man through to the Library where Henry Carlisle sat with Theodore Montgomery, Managing Director of Falcon Investments.
“Alistair. I’m glad you decided to come,” Henry said, standing to greet him.
“Henry, Theodore,” Alistair nodded.
“I trust you’ve been discreet,” Henry asked, giving Alistair a sideways glance and getting the necessities out of the way.
“Of course,” said Alistair, taking a seat in an antique leather Chesterfield armchair.
“But that’s not to say,” he hastened to add, “that I endorse anything you are about to put to me.”
Henry smiled warmly, his red hair catching the glow of the logs burning in the fire beside them. “Why, of course,” he replied. “We wouldn’t expect anything more from you Alastair. Until, at least, you’ve heard me out.” Henry swirled the remnants of his gin and tonic and drank it down before beckoning over a waiter standing by the door.
“Bring us a bottle of the Chateau Mille Roses.”
“Right away, Sir,” the waiter replied and disappeared from the room.
Henry leaned forward and looked intensely at Alistair, noticing him flinch slightly. The two men had never quite got along. Henry was always fiercely defensive of his long-standing relationship with their CEO, rarely allowing the other board members a word in edgeways when the group came together.
“I’ve asked for you to join us because …” Henry sighed heavily. “I need to talk to you about Marcus. I’m worried about him.”
Alistair chose not to react, much to Henry’s obvious annoyance. First of all, he knew Henry was up to something. It had become obvious in the past few weeks Henry hadn’t had the sort of access to Marcus he usually enjoyed, and he’d been heard bad-mouthing the very CEO he claimed to be best friends with. Since the Lure factory scandal, Marcus had kept a close eye on the finances of every Falcon Ventures Investment – Henry’s primary responsibility – making it clear to not only the board but the entire senior management team, that Marcus didn’t trust his CFO. So, Alistair doubted the sudden show of concern on Henry’s part was genuine.
“What reason do you have to be worried?” Alistair asked, looking at Theodore’s anxious expression then back to Henry. “He seems perfectly fine to me. Busy, of course, but there’s nothing new there, and he has just come very close to getting his fingers burned by the incident with Lure.”
The mention of the very scandal that had prompted Marcus to suddenly micro-manage his CFO, sent a visible shiver down Henry’s spine. Still, he remained composed. He was prepared to play the long game.
“Well, yes,” Henry replied, “he does seem fine. And to me and you, he does appear to be busy. Naturally he wants to make sure none of our other investments are exposed.”
“So, what’s the concern?”
Henry paused for a moment, as though trying to choose his words carefully. “He’s become too focused – obsessed, you might say – with the Ventures arm of the business. He’s taken his eye off the ball elsewhere in the Group.” Henry looked pointedly at Theodore. As the Managing Director of the Falcon Personal Investments business, he was perfectly placed to verify this. Theodore nodded and spoke quietly.
“We’re losing some big-name investors. They’ve been asking for more face time with Marcus and he hasn’t been giving it. So, they’ve cashed in early and taken their money elsewhere.”
Alistair straightened. Perhaps this meeting wasn’t just about Henry playing the petulant schoolboy who hasn’t had his gold star in a while. If Theodore was seeing problems, maybe there was more to their ‘concerns’ than he’d originally suspected.
“How long has this been going on?” Alistair asked.
“We always get requests from clients to see Marcus, you know that,” Theodore explained. “It’s half the reason they bank with us; they think he’s some sort of rock star. And usually he’ll make time for them, once a quarter, sometimes more.”
“But now?” Alistair pressed.
“Ever since that HR business came along…”
“You mean Skilld?” Alistair clarified. “The investment that’s currently outperforming every single one of its targets?”
“Yes, that one,” Theodore glanced at Henry. “Well, ever since that investment appeared on the scene, it seems to be all Marcus has had eyes for. That was ten months ago. He hasn’t met one of my clients since.”
Alistair rubbed his temples with his forefingers as Theodore continued. “God knows I’ve tried to keep them sweet for as long as I could. I’ve racked up some rather large bills at Mark’s Club, let me tell you.”
“But you know he can’t be everywhere at once. I mean, that’s why he’s appointed you, Theo. So, you can share the load. He has had a lot to deal with lately, with everything that’s happened at Lure.”
“But that only came to light in the last two months,” Henry said, sitting back in his chair. “It doesn’t excuse the six before that.”
“Fine,” Alistair replied, his patience wearing thin. “Have you tried talking to him? Surely that would be the most mature course of action?”
“I don’t know about you, but I haven’t been able to pin him down. Otherwise, of course, I would let him know my concerns,” Henry replied.
Alistair narrowed his eyes. Henry was Marcus’s closest colleague; surely, he would have had numerous opportunities. But Henry wasn’t going to let on that every single meeting he’d had with Marcus recently had been unnecessarily detailed, interrogative and downright humiliating.
“I’ve met with him, yes, but he doesn’t appear to want to listen to me. I’ve tried talking to him about this,” he lied. “But as Theo rightly points out, he’s been immensely preoccupied with Skilld. And my worry is, Skilld is just one of our ventures, and ventures make up just one part – the smaller part – of Falcon Group. His attention is being misdirected and the longer this goes on, the more our bread and butter will walk out that door.”
Alistair rubbed his eyes; he was tired. He’d seen many a boardroom catfight and countless reshuffles and refocuses. But he was getting old and hadn’t expected to have to deal with yet another corporate minefield so close to his retirement. “So, what are you proposing?” He asked, wearily.
Henry leaned forward. This was it. This was the moment he’d discover just how ready for retirement this old man was. Would he go along with Henry’s plan, for an easy life, or would he fight it, take Marcus’s side and put himself in the crossfire?
“We,” Henry began, gesturing to Theodore as a reminder that there were currently two voices in support of this proposal. “We think it would be better for Falcon Group if Marcus stood down as CEO …”
Alistair went white. At the most he’d expected an emergency board meeting – a crisis talk – to give Marcus a chance to hear their concerns and an opportunity to rectify them. But not this. Henry saw the flash of alarm in the old man’s eyes.
“Wait, let me finish. We think it would be better for the Group as a whole if he stood down as CEO overall and instead became MD or even CEO of Falcon Ventures, ceding control of the Group but retaining responsibility for the start-ups arm. It’s the business he’s most passionate about. That way he could step back from the other Group businesses and focus on the one he’s most interested in.”
“He won’t go for it, Henry, you know that,” Alistair said. “Falcon is Marcus’s company – the whole Group. Of course he isn’t going to step down and hand that responsibility to someone else. It’s not even worth entertaining the thought.”
“What if he had no choice?” Henry replied, in a clipped tone.
“What do you mean?” Alistair felt his chest tighten.
“If we, the board, pass a vote to have him cede control, he won’t have a choice.”
“That would never happen,” Alistair shook his head. “Charles wouldn’t vote for this, and neither would Lucas …”
Henry didn’t respond. He knew Alistair was right, which was precisely why he needed him on board; the others would be more easily persuaded if the Chairman was already in favour.
“What are you hoping to achieve, Henry? Are you gunning for the CEO job? Why don’t you just talk to Marcus about it?”
“It’s irrelevant who takes the CEO role,” Henry lied. “What’s important is our CEO is focused on the Group as a whole, not just one arm of the business. You know how long I’ve known Marcus. I know this would be the best thing for him. He’ll be able to focus on his passion, the Ventures side of the business. He can spend all the time he wants to with Skilld, knowing that the rest of the Group is being taken care of.”
“This is crazy,” Alistair said, rubbing his temples. “Marcus wouldn’t step down and I don’t think there’s any need for him to. As Chairman, I have no complaints at all regarding the way he runs this business – his business.”
Henry tried to hide his frustration, especially as the waiter chose that moment to return with the wine. The three men sat in silence, the tension palpable, as the waiter poured a sliver into a large, tall stemmed glass and offered Henry a taste. Henry waved it away.
“I know what it tastes like, just pour it, will you?” The waiter dutifully poured three glasses with a shaking hand and left the room as quickly as he could.
“Do I need to show you the latest reports?” Henry sighed, impatiently.
“I’ve already seen them,” Alistair replied, sternly. “Yes, there’s been a dip in some areas, but we’re on an upward trajectory which is what matters.”
Henry took a swig of his wine. “So, you’re not going to consider anything I’ve said, even though it’s been with Marcus, my close friend’s best interests at heart?”
“I have considered it, Henry, and I don’t agree. I don’t want to discuss it any further.”
Henry relaxed his face and smiled thinly. “I respect that,” he said, changing tack. “Thank you for hearing me out. Will you stay for a glass of wine?”
“No, I won’t; you enjoy it,” Alistair said, amicably. “I’ll see you at the next board meeting.”
“Absolutely, Alistair. Have a good evening, old chap.”
Henry watched as Theodore walked Alistair out of the room. You’ll be sorry you didn’t listen to me, he thought. He reached into his briefcase, pulled out a brown A4 envelope and leafed through the collection of photographs. Marcus Armstrong isn’t the respectful, honourable CEO you apparently worship, Alistair Rothschild. And it’s time the world knew about that.