Keith Lambert looked pleased as he emerged from the conference room. The meeting with the dark-suited men had gone rather well, he thought. There had been some concern at the beginning when John Bolen arrived bearing a letter, signed by Harry and Laura, withdrawing the Bolen Brothers bid, but after a hurried consultation among themselves, it was decided to carry on and listen to what Lambert had to say.
But as soon as it became apparent Lambert was not buying the “complete package” concept, the chairman, a plump, red-faced man by the name of Bollinger, objected immediately.
“Completely unacceptable,” he declared. “It was made quite clear from the beginning that the land is not divisible. It is either all or nothing, and if this is your position, then we have wasted our time in coming here.” He began to straighten papers in front of him as if preparing to leave.
Heads nodded around the table. There were fourteen of them in
all. Cardboard name-plates identified each by name and the areas of expertise: “Min. of Def.”; “Min. of Ag.”; “Min. of Env.”; “Housing and Planning”; “Lands and Surveys”; “Regional Planning”; “Rural Dev.”; tapering off at the lower end of the table to such cryptic captions as “Eng. S.L. Div.” and “Eng. P.V.D.,” whatever they were.
But one head remained still. Seated directly opposite Lambert was a thin-faced, mild-looking man whose name-plate read simply: “A. V. Vernon,” and his role there had remained unexplained when Bollinger made cursory introductions. Vernon sat back in his chair, fingers steepled beneath his chin, eyes half closed, and it seemed to Lambert as if the man had deliberately detached himself from the rest of his colleagues.
But now he stirred himself and spoke. “On the other hand, Mr. Chairman, since we are here,” he said mildly, “might I suggest that we hear Mr. Lambert out?”
Bollinger fussed with his papers. “Do you really … ?” he began, then stopped as heads began once more to nod, and he realized that all eyes had turned to Vernon. “Well, I suppose we could,” he conceded, “that is, if everyone is in agreement?” He looked around hopefully for a sign of disagreement, and found none.
“Thank you, Mr. Chairman,” said Lambert formally. “I do appreciate the opportunity, and perhaps I should begin by saying that I understand the enormous pressures that have been brought to bear on your respective ministries when it was decided to close the training centre. Pressure from the businessmen and -women who depend on the Centre for their livelihood, pressure from environmentalists, who wish to see the land returned to its original state, and pressure from the farmers in the area, as well as others. So, I have tried to take that into consideration in my proposal.”
Bollinger bristled. “If you are suggesting that we are under pressure to be rid of this land at any price, Mr. Lambert, you are very much mistaken. What we are talking about here is prime building land.”
“One-third of it is potentially prime building land, I grant you,”
Lambert agreed, “but I feel bound to point out that it will be years before a buyer sees a significant return on such an investment. This land has been on offer now for almost six months, and yet you have had only two serious bids, both of which were from local builders. And the reason for that is its location. When it first came on the market, a number of firms were interested, but when they began to add up the costs of transportation of goods and materials to the site, the need to work closely with local authorities, and the added burden of maintaining and developing the other two-thirds over a long period of time, they decided it wasn’t worth it. Which is why, until this morning, you’ve had only two bids. Now all you have is one.”
Bollinger shrugged. “I repeat: If you think for one moment, Mr. Lambert, that we intend to give the land away, you are very much mistaken. My instruction from the—”
“I’m sure that Mr. Lambert is well aware that he cannot expect to take over the land by default, Mr. Chairman,” Vernon broke in quietly. He leaned forward, eyes fixed intently on Lambert’s face. “Please continue. What exactly is your proposal?”
Beside him, Douglas Underwood stirred and began to riffle through the papers in front of him. But Lambert touched his arm and shook his head. Instead, he lifted his own brief -case from beside his chair and set it on the table in front of him. “I have here copies of a proposal which I feel could be beneficial to us all,” he said as he took a stack of slim folders from his briefcase. “If you would be so good as to pass them around.” He distributed them to his right and left, and across the table, then waited until he was satisfied that everyone had a copy.
Bewildered, Underwood scanned his copy and began to feel uneasy.
“In essence,” Lambert continued, “what I am proposing is this: that we deal with the prime land, outlined in red on the fold-out map, as a separate issue. Determine a fair price, bearing in mind the length of time it will take to see a return on investment, then look at the development of the remaining land as a joint venture spread
over a period of fifteen years. One immediate advantage is that you will have the hard-line environmentalists off your back, because I propose to begin immediately a reforestation project, including the ongoing management required until the trees are well established in the area marked on your map in green. I’ve had soil samples taken, and I’m assured that not only can it be done, but it would greatly improve and protect the other areas on your maps. I am prepared to underwrite this project completely, provided the land is turned over to me at the end of that time at a nominal fee of one pound.”
There was a glint of amusement in Vernon’s eyes as he sat back in his seat. “And what do you propose to do with the rest of the land and the administrative buildings, Mr. Lambert?” he asked quietly. “Do you expect to pay only one pound for those, also?”
Lambert smiled. “Not quite,” he said. “What I am proposing is that I lease the land and buildings for the next fifteen years, and be allowed tax concessions for the first five years, during which time I would upgrade the existing buildings and the facilities around them. At the end of the fifteen years, I would receive full title, again for a nominal sum.”
“And what would you do with the buildings during that time?” asked Vernon. ‘If—and I say that reservedly—if we were to consider your proposal, we would insist on retaining the right of approval of any development you might wish to undertake.”
“Of course. But I don’t anticipate opposition to what I have in mind,” Lambert told him soberly. “I propose to bring together a number of small, independent software companies, who are currently scattered around this and adjoining counties. Many of them deal with each other on a regular basis, and while they can conduct business from almost anywhere on the globe, they agree it would be beneficial to be closer together in a quiet environment where the overhead costs are low. I believe I can provide that environment.”
Vernon raised an eyebrow. “Do you see this as another Silicon Valley, Mr. Lambert?” he asked laconically.
Lambert laughed. “Hardly,” he said, “but on the other hand, we
are talking about an industry that has grown exponentially, so who knows?”
“Interesting,” said Vernon. He turned toward the chairman. “Perhaps this would be a good time to have the tea brought in,” he suggested, “after which we can examine some of the details of Mr. Lambert’s proposal.”
“I think it went off rather well, don’t you, Douglas?” Lambert observed. “I suspect there will be a great deal of discussion between the delegation here and their masters in Whitehall this evening, but it’s a promising sign that we are to meet again tomorrow. In fact, I don’t think they have much option. I have no idea who this man Vernon is, but it’s clear to me that he is the power in the room, and if we can convince him, the rest of it will be a piece of cake. They want to be rid of that land, and I think we can take advantage of that.”
Douglas Underwood had remained silent throughout the meeting, but now he could contain himself no longer. “You might have at least told me,” he burst out. “I spent three months sweating my guts out preparing those figures, and it was all for nothing! I felt like an idiot in there. Where did you get all that stuff, anyway? I’d never seen it before.”
Lambert laid a soothing hand on Underwood’s arm. “Let’s just say it was contingency plan,” he said. “Had we been in a serious bidding war with Bolen, we might have used your figures, but when the Bolens decided to withdraw, I thought it worthwhile to try this on for size. But in all honesty, Douglas, if Bolen had not been killed, and had somehow convinced his brother to go along with him, I would have withdrawn our bid and let him take it. We don’t need Ockrington at the price they are asking, but if we can get it on our terms, then we should do very well indeed a few years down the road.”