My workday didn’t end at five o’clock. Never does. It didn’t even end after I had ushered out the last of my dinner guests from my home in Larchmont. While the caterer’s people cleaned up the kitchen and my wife headed upstairs for bed and her latest romance novel, I went to my study, checked the nautical clock on my desk, and phoned Tokyo.
I had to go through several secretaries and underlings, of course. They all seemed shocked that the CEO of Omnitech Corporation was putting through this call himself, with no flunkies doing the up-front work for him. What the hell? I didn’t want anybody listening in to this conversation; nobody on my side, leastways. So I sat on the edge of my desk and waited with the cordless phone clamped to my ear. Looking out through the den’s windows at the darkened water of Long Island Sound, I wondered when the hell I would ever get the chance to sail the ketch before I had to pull the boat out of the water for the winter. Two million bucks for that beauty and she sits at the end of the pier like a goddamned monument.
Finally a man’s voice said, “Mr. Nakata will speak to you now, sir.” Perfect English, no accent at all.
“Mr. Johnston, what a pleasure to have you call.” Ichiro Nakata’s voice sounded crisp and friendly.
“It’s good of you to take the time to speak with me,” I said, feeling relieved that he actually accepted my call. I went around my desk and dropped into my big leather swivel chair.
“It must be close to midnight in New York,” said Nakata.
“No rest for the wicked.”
Nakata laughed.
“I see that Kyushu Industries is doing very well,” I said. “Your stock continues to climb.” The compulsory flattery bit.
There was a barely noticeable delay as our words were relayed to a communications satellite and back again. “We have been very fortunate,” Nakata said. “Our people work very hard to make us successful.”
A dig at American workers. I let it pass. “Success begins with good leadership. You are to be congratulated.” There! I can sling the shit with any of these oh-so-polite slopes.
“I understand that Omnitech is also quite successful,” Nakata replied.
“We’re keeping our heads above the water.”
Again the annoying little delay. Then Nakata said, “I remember with great fondness your visit to Japan last year. Perhaps I will visit America this winter.”
“Great! I’d like to show you some of our facilities and return the wonderful hospitality you showed me.” But I was thinking, Fucking Nip wants to steal whatever he can grab from us.
“That would be most enjoyable.”
“You know,” I said, easing into the reason why I had made the call, “Omnitech is doing so well that we’ve become attractive to other corporations.”
The delay was longer than normal this time. Finally Nakata said, “I have heard rumors that a European consortium is interested in buying your company.”
“Our board is not interested in selling.”
“Oh so? Do you expect a hostile takeover attempt?”
This time I hesitated just a little bit before answering. “Could be.”
“That could drive up the price of your stock. You could make a considerable fortune.”
“A wise investor might buy a block of our stock now,” I told him, “and do very well for himself over the next few months.”
Nakata said, “That would remove a block of stock from the Europeans’ grasp.”
“Yes, it would.”
“From my slight understanding of your company’s position, you seem to be somewhat vulnerable to a takeover.”
“Somewhat,” I admitted.
Nakata said nothing. I waited as long as I could, but the Jap kept silent.
Finally, I said, “It would help if we were in a better financial position. I’m thinking of getting rid of some of our less profitable divisions, consolidate, tighten the ship all the way up and down the line.”
“Always a wise strategy.”
“If I can sell off a couple of our divisions it’ll improve our cash flow, as well.”
“Yes, of course.”
The bastard’s going to make me ask him, I fumed to myself. “I thought I would give you the first opportunity to consider buying one of our divisions.”
The delay, then, “I see. But there is a difficulty. Why would someone wish to buy a division that is not profitable?”
He’s interested! I bounced so hard in my chair I made it creak. “Well, some of our divisions are heavily engaged in research, you know. They don’t make a profit, but they produce the new product lines that make profits for our other divisions.”
“Ahhh. And which divisions might those be?”
“Well, there’s our Tulsa Aerospace Division. They’ve been involved in developing new lightweight materials for airplanes and rockets . . .” I went on and mentioned three other Omnitech divisions.
Before I could finish, though, Nakata broke in, “And what of your Grenford Laboratory? Are you considering selling it?”
I acted surprised. “Grenford? No. We couldn’t sell Grenford Lab. Why, it’s the future of our corporation.”
“It is very good to see an American executive who thinks about the future. You are not afflicted with the notorious ninety-day syndrome.”
“I learned a lot from my visit to Japan,” I replied. I knew how to butter up people, too. “We have five-, ten-, and twenty-year plans now, just as you do.” But they’re not worth the paper they’re written on unless we show a profit every goddamned quarter, I thought.
“It might be possible,” Nakata said slowly, cautiously, “for us to acquire Grenford Laboratory and then license all the discoveries they make to Omnitech for a nominal fee.”
“License their discoveries to us?”
“You could have license to market their products in North America. We would have what remains of the global market.”
“I don’t think my board would go for that.”
“Perhaps not. It was merely a thought.”
“Although,” I said, leaning back in my chair, “if the price for Grenford was right, it sure would help our cash position.”
“And help you to stave off the greedy Europeans.”
“Tell you what,” I said briskly. “I’ll bounce the idea off a few of my board members. Privately, of course. Get their reaction. Then I’ll get back to you.”
“Very good. In the meantime, I will ask my financial people to make an assessment of Grenford’s worth.”
“Fine. I’ll call you in a few days.”
“I will anticipate your call with great pleasure.”
I’ll bet you will, I thought as I put the phone down. I heaved a big sigh. Well, it’s done. Nakata’s hot to trot, that comes through clear enough. Hate to sell Grenford to him, but that’s better than having those fucking Krauts and Frenchmen take over the whole corporation.
Then I thought of Arthur Marshak. Arthur. He comes up with brilliant ideas, but we can’t afford ’em right now. He won’t mind working for the Japs. As long as he can do his research he really doesn’t mind who the hell is paying his salary.
That’s what I told myself.