Kane and Abel/Sons of Fortune Read online

  Kate listened for hours to William’s problems, occasionally offering an understanding comment or a sympathetic reply or chastising him for being overdramatic. Matthew, acting as William’s eyes and ears, reported that the voting would fall, as far as was ascertainable, 50-50, split between those who considered William too young to hold such a responsible post as the chairmanship and those who still held Tony Simmons to blame for the extent of the bank’s losses in 1929. It seemed that most of the nonexecutive members of the board, who had not worked directly with William, would be more influenced by the age difference between the two contenders than by any other single factor. Again and again Matthew heard: “William’s time will come.” Once, tentatively, he played the role of Satan the tempter to William: “With your holdings in the bank, William, you could remove the entire board, replace them with men of your own choosing and get yourself elected chairman.”

  William was only too aware of this route to the top, but he had already dismissed such tactics without needing seriously to consider them; he wished to become chairman solely on his merits. That was, after all, the way his father had achieved the position and it was nothing less than Kate would expect of him.

  On January 2, 1934, Alan Lloyd circulated to every member the notice of a board meeting that would be held on his sixty-fifth birthday, its sole purpose being to elect his successor. As the day for the crucial vote drew nearer, Matthew found himself carrying the investment department almost single-handedly, and Kate found herself feeding them both while they went over the latest state of his campaign again and again. Matthew did not complain once about the extra workload that was placed on him while William spent hours planning his bid to capture the chair. William, conscious that Matthew had nothing to gain by his success, as he would one day take over his father’s bank in New York—a far bigger proposition than Kane and Cabot—hoped a time might come when he could offer Matthew the same unselfish support.

  It was to come sooner than he imagined.

  When Alan Lloyd’s sixty-fifth birthday was celebrated, all seventeen members of the board were present. The meeting was opened by the chairman, who made a farewell speech of only fourteen minutes, which William thought would never come to an end. Tony Simmons was nervously tapping the yellow legal pad in front of him with his pen, occasionally looking up at William. Neither was listening to Alan’s speech. At last Alan sat down, to loud applause, or as loud as is appropriate for sixteen Boston bankers. When the clapping had died away, Alan Lloyd rose for the last time as chairman of Kane and Cabot.

  “And now, gentlemen, we must elect my successor. The board is presented with two outstanding candidates, the director of our overseas division, Mr. Anthony Simmons, and the director of the American investment department, Mr. William Kane. They are both well known to you, gentlemen, and I have no intention of speaking in detail on their respective merits. Instead I have asked each candidate to address the board on how he would see the future of Kane and Cabot were he to be elected chairman.”

  William rose first, as had been agreed between the two contestants the night before on the toss of a coin, and addressed the board for twenty minutes, explaining in detail that it would be his intention to move into fields where the bank had not previously ventured. In particular he wanted to broaden the bank’s base and to get out of a depressed New England, moving close to the center of banking, which he believed was now in New York. He even mentioned the possibility of opening a holding company that might specialize in commercial banking (the heads of some of the older board members shook in disbelief). He wanted the bank to consider more expansion, to challenge the new generation of financiers now leading America and to see Kane and Cabot enter the second half of the twentieth century as one of the largest financial institutions in the United States. When he sat down he was satisfied by the murmurs of approbation; his speech had, on the whole, been well received by the board.

  When Tony Simmons rose, he took a far more conservative line: the bank should consolidate its position for the next few years, moving only into carefully selected areas and sticking to the traditional modes of banking that had given Kane and Cabot the reputation it currently enjoyed. He had learned his lesson during the crash and his main concern, he added—to laughter—was to be certain that Kane and Cabot did enter the second half of the twentieth century at all. Tony spoke prudently and with an authority that William was aware he was too young to match. When Tony sat down, William had no way of knowing in whose favor the board might swing, though he still believed that the majority would be more inclined to opt for expansion rather than standing still.

  Alan Lloyd informed the other directors that neither he nor the two contestants intended to vote. The fourteen voting members received their little ballots, which they duly filled in and passed back to Alan, who, acting as teller, began to count slowly. William found he could not look up from his doodle-covered pad, which also bore the imprint of his sweating hand. When Alan had completed the task of counting, a hush came over the room.

  He announced six votes for Kane, six votes for Simmons, with two abstentions. Whispered conversation broke out among the board members, and Alan called for order. William took a deep and audible breath in the silence that followed.

  Alan Lloyd paused and then said, “I feel that the appropriate course of action given the circumstances is to have a second vote. If any member who abstained on the first ballot finds himself able to support a candidate on this occasion, that might give one of the contestants an overall majority.”

  The little slips were passed out again. William could not bear even to watch the process this time. While members wrote their choices, he listened to the steel-nibbed pens scratching across the voting papers. Once again the ballots were returned to Alan Lloyd. Once again he opened them slowly one by one, and this time he called out the names as he read them.

  “‘William Kane.’

  “‘Anthony Simmons,’ ‘Anthony Simmons,’ ‘Anthony Simmons.’”

  Three votes to one for Tony Simmons.

  “‘William Kane,’ ‘William Kane.’

  “‘Anthony Simmons.’

  “‘William Kane,’ ‘William Kane,’ ‘William Kane.’”

  Six votes to four in favor of William.

  “‘Anthony Simmons,’ ‘Anthony Simmons.’

  “‘William Kane.’

  “‘Seven votes to six in favor of William.”

  It seemed to William, holding his breath, to take Alan Lloyd a lifetime to open the final voting slip.

  “‘Anthony Simmons,’” he declared. “The vote is seven all, gentlemen.”

  William knew that Alan Lloyd would now be obliged to cast the deciding vote, and although he had never told anyone whom he supported for the chair, William had always assumed that if the vote came to a deadlock, Alan would back him against Tony Simmons.

  “As the voting has twice resulted in a dead heat and since I assume that no member of the board is likely to change his mind, I must cast my vote for the candidate whom I feel should succeed me as chairman of Kane and Cabot. I know none of you will envy my position, but I have no alternative except to stand by my own judgment and back the man I feel should be the next chairman of the bank. That man is Tony Simmons.”

  William could not believe the words he heard, and Tony Simmons looked almost as shocked. He rose from his seat opposite William to a round of applause, changed places with Alan Lloyd at the head of the table and addressed Kane and Cabot for the first time as the bank’s new chairman. He thanked the board for its support and praised William for never having used his strong financial and familial position to try to influence the vote. He invited William to be vice chairman of the board and suggested that Matthew Lester should replace Alan Lloyd as a director; both suggestions received unanimous support.

  William sat staring at the portrait of his father, acutely conscious of having failed him.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  Abel stubbed out the Corona for a second time and s