Book Read Free

Evening News

Page 36

by Arthur Hailey


  "I don't want to seem stuffy either,” Jaeger put in.”But in that, I'm with Harry.”

  "There's one other thing,” Owens said, "and that's the FBI. By withholding this from them, we could be in trouble.”

  "I've thought about that,” Partridge acknowledged, "and decided to take our chances. If that bothers any of you, I'll remind you I'm the one responsible. The thing is, if we tell the FBI, we know from experience they're as likely as not to discuss it with other news people, then we'll have blown our exclusive that way.”

  "Coming back to the main issue,” Rita said, "there are precedents for what we'd be doing. I remember one at ABC.”

  Iris prompted, "So tell us.”

  "You recall the TWA hijack—Beirut, 1985?”

  The others nodded, reminded that during the mid-1980s Rita had worked for ABC News; also that the hijacking was a terrorist outrage, holding world attention for two weeks during which a U.S. Navy diver, a passenger aboard TWA Flight 847, was savagely murdered.

  ”Almost from the beginning of that hijack,” Rita said, "we knew at ABC that there were three American servicemen aboard that plane, in civilian clothes, and we believed we had the information exclusively. The question was: Should we use it on the air? Well, we never did, believing that if we did, the hijackers would learn of it and those servicemen would be as good as dead. In the end the terrorists found out themselves but we always hoped, because of doing the decent thing, we helped two of those three survive.”

  "Okay,” Iris said, "I suppose I go along. Though if no one's used the story by tomorrow, I suggest we take another look.”

  "I'll buy that,” Owens agreed, and the discussion ended.

  However, because of its importance Partridge decided to share his decision with Les Chippingham and Chuck Insen.

  The news president, who received Partridge in his paneled office, merely shrugged when told, and commented, "You're the one making task force decisions, Harry; if we didn't trust your judgment you wouldn't be there. Thanks for telling me, though."

  The National Evening News executive producer was in his presiding seat at the Horseshoe. As he listened, Insen's eyes brightened. At the end he nodded.”Interesting, Harry; nice piece of research. When you give it to us, we'll run it top of the show. But not until you say so.”

  Which left Partridge free to resume telephoning and he settled down in his temporary private office.

  Once more he had his blue book of names and phone numbers, but unlike last week when his calls were directed mainly at U.S. sources today Partridge tried to reach contacts in Colombia and the countries immediately adjoining—Venezuela, Brazil, Ecuador, Panama and Peru—plus Nicaragua. In all those places, from where he had frequently reported for CBA News, there were people he knew who had helped him, and for some of whom he had done return favors.

  Something else different today was having the positive Rodriguez lead, which translated into a double-barreled question: Do you know of a terrorist named Ulises Rodriguez,— if so, have you any idea where he is or what he's reputed to be doing?

  Although Karl Owens had talked on Friday with Latin American contacts, as far as Partridge could tell there was no overlapping—a fact not surprising since producers as well as correspondents cultivated their own sources and, once they had them, kept them to themselves.

  Today, responses to the first part of the question posed were almost entirely "yes” and to the second portion, "no.” Confirming Owens's earlier report, Rodriguez seemed to have disappeared from sight three months ago and had not been seen since. An interesting point, though, emerged from a conversation with a long time Colombian friend, a radio news reporter in Bogota.

  ”Wherever he is,” the broadcaster said, "I'd almost guarantee it isn't this country. He's a Colombian after all, and even though he stays out of reach of the law, he's too well known to be in his home territory for long without word getting around. So my bet is, he's somewhere else.” The conclusion made sense.

  One country Partridge had suspicions about was Nicaragua, where the Sandinistas, despite an election defeat, were still a strong presence and continued their long antagonism to the United States. Could they be involved in some way with the kidnapping, hoping to gain from it an advantage yet to be disclosed? The question didn't make a lot of sense, but neither did much else. However, a half-dozen calls to the capital, Managua, produced a consensus that Ulises Rodriguez was not in Nicaragua, nor had he been there.

  Then there was Peru. Partridge made several calls to that country and one conversation in particular left him wondering.

  He had spoken with another old acquaintance, Manuel Leon Seminario, owner-editor of the weekly magazine Escena, published in Lima.

  After Partridge announced his name, Serninario had come on the line at once. His greeting was in impeccable English and Partridge could picture him—slight and dapper, fashionably and fastidiously dressed.”Well, well, my dear Harry. How excellent to hear from you! And where are you? In Lima, I hope.”

  When informed that the call was from New York, the owner-editor expressed disappointment.”For a moment I hoped we might have lunch tomorrow at La Pizzeria. The food, I assure you, is as good as ever. So why not hop on a plane and come?”

  "I'd love to, Manuel. Unfortunately I'm up to my eyebrows in important work.” Partridge explained his role in the Sloane kidnap task force.

  ”My god! I should have realized you'd be involved. That's a terrible thing. We've followed the situation closely and we'll have a full-page piece in this week's issue. Is there anything new we should include?”

  "There is something new,” Partridge said, "and it's the reason I'm calling. But for now we're keeping it under wraps, so I'd appreciate this talk being off the record.”

  "Well . . .” The response was cautious.”As long as it's not information we possess already.”

  "We can trust each other, Manuel. On the basis you just said—okay?”

  "With that understanding, okay.”

  "We have reason to believe that Ulises Rodriguez is involved.”

  There was a silence before the magazine man said softly, "You are speaking of bad company, Harry. Around here that name is a nasty, feared word.”

  "Why feared?”

  "The man is suspected of masterminding kidnappings, skulking in and out of Peru from Colombia for employment by others here. It is a way our criminal—revolutionary elements work. As you know, in Peru nowadays kidnapping is almost a way of life. Well-to-do businessmen or their families are favorite targets. Many of us employ guards and drive protected cars, hoping to forestall it.”

  "I did know that,” Partridge said.”But until this moment I'd forgotten.”

  Seminario sighed audibly, "You are not alone, my friend. The Western press attention to Peru is spotty, to put it kindly. As to your TV news, we might as well not exist.”

  Partridge knew the statement held some truth. He was never sure why, but Americans seldom took the same continuing interest in Peru that they did in other countries. Aloud he said, "Have you heard any talk of Rodriguez being in Peru, perhaps right now, or recently working for anyone there?”

  "Well . . . no.”

  “Did I sense some hesitation?”

  "Not about Rodriguez. I have not heard anything, Harry. I would tell you if I had.”

  "What then?”

  "Everything here, on what I call the criminal-revolutionary front, has been strangely quiet for several weeks. Scarcely anything happening. Nothing of significance.”

  "So?”

  "I have seen the signs before and I believe they are unique to Peru. When things are quietest it often means something big is about to happen. Usually unpleasant and of a nature unexpected.”

  Seminario's voice changed tempo, becoming businesslike.”My dear Harry, it has been a pleasure talking to you and I am glad you called. But Escena will not edit itself and I must go. Do come to see me soon in Lima, and remember: Lunch at La Pizzeria—a standing invitation.”

&n
bsp; Through the remainder of the day the words kept coming back to Partridge: "When things are quietest it often means something big is about to happen.”

  6

  Coincidentally, on the same day Harry Partridge talked with the owner-editor of Escena, Peru was discussed at an ultra private, top-echelon meeting of CBA network's corporate owners, Globanic Industries Inc. The meeting was a twice yearly, three-day "policy workshop” chaired by the conglomerate's chairman and chief executive officer, Theodore Elliott. Attendance was confined to other CEO's—those of Globanic's nine subsidiaries, all major companies themselves, most with their own ancillaries.

  At such meetings corporate confidences were exchanged and secret plans revealed, some capable of making or breaking competitors, investors and markets around the world. However, no written agenda or minutes of the biannual parleys ever existed. Security was strict and each day, before proceedings began, the meeting room was electronically swept for bugs.

  Outside the meeting, but never in it, were support staffs of aides—a half dozen or so for each subsidiary company—poised to provide data or briefings that their various chiefs might need.

  The locale of the meetings seldom varied. On this occasion, as on most others, it was at the Fordly Cay Club near Nassau in the Bahamas.

  Fordly Cay, one of the world's most exclusive private clubs, with a resort facility including a yacht harbor, golf course, tennis courts and white-sand beaches, occasionally allowed special VIP groups the expensive use of its facilities. Larger conventions were verboten; sales meetings, as far as Fordly Cay was concerned, did not exist.

  Ordinary membership in the club was hard to come by; a waiting list caused many aspirants to linger for long periods, some in vain. Theodore Elliott was a recent member, though approval of his application had taken two years.

  The day before, when everyone arrived, Elliott had been proprietorial, especially welcoming Globanic spouses who would appear only at social, tennis, golfing and sailing breaks. Today the first morning meeting was in a small, comfortable library with deep rattan chairs upholstered in beige leather, and wall-to-wall patterned carpeting. Between book-lined walls, softly lit cases held silver sporting trophies. Above a fireplace— seldom used—a portrait of the club's founder beamed down on the select small group.

  Elliott was appropriately dressed in white slacks and a light-blue polo shirt, the latter bearing the club crest—a quartered shield with palm tree rampant, engrailed crossed tennis racquets, golf clubs and a yacht, all on waves of the sea. With or without such accoutrements, Theo Elliott was classically handsome—tall, lean, broad shouldered, with a strong jaw and a full head of hair, now totally white. Ile hair was a reminder that in two years' time the chairman-in-chief would reach retirement age and be succeeded, almost certainly, by one of the others present.

  Allowing for the fact that some heads of companies were too old to be eligible, there were three strong candidates. Margot Lloyd-Mason was one.

  Margot was conscious of this as she reported early in the proceedings on the state of CBA.

  Speaking precisely, she disclosed that since Globanic Industries' acquisition of CBA television and radio network and affiliated stations, strict financial controls had been introduced, budgets pared and redundant personnel dismissed. As a result, third-quarter profits would be up twenty-two percent compared with the pre-Globanic year before.

  ”That's a fair beginning,” Theodore Elliott commented, "though we'll expect even better in future.” There were confirming nods from others in the room.

  Margot had dressed carefully today, not wanting to appear too feminine, yet at the same time not wishing to lose the advantage of her sex. At first she considered wearing a tailored suit, as she often did in her office at Stonehenge, but decided it was inappropriate in the semi tropics. In the end she chose beige linen slacks and a cotton sweater in a soft peach shade. The outfit emphasized her well-proportioned body, a judgment confirmed by lingering glances from some of the men.

  Continuing her report, Margot mentioned the recent kidnapping of the Crawford Sloane family.

  The chairman of International Forest Products, a hard driving Oregonian named DeWitt, injected, "That's too bad and we all hope they catch those people. Just the same, your network's getting a lot of attention from it.”

  "So much attention,” Margot informed him, "that our National Evening News ratings have soared from 9.2 to 12.1 within the past five days, which means an additional six million viewers and puts us strongly in front as number one. It's also raised the rating of our daily game show, carried by our five owned and operated stations immediately after the news. And the same is true of our prime-time shows, especially the Ben Largo Show on Friday which went from 22.5 to 25.9. The sponsors all around are delighted; as a result we're pushing hard with next season's advertising.”

  Someone asked, "Does that spread of good ratings mean most people don't change channels?” The question reminded Margot that even among this exalted group there was an inherent fascination with the minutiae of broadcasting.

  ”Networks know from experience that if viewers tune in to the evening news the odds are they will stay with that network for the next ninety minutes, sometimes more. At the same time, others join the audience.”

  "So it's an ill wind . . . as the old saying goes,” the forest products chief said, smiling. Margot smiled back.”Since we're here in private I'll agree, though please don't quote me.”

  "No one quotes anybody,” Theo Elliott said.”Privacy and truth are why we hold these sessions.”

  "Speaking of your advertisers, Margot.” The voice belonged to Leon Ironwood of West World Aviation, a tanned, athletic Californian and another of the three contenders to be Elliott's successor. The company Ironwood headed was a successful defense contractor making fighter airplanes.”What's the latest on that ongoing problem of video recording machines? How many households have them anyway?”

  "About fifty percent,” Margot acknowledged, "and you're right about the problem. Most of those who record network programs later zip through commercials without watching, thereby diminishing our advertising effectiveness.”

  Ironwood nodded.”Especially since VCR owners represent an affluent population group. It's how I watch TV.”

  Someone else added, "And don't forget mute buttons. I use mine whenever there's a commercial.”

  "The truth is,” Margot said, "the whole VCR and mute problems are like permanent storm clouds over us, which is why networks have dragged their feet in researching their effects. There could have been a measuring technique long ago, except we don't want to know the bad news, and in that we have an ally—advertising agencies who fear that knowledge would turn off big advertisers, depriving the agencies of enormous business.”

  "I'm sure,” Elliott prompted, "that your fiscal planning has taken that into account.”

  "It has, Theo. Looking ahead and accepting that network advertising money will diminish, we're seeking additional revenue sources, and it's why CBA and others have quietly bought up TV cable operators and will acquire more. The networks have the capital and one day soon cable TV may wake up to find itself almost entirely owned by broadcast networks. At the same time, we're exploring joint-venture agreements with the phone companies.”

  "Joint venture?” Ironwood asked

  "I'll explain. First, accept the fact that terrestrial broadcasting—over-the-air television—is near the end of its useful life. Within ten to fifteen years about the only place you'll find an old-fashioned TV antenna is the Smithsonian; also by then, TV stations will have abandoned their conventional transmitters as uneconomic.”

  "With cable and satellite dishes taking over?”

  "Partly, but not entirely.” Margot smiled. She was dealing with a familiar subject as well as demonstrating, she hoped, her own farsightedness.

  ”The next thing to realize,” she continued, "is that there is no important future in this business for cable operators alone. To survive, they must poo
l resources—and so shall we—with the telephone people whose lines already go into every home.”

  Several nodded approvingly as Margot declared, "The technology for a combination phone and TV line, using fiber-optic cable, is available now. It's simply a matter of getting the system working, which includes a network like ours developing specialized cable programming. The potential revenues are enormous.”

  "Aren't there government restrictions,” Ironwood asked, "on phone companies entering the broadcast business?”

  "Restrictions which the Congress will change. We're working on that; in fact legislation has been drafted.”

  "And you're convinced Congress will go along?”

  Theo Elliott laughed.”If she is, it's with good reason. I assume most of us here have read the book The Best Congress Money Can Buy. If not, it's must reading for people like ourselves . . . What's the author's name?”

  "Philip Stern,” Margot said.

  ”Right. Well, just the way Stem described, Globanic Industries contributes handsomely to every Political Action Committee affecting our concerns, which means congressional votes are bought and ready when we need them. When Margot wants those regulations changed, she can let me know. I'll pass the word.”

  "There's talk of abolishing the PAC system,” DeWitt said.

  ”And that's all it is—talk,” Elliott responded.”Besides, even if the name is changed, you can be sure those in Congress will find some other way to do exactly what they're doing now.”

  The forthright, off-the-record talk continued. However, the subject of the Sloane family kidnapping was not brought up again.

  Late in the morning it was the turn of K. Phocis ("Fossie") Xenos, chairman of Globanic Financial Services, to address his fellow CEO's.

  Three years earlier Tri-Trade Financial Services, as it was then, was a consumer credit enterprise making loans to middleclass Americans from a chain of storefront offices; it also sold life and casualty insurance. Globanic then bought out TriTrade, Theo Elliott seeing it as a ready-made base—much simpler than starting a new company—for attracting international investors seeking entrepreneurial risk and glamour. He put Fossie Xenos in charge—a young second-generation Greek-American with an MBA degree from Wharton, who had come to Elliott's attention through some artful investment-bank maneuvers.

 

‹ Prev