There were no questions, not least because everyone around that table knew only too well what the first item on the agenda was.
“Item number one is the selection of a new chairman,” said Alex as the door opened and Evelyn burst into the room. Alex cursed as he looked at the woman who’d so captivated him when they’d first met. He could see why men fell so completely under her spell, if only for a short time. Jardine and Ackroyd both rose to greet her, and she took the empty place between
them.
“I apologize for being late,” said Evelyn, “but I needed to consult my lawyer on a personal matter before I attended the meeting.”
Which lawyer, Alex wondered, and what personal matter?
“I was about to invite nominations for the post of chairman,” said Fowler, “following the tragic death of your brother.”
Evelyn nodded. “Please don’t let me hold you up,” she said, smiling warmly at the company secretary.
Mr. Jardine was quickly back on his feet. “I’d like to place on record my admiration for the way Mr. Karpenko has temporarily filled the gap while we looked for a more suitably qualified candidate to be our next chairman. I believe that, for the long-term future of the company, that person is Doug Ackroyd. We will all recall what an outstanding job he did as the bank’s CEO.”
“Almost brought the company to its knees,” muttered Bob Underwood, loudly enough for his fellow board members to hear.
Jardine ignored the sotto voce interruption and plowed on. “I therefore have no hesitation in proposing our former CEO, Mr. Douglas Ackroyd, to be the next chairman of Lowell’s Bank.”
“Do we have a seconder?” asked Fowler.
“I shall be delighted to second the nomination,” said Alan Gates, coming in bang on cue.
“Another of the fifty-thousand-dollar-a-year expenses brigade,” said Underwood, “making sure the gravy train rolls on in perpetuity.”
“Thank you,” said Fowler. “If there are no further nominations, all that is left for me to do is call for a vote. Those in favor of Mr. Doug Ackroyd being elected as our next chairman, please raise your hands.”
Six hands were raised.
“On a point of order, Mr. Chairman.” The well-organized juggernaut suddenly ground to an unscheduled halt. “I feel I should point out,” said Underwood, “that under standing order 7.9 of the bank’s statutes, no one standing for the position of chairman can vote for himself.”
Alex smiled. Clearly Harbottle wasn’t the only person who’d been burning the midnight oil. There was some muttering among the board members while Fowler looked up that particular standing order.
“That appears to be correct,” he eventually managed.
“Well, what do you know?” said Underwood. “Our founding fathers weren’t that stupid after all.”
“However,” said Fowler, “Mr. Ackroyd still has five votes. I will now ask if anyone wishes to vote against?”
Five directors immediately raised their hands.
“Any abstentions?”
“Only me,” said Evelyn, in her most innocent voice.
Ackroyd was baffled, while Alex couldn’t hide his surprise.
“Then the vote is five each, with one abstention,” said Fowler.
“So what do we do now?” asked Tom Rhodes, a director who rarely spoke.
“I suggest Mr. Fowler reads standing order 7.10,” said Underwood, “and we just might find out.”
Fowler reluctantly turned the page and read out, “In the event of a tie, the chairman will have the casting vote.”
Everyone turned to face Alex, who didn’t hesitate before saying, “Against.” Even louder muttering broke out among the board members.
It was some time before Fowler, after once again checking the standing orders, asked, “Are there any other nominations?”