Free Trevayne by Robert Ludlum Page A

guarantees, you restructured seventy percent of your factories—nearly all of your laboratories—to accommodate an uncertain market. Uncertain in the sense of its realistic demand.”
    “We never doubted the market; we only underestimated the demand.”
    “Obviously. And you proved correct. While everyone else was still on the drawing board, you were ready for production.”
    “With respect, Mr. Ambassador, it wasn’t that simple. There was a two-year period when the national commitmentwas more rhetorical than financial. Another six months, and our resources would have been exhausted. We sweated.”
    “You needed the NASA contracts,” said the President. “Without them, you were on dangerous ground; you were in too far to reconvert.”
    “That’s true. We counted on our preparation schedules, our timing. No one could compete with us; we banked on that.”
    “But the extent of your conversions was known within the industry, wasn’t it?” asked Hill.
    “Unavoidable.”
    “And the risks?” Hill again.
    “To a degree. We were a privately owned company; we didn’t broadcast our financial statement.”
    “But it could be assumed.” Hill was centering in.
    “It could.”
    Hill removed a single sheet of paper from the top of the file, turning its face toward Andrew. “Do you recall this letter? It was written to the Secretary of Defense, with copies to the Senate Appropriations and House Armed Services committees. Dated April 14, 1959.”
    “Yes. I was angry.”
    “In it you stated categorically that Pace-Trevayne was wholly owned and in no way associated with any other company or companies.”
    “That’s right.”
    “When questioned privately, you said you’d been approached by outside interests who implied that their assistance might be necessary to obtain the NASA contracts.”
    “Yes. I was upset. We were qualified on our own.”
    Ambassador Hill leaned back and smiled. “This letter, then, was really a highly strategic device, wasn’t it? You scared hell out of a lot of people. In essence, it assured you of the work.”
    “That possibility occurred to me.”
    “Yet in spite of your proclaimed independence, during the next several years, when Pace-Trevayne became the acknowledged leader in its field, you actively sought outside associations.…”
    Do you remember, Phyl? You and Doug were furious. You didn’t understand
.
    “There were advantages to be gained.”
    “I’m sure there were, if you had been serious in your intentions.”
    “Are you implying that I wasn’t?”
    Oh, Lord, I was serious, Phyl! I was concerned. I was young and angry
.
    “I arrived at that conclusion, Mr. Trevayne. I’m sure others did also.… You let the word out that you’d be interested in exploratory talks of merger. One by one you held successive conferences with no less than seventeen major defense contractors over a three-year period. A number of these were written up in the newspapers.” Hill flipped through the file and removed a sheaf of clippings. “You certainly had an impressive assortment of suitors.”
    “We had a great deal to offer.”
    Only “offer,” Phyl. Nothing else; never anything else
.
    “You even went so far as to arrive at tentative agreements with several. There were a number of startling fluctuations on the New York Exchange.”
    “My accountants will confirm that I was not in the market then.”
    “With reason?” asked the President.
    “With reason,” answered Trevayne.
    “Yet none of the exploratory conferences, none of these tentative agreements, was ever satisfactorily concluded.”
    “The obstacles were insurmountable.”
    The people were insurmountable. The manipulators
.
    “May I suggest, Mr. Trevayne, that you never intended to reach any firm agreements?”
    “You may suggest that, Mr. Ambassador.”
    “And would it be inaccurate to suggest further that you gained a relatively detailed working knowledge of the financial operations of seventeen major