Free The Burma Legacy by Geoffrey Archer Page A

TV cameras facing the platform. He found a seat to the side, squeezing in between two tensely expectant Japanese reporters.
    At precisely twelve o’clock a flustered PR girl walked onto the podium to announce a delay. Mr Kamata’s party was stuck in traffic but would be here shortly. When she stepped down again, the reporters each side of Sam spoke across him in Japanese.
    At the back of the room TV producers paced, phones clamped between head and shoulder, reporting the bad news to their lunchtime bulletins. Time slots allocated to this story would need filling with something else if Kamata didn’t show in time. Sam studied faces, fearing that by some dreadful coincidence he might stumble across the press man who’d ambushed him fifteen months ago.
    At twenty past the hour the PR girl reappeared to announce the imminent arrival of Mr Kamata. The TV people switched on their cameras and the elderly saviour of the Walsall motor factory was ushered through the throng by a quartet of aides. He was tallfor a Japanese, and for an octogenarian remarkably straight-backed. Sam watched him take his seat, studying this face that had haunted Peregrine Harrison’s dreams, while trying to picture him fifty-six years ago in drab jungle fatigues. Kamata displayed signs of nervousness. Sam guessed he’d been warned of the viciousness of the British media.
    The table was draped in the red, white and gold of the Matsubara logo. On Kamata’s right sat a much younger Japanese. The name card described him as the company’s Development Director. To the chairman’s left sat a slick-haired Englishman who stood up and introduced himself as the chairman of Brassinger-Mulholland Public Relations.
    ‘Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to this press conference. On behalf of the Matsubara Corporation I’d like to apologise for the late start, particularly to those with imminent deadlines.’ He attempted a mollifying smile. ‘First, I’d like to read a brief statement. Afterwards Mr Tetsuo Kamata, the chairman of Matsubara, will take questions. His answers will be given in Japanese and will be translated for you by his interpreter, Miss Kimura, who is seated at the end of this table.’
    He indicated an attractive young woman dressed in a smart, dark suit, wearing oval designer spectacles, with a pearl necklace round her slender neck. She bowed her head.
    Clearing his throat and glancing at the cameras, the spokesman began. ‘The Matsubara Corporation is pleased to have signed a Memorandum of Understanding this morning with the Walsall Motor Group.It is the company’s intention to complete the purchase of the plant and assets as soon as possible, so work can begin on adapting the factory to produce Matsubara cars in the UK. It is also the company’s intention to re-employ as many as possible of the Walsall Motors workforce and to keep redundancies to a minimum. The signing of the MoU today means Matsubara can now have privileged access to the group’s accounts and business records, a full examination of which will be necessary before the purchase of the company can be completed. Matsubara believes it can produce cars profitably in the UK, selling them both here and elsewhere in the European economic zone.’
    Sam stared at Matsubara’s Development Director looking for any sign of the disagreement he undoubtedly felt. The expressionless face gave nothing away.
    ‘Matsubara’s chairman, Mr Tetsuo Kamata …’ the PR man nodded deferentially to the tense figure beside him, ‘… wishes me to state that he is particularly pleased to be forming this new bridge of friendship between Japan and Britain, which he hopes will be of real benefit to very many people in this country. Mr Kamata is now ready to answer a few questions.’
    The PR man looked round, trying to identify who would be gentlest with his client. Hands shot up.
    ‘The time available is strictly limited, so please keep your questions brief and to the point.’ He aimed a finger at