Authors: Arthur Hailey
Am
sler also recognized the phone number given; it was in the cargo section
at Miami International
.
What the message most likely meant was that an intelligence tip had been
received about an incoming flight carrying contraband-most big Customs
breaks came that way-and Amsler was needed to assist. A need to protect
the intelligence would be the reason for using landline instead of radio
.
He must get to a phone fast
.”
I have been summoned away, Sefior Palacios
,”
he said
.”
Therefore I will
clear your flight now and you may leave
.”
Scribbling to complete the needed paper work, Amsler was unaware of the
suddenly lowered tension and relief, not only of the passengers but of
the pilots. Underhill and Miguel exchanged glances. The pilot, who had
sensed that guns were about to be produced, wondered if he should demand
that they
be turned over to him before takeoff. Then, assessing Miguel and those glacial eyes, he decided to leave well enough alone. There had already been delay and complication. They would take their clearance and go
.
Moments later, as Amsler hurried toward the interior of Hangar One and
a p
hone, he heard the Lerj
et's clamshell door close and the engines
turning over. He was glad to have that minor episode behind him and
wondered what was ahead at Miami International. Would it be the big
,
important opportunity he had waited for so long?
The Learjet 55LR, clear of United States air space and on course for
Sion, Peru, climbed . . . upward, upward . . . through the night.
PART THREE
Within CBA News, Arthur Nalesworth-
urbane, dignified and nowadays known to everyone as Uncle Arthur-had, in his younger years, been a very big wheel. During three decades at the network he worked his way to a series of top appointments, among them vice president of world news coverage, executive producer of the National Evening News,. and executive vice president of the entire News Division. Then his luck changed and, like many before and since, he was shunted to the sidelines at age fifty-six, informed that his days of big responsibility were over and given the choice of early retirement or a minor, makework post
.
Most people faced with those alternatives chose retirement out of pride
.
Arthur Nalesworth, not consumed by self-importance but with a great deal
of eclectic philosophy, chose to keep a job-any job. The network, not
having expected that decision, then had to find him something to do
.
First they made it known he would have the title of vice president
.
As Uncle Arthur himself was apt to tell it later, "Around here we have
three kinds of vice presidents-working veeps who do honest, productive
jobs and earn their keep; headquarters-bureaucrat vice presidents who are
nonproducing but positioned to take the blame for those above them if
anything goes wrong; and 'has-been' vice presidents, now in charge of
paper clips, and I am one of those
.”
Then, if encouraged, he would confide still further, "One thing those of
us who achieve some success in this business
should all prepare for, but most don't, is the day we cease to be important. Near the top of the greasy pole we ought to remind ourselves that sooner than we think we'll be discarded, quickly forgotten, replaced by someone younger and probably better. Of course
”
. . . and here Uncle Arthur liked to quote Tennyson's Ulysses . .
.”
Death closes
all
but something ere the end, Some work of noble note, may yet be done . .
.”
Unexpectedly, after his high-flying days ended, and surprising both the
network and himself, Uncle Arthur found his own "work of noble note
.”
It involved young people, candidates for jobs
.
TV executives found it a nuisance and sometimes a dilemma when asked an
almost identical question by a succession of people-friends, relatives
,
business contacts, politicos, doctors, dentists, optometrists
,
stockbrokers, guests at parties, a list ad infinitum. The question was:
"Will you help my son/daughter/ n
ephew/niece/godchild/pupil/protege
get
a job in television news
?
”
There were days, especially at college graduation time, when it seemed
to those already in the business that an entire generation of young
people was attempting to batter down the gates and enter
.
As to their would-be sponsors, some could be brushed off easily by the
TV executives so approached, but by no means all. Among the
non-brushables were important advertisers or their agencies, members of
CBA's board of directors, Washingtonians having clout at the White House
or on Capitol Hill, other politicians whom it would be foolish to offend
,
important news sources, and many more
.
In BUA days-the initials signifying "Before Uncle Arthur"-CBA executives
would spend more time than they should making phone calls to one another
about vacancies, then attempting to placate those whose sons/daughters
,
et al, simply could not be accommodated
.
But not anymore. Arthur Nalesworth's assignment, created partly out of
desperation by CBA News management, saved his colleagues all of that
trouble
.
Now, when confronted by a job applicant's sponsor, a CBA
big shot could say, "Certainly I'll help. We have a special vice president to deal with bright young people. Tell your candidate to call this number, mention my name, and he (or she) will be given an appointment for an interview
.”
The interview was always given, because Arthur Nalesworth, in the tiny
,
windowless office he had been assigned, interviewed everybody. There had
never been so many job applicant interviews before and all were lengthy
,
lasting an hour, sometimes more. During the interview wide-ranging
questions were asked and answered, confidences exchanged. At the end, the
interviewee left feeling good about CBA even if no job resulted-as was
mostly the case-and Nalesworth was left with a perceptive insight into
the personality and potential of the young person he had faced across his
desk
.
At first the number of interviews and the time they took became a news
department joke, with sardonic references to "time filling
”
and "empire
building
.”
Also, because of Nalesworth's sympathetic encouragement of
every applicant, promising or not, the description "Uncle Arthur
”
was
coined and stuck
.
But gradually a grudging respect replaced the skepticism. It evolved
still further when Uncle Arthur strongly urged employing certain young
people who, when hired, moved quickly and successfully into the news
department's mainstream. In time it became a source of pride, like
possessing a diploma, to have been an Uncle Arthur choice
.
Now, with Uncle Arthur in his sixty-fifth year and normal retirement only
five months away, there was talk among the News Division brass of
pleading with him not to go. Suddenly, to everyone's surprise, Arthur
Nalesworth was important once again
.
Thus, on a Sunday morning in the third week of September, Uncle Arthur
arrived at CBA News headquarters to play his part in the search for
Jessica, Nicholas and Angus Sloane. As instructed by Les Chippingham. on
the telephone the night before, he came to the special task force
conference room where Partridge, Rita and Teddy Cooper were on hand to
greet him
.
The man they met was broad-shouldered and stocky, of
medium height, with a cherubic face and a full head of carefully brushed and parted silver hair. He had an assured, easy manner. Acknowledging that it was not a regular working day, instead of his usual dark suit Uncle Arthur wore a brown Harris tweed jacket, light gray slacks with a knife-edge crease, a bolo tie and highly polished brogues
.
When Uncle Arthur spoke it was with a sonorous, almostChurchillian
delivery. A former colleague once remarked that any opinion Arthur
Nalesworth expressed was as if engraved on tablets of stone
.
After shaking hands with Partridge and Rita and being introduced to
Cooper, Uncle Arthur said, "I understand you need sixty of my brightest
and best-if I can assemble that many at short notice. First, though, I
suggest you tell me what's in the wind
.”
"Teddy will do that
,”
Partridge said. He motioned to Cooper to begin
.
Uncle Arthur listened while the British researcher described the attempts
to identify the kidnappers and the apparent dead end now reached. Cooper
then outlined his idea of searching through newspaper real estate
advertising in an attempt to locate the headquarters the kidnappers might
have used, based on his theory of their renting space within a
twenty-five-mile radius of the crime scene
.
Partridge added, "We know it's a long shot, Arthur, but at the moment
it's the best we have
.”
"My own experience
,”
Uncle Arthur replied, "is that when you have nothing
whatever to proceed on, long shots are the way to go
.”
"I'm glad you think so, sir
,”
Cooper said
.
Uncle Arthur nodded
.”
A thing about long shots is that while you seldom
find exactly what you're looking for, you're likely to stumble over
something else that will help you in a different way
.”
He added, speaking
to Cooper directly, "You'll also find, young man, that among the young
people I'm about to call, some are dynamos, very much like yourself
.”
Cooper accompanied Uncle Arthur to his small office where the older man
spread files and index cards around until they
covered the surface of his desk. He then began telephoning-a steady procession of calls having a common pattern, though each sounding personal and as if a familiar friend were on the line
.”
. . . Well, Ian, you said you wanted an opportunity to get into this
business, no matter how modest, and one has just come up
.”
. .
.”
No
,
Bernard, I cannot guarantee that two weeks' work will lead to something
permanent, but why not take a chance? .. . . . .. Quite so, Pamela, I
agree this temporary job isn't much for a journalism major. Remember
,
though, that some of broadcasting's biggest names began as gofers
.”
.
.
.”
Yes, Howard, you're right in saying five dollars fifty cents an hour
is not a bountiful wage. But if money's your main concern, forget a news
career and head for Wall Street
.”
. .
.”
Felix, I do understand the
timing may not be convenient; it seldom is. If you wish to be a TV news
person you'll have to walk out, if necessary, on your wife's birthday
party ... . .
.”
Don't lose sight of the fact, Erskine, that you'll be
able to put on your r6sum6 you did a special job for CBA
.”
At the end of an hour Uncle Arthur had made twelve calls resulting in
seven "sures
”
who would report for work the following day, plus one
probable. He continued to work patiently through his lists
.
One call made outside his lists by Uncle Arthur was to his long
-
time
friend Professor Kenneth K. Goldstein, associate dean of the Columbia
School of Journalism. When the CBA network problem was explained, the
educator was instantly sympathetic and helpful
.
While both men knew that heavy scholastic pressures made the involvement
of undergraduate students impossible, some graduate students working on
master's degrees in journalism would likely be interested and available
.
So might other recent graduates who had not yet found employment
.”
What we'll do here
,”
the associate dean said, "is rate this an
emergency. I'll do my best to come up with a dozen or so names and will
be back to you later
.”