“First of all, I doubt if she really knows a damn thing about the newspaper business. Have you looked at what she’s done to the other papers she bought? She’s turned respectable newspapers into cheap tabloids. She’ll destroy the Tribune. She’s—” He looked up. Leslie Chambers was standing in the doorway, listening.
Margaret Portman spoke up. “Leslie! How nice to see you. This is Matt Baker, our editor in chief of Tribune Enterprises.”
They exchanged cool greetings.
“Matt is going to show you around.”
“I’m looking forward to it.”
Matt Baker took a deep breath. “Right. Let’s get started.”
At the beginning of the tour, Matt Baker said con-descendingly, “The structure is like this: At the top is the editor in chief—”
“That would be you, Mr. Baker.”
“Right. And under me, the managing editor and the editorial staff. That includes Metro, National, Foreign, Sports, Business, Life and Style, People, Calendar, Books, Real Estate, Travel, Food… I’m probably leaving a few out.”
“Amazing. How many employees does Washington Tribune Enterprises have, Mr. Baker?”
“Over five thousand.”
They passed a copy desk. “Here’s where the news editor lays out the pages. He’s the one who decides where the photos are going to go and which stories appear on which pages. The copy desk writes the headlines, edits the stories, and then puts them together in the composing room.”
“Fascinating.”
“Are you interested in seeing the printing plants?”
“Oh, yes. I’d like to see everything.”
He mumbled something under his breath.
“I’m sorry?”
“I said, ‘Fine.’”
They took the elevator down and walked over to the next building. The printing plant was four stories high and the size of four football fields. Everything in the huge space was automated. There were thirty robot carts in the building, carrying enormous rolls of paper that they dropped off at various stations.
Baker explained, “Each roll of paper weighs about twenty-five hundred pounds. If you unrolled one, it would be eight miles long. The paper goes through the presses at twenty-one miles an hour. Some of the bigger carts can carry sixteen rolls at once.”
There were six presses, three on each side of the room. Leslie and Matt Baker stood there and watched as the newspapers were automatically assembled, cut, folded, put into bales, and delivered to the trucks waiting to carry them off.
“In the old days it took about thirty men to do what one man can do today,” Matt Baker said. “The age of technology.”
Leslie looked at him a moment. “The age of downsizing.”
“I don’t know if you’re interested in the economics of the operation?” Matt Baker asked dryly. “Perhaps you’d prefer your lawyer or accountant to—”
“I’m very interested, Mr. Baker. Your editorial budget is fifteen million dollars. Your daily circulation is eight hundred and sixteen thousand, four hundred and seventy-four, and one million, one hundred and forty thousand, four hundred and ninety-eight on Sunday, and your advertising is sixty-eight point two.”
Matt looked at her and blinked.
“With the ownership of all your newspapers, your daily circulation is over two million, with two million four Sunday circulation. Of course, that’s not the largest paper in the world, is it, Mr. Baker? Two of the largest newspapers in the world are printed in London. The Sun is the biggest, with a circulation of four million daily. The Daily Mirror sells over three million.”
He took a deep breath. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize you—”
“In Japan, there are over two hundred dailies, including Asahi Shimbun, Mainchi Shimbun, and Yomiuri Shimbun. Do you follow me?”
“Yes. I apologize if I seemed patronizing.”
“Accepted, Mr. Baker. Let’s go back to Mrs. Portman’s office.”
The next morning, Leslie was in the executive conference room of the Washington Tribune, facing Mrs. Portman and half a dozen attorneys.
“Let’s talk about price,” Leslie said. The discussion lasted four hours, and when it was over, Leslie Stewart Chambers was the owner of Washington Tribune Enterprises.
It was more expensive than Leslie had anticipated. It did not matter.
There was something more important.
The day the deal was finalized, Leslie sent for Matt Baker. “What are your plans?” Leslie asked.
“I’m leaving.”
She looked at him curiously. “Why?”