Read Online The Best Laid Plans by Sidney Sheldon - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Sidney Sheldon
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rise.
The reduction in the price of the newspaper and in the cost of advertising was attractive, but what made the circulation of the Sun move up was the giveaway contest. It ran for twelve weeks, and entrants had to compete every week. The prizes were cruises to the South Seas and trips to London and Paris and Rio. As the prizes were handed out and publicized with front-page photographs of the winners, the circulation of the Sun began to explode.
"You took a hell of a gamble," Craig McAllister said grudgingly, "but it's working."
"It wasn't a gamble," Leslie said. "People can't resist getting something for nothing."
When Walt Meriwether was handed the latest circulation figures, he was furious. For the first time in years, the Sun was ahead of the Chronicle.
"All right," Meriwether said grimly. "Two can play that stupid game. I want you to cut our advertising rates and start some kind of contest."
But it was too late. Eleven months after Leslie had bought the Sun, Walt Meriwether came to see her.
"I'm selling out," he said curtly. "Do you want to buy the Chronicle?"
"Yes."
The day the contract for the Chronicle was signed, Leslie called in her staff.
"Starting Monday," she said, "we raise the price of the Sun, double our advertising rates, and stop the contest."
One month later, Leslie said to Craig McAllister, "The Evening Standard in Detroit is up for sale. It owns a television station, too. I think we should make a deal." McAllister protested. "Mrs. Chambers, we don't know anything about television, and " "Then we'll have to learn, won't we?" The empire Leslie needed was beginning to build.
Six.
Oliver's days were full, and he loved every minute of what he was doing. There were political appointments to be made, legislation to be put forward, appropriations to be approved, meetings and speeches and press interviews. The State Journal in Frankfort, the Herald-Leader in Lexington, and the Louisville Courier-Journal gave him glowing reports He was earning the reputation of being a governor who got things done Oliver was swept up in the social life of the super wealthy and he knew that a large part of that was because he was married to the daughter of Senator Todd Davis.
Oliver enjoyed living in Frankfort. It was a lovely, historic city nestled in a scenic river valley among the rolling hills of Kentucky fabled bluegrass region. He wondered what it would be like to live in Washington, D. C.
The busy days merged into weeks, and the weeks merged into months Oliver began the last year of his term.
Oliver had made Peter Tager his press secretary. He was the perfect choice. Tager was always forthright with the press, and because of the decent, old-fashioned values he stood for and liked to talk about, he gave the party substance and dignity. Peter Tager and his black eye patch became almost as well recognized as Oliver.
Todd Davis made it a point to fly down to Frankfort to see Oliver at least once a month.
He said to Peter Tager, "When you've got a Thoroughbred running, you have to keep an eye on him to make sure he doesn't lose his timing."
On a chilly evening in October, Oliver and Senator Davis were seated in Oliver's study. The two men and Jan had gone out to dinner at Gabriel's and had returned to the Executive Mansion. Jan had left the men to talk. "Jan seems very happy, Oliver. I'm pleased." "I try to make her happy, Todd." Senator Davis looked at Oliver and wondered how often he used the apartment. "She loves you a lot, son." "And I love her." Oliver sounded very sincere.
Senator Davis smiled. "I'm glad to hear that. She's already redecorating the White House." Oliver's heart skipped a beat. "I beg your pardon?" "Oh, didn't I tell you? It's begun. Your name's becoming a byword in Washington. We're going to begin our campaign the first of the year." Oliver was almost afraid to ask the next question "Do you honestly think I have a chance, Todd?" "The word 'chance' implies a gamble, and I don't gamble,
The reduction in the price of the newspaper and in the cost of advertising was attractive, but what made the circulation of the Sun move up was the giveaway contest. It ran for twelve weeks, and entrants had to compete every week. The prizes were cruises to the South Seas and trips to London and Paris and Rio. As the prizes were handed out and publicized with front-page photographs of the winners, the circulation of the Sun began to explode.
"You took a hell of a gamble," Craig McAllister said grudgingly, "but it's working."
"It wasn't a gamble," Leslie said. "People can't resist getting something for nothing."
When Walt Meriwether was handed the latest circulation figures, he was furious. For the first time in years, the Sun was ahead of the Chronicle.
"All right," Meriwether said grimly. "Two can play that stupid game. I want you to cut our advertising rates and start some kind of contest."
But it was too late. Eleven months after Leslie had bought the Sun, Walt Meriwether came to see her.
"I'm selling out," he said curtly. "Do you want to buy the Chronicle?"
"Yes."
The day the contract for the Chronicle was signed, Leslie called in her staff.
"Starting Monday," she said, "we raise the price of the Sun, double our advertising rates, and stop the contest."
One month later, Leslie said to Craig McAllister, "The Evening Standard in Detroit is up for sale. It owns a television station, too. I think we should make a deal." McAllister protested. "Mrs. Chambers, we don't know anything about television, and " "Then we'll have to learn, won't we?" The empire Leslie needed was beginning to build.
Six.
Oliver's days were full, and he loved every minute of what he was doing. There were political appointments to be made, legislation to be put forward, appropriations to be approved, meetings and speeches and press interviews. The State Journal in Frankfort, the Herald-Leader in Lexington, and the Louisville Courier-Journal gave him glowing reports He was earning the reputation of being a governor who got things done Oliver was swept up in the social life of the super wealthy and he knew that a large part of that was because he was married to the daughter of Senator Todd Davis.
Oliver enjoyed living in Frankfort. It was a lovely, historic city nestled in a scenic river valley among the rolling hills of Kentucky fabled bluegrass region. He wondered what it would be like to live in Washington, D. C.
The busy days merged into weeks, and the weeks merged into months Oliver began the last year of his term.
Oliver had made Peter Tager his press secretary. He was the perfect choice. Tager was always forthright with the press, and because of the decent, old-fashioned values he stood for and liked to talk about, he gave the party substance and dignity. Peter Tager and his black eye patch became almost as well recognized as Oliver.
Todd Davis made it a point to fly down to Frankfort to see Oliver at least once a month.
He said to Peter Tager, "When you've got a Thoroughbred running, you have to keep an eye on him to make sure he doesn't lose his timing."
On a chilly evening in October, Oliver and Senator Davis were seated in Oliver's study. The two men and Jan had gone out to dinner at Gabriel's and had returned to the Executive Mansion. Jan had left the men to talk. "Jan seems very happy, Oliver. I'm pleased." "I try to make her happy, Todd." Senator Davis looked at Oliver and wondered how often he used the apartment. "She loves you a lot, son." "And I love her." Oliver sounded very sincere.
Senator Davis smiled. "I'm glad to hear that. She's already redecorating the White House." Oliver's heart skipped a beat. "I beg your pardon?" "Oh, didn't I tell you? It's begun. Your name's becoming a byword in Washington. We're going to begin our campaign the first of the year." Oliver was almost afraid to ask the next question "Do you honestly think I have a chance, Todd?" "The word 'chance' implies a gamble, and I don't gamble,