A Stunning Coup

Howard S. Levin opened his small fist and a cascade of varicolored business cards fluttered onto his luncheon table. One card identified him as president of Levin-Townsend Computer Corp. Others proclaimed separately that he headed three affiliates: Las Vegas' Bonanza Hotel & Casino, National Equities Inc. and Levin-Townsend Service Corp. "Take them," he told TIME Correspondent Rudolph Rauch last week. "They are all obsolete."

In a corporate coup organized with stunning secrecy, 45-year-old Levin had been bounced from the presidency of Levin-Townsend Computer, a seven-year-old leasing company that aspired to become a conglomerate. As Levin tells the story, he went to a board meeting in Manhattan after Co-Founder James E. Townsend had told him that there would be no agenda. "Suddenly," says Levin, "there was an agenda and a motion removing me as president." It carried 4-2, and Levin trudged back to his office--which he says he found locked and watched by security guards.

A Fling on Broadway. In 1962 Levin, who once taught college mathematics courses, teamed up with Townsend, a former Union Carbide executive, in creating a company to buy computers from IBM and lease them to users at a discount. The firm prospered, and Levin began spreading into the far-off fields of restaurant franchising, real estate and Nevada gambling, in which he had no real management experience. After Levin-Townsend bought the Bonanza Hotel last March, Levin got into what gambling authorities described as a "childish feud" with Nathan S. Jacobson, who owned an important minority share in the hotel and held its gaming and liquor licenses. Las Vegans say that the squabble intensified when Jacobson tried to fire Patty Miller, a blonde secretary whom Levin later made the hotel's administrative assistant. (Another secretary, Carol Parks, became Levin-Townsend treasurer, but was turned out in the cold last week with Levin.) Levin-Townsend even played angel to two Broadway musicals, Maggie Flynn and The Fig Leaves Are Falling--both resounding flops.

Executives who have dealt with Levin say that he rammed through several acquisitions without consulting all of his directors. Levin concedes that "maybe I made some mistakes," but insists that directors were fully informed and made no objections. The acquisitions generally expanded Levin-Townsend's revenues but did nothing for profits. Sales in the first half of the company's 1970 fiscal year, ended last September, rose to $33 million from $23 million a year earlier, but profits dropped to $3.6 million from $5.2 million. The company is expected to report a loss for the Dec. 31 quarter, and its stock has tumbled from a 1969 high of $58 to $13 last week.

Wall Streeters expect Levin, who owns 9% of Levin-Townsend stock, to start a proxy fight. He speaks with patronizing contempt of the executives who dismissed him. Of Onetime Friend Townsend he says: "Jim could implement that which I could conceive." With MacArthur-like resolve, Levin vows: "I will be back."

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