A high-profile bunch were nursing losses from One51, writes LAURA SLATTERY

THE SPLINTER groups of One51 shareholders took it in turns to applaud their guy.

Later in the investment group’s three-hour agm in the Shelbourne Hotel, there would be dark mutterings about investigations and blackmail and “the long grass”.

But for starters, One51 founder Philip Lynch opted for the more standard Powerpoint defence.

Displaying a chart showing what rebel shareholder Gerry Killen calls “a ragbag of disparate businesses”, Lynch professed himself satisfied with his own performance, “bearing in mind that 2009 wasn’t a good year for anyone, as you very well know”.

The problem is, Lynch isn’t just anyone, and as a result of his pulling power, not just anyone was nursing losses from One51.

“The executives of One51 believe they are in some way protected from the financial crisis,” said Michael Soden, former Bank of Ireland chief executive, who very calmly addressed “Philip” in the manner of a teacher who’s not angry, just disappointed.

“Some shareholders might rightfully feel they are funding a lifestyle that is inconsistent with the performance of the company,” Soden noted.

Broadcaster Ivan Yates, an independent director of One51, assured shareholders that while recent reports had troubled him, as far as its investments were concerned, One51 was “no better or no worse than anyone else”.

There was more damning with faint praise from financier Paschal Taggart, who was incredulous that the directors would not reveal the nine executives who shared in the disputed €2 million patent payout.

“By the way,” he clarified: “I don’t blame Philip for losing my money. I’ve lost more money with the banks.”

By the time the now malfunctioning Shelbourne mics got to the pinstriped rebel Gerry Killen, he was clearly in the mood for the odd joke.

He’d played golf with Lynch in the past and “I hope we’ll play again”. Lynch shook his head, as the laughter rippled.

“When I wake up in the morning and look in the mirror, I want to see George Clooney, but that’s not who’s looking back at me,” Killen continued. “There are people on this board who still think they’re George Clooney.”

Lynch returned to the podium with an identity quibble of his own.

“His motives I wonder about, because it’s not the Gerry Killen I knew,” he said enigmatically, before thanking Killen “for getting us into the Sunday Business Post”.

Killen “wanted to be an heir apparent to Philip Lynch”, claimed Lynch, before digressing into how he had only had one-and-a-half days’ holidays all year. (They were in Spain.)

If shareholders wanted to vote Killen and his associates onto the board, they could “go right ahead”, declared Lynch. The “make my day” was silent.

There was no vote, of course: a bank of proxy votes and some legal stonewalling prevented that, and the queue for the soup began.