The secret world of the City's kingmaker

Anna Mann is the doyenne of the headhunters but she moves in mysterious ways

She is the woman they all want to know. But Britain's corporate "Ms Fix-it" lives in a world so shady, that few people even know what she looks like. Described invariably as "determined", "powerful" and "persuasive", her phone call is the one you don't want to miss.

Anna Mann, the mysterious doyenne of London headhunters, has been busy. Despite recently announcing her decision to leave the recruitment agency she founded nearly three decades ago, she has shown she has lost none of the special touch that has earned her a reputation as one of the most powerful women in Britain's FTSE 100 boardrooms.

The appointment yesterday of John Devaney as chairman of the embattled former technology star Marconi was one example of her work. As was confirmation that Ms Mann, of Whitehead Mann, is handling the search for the man to replace Steve Russell, the outgoing chief executive of the high street's faltering chemist, Boots. Also on her list is Cable and Wireless. The former bastion of the Empire's telecommunications network needs an executive chairman, quickly, to step into the breach left by the mismanagement of Graham Wallace, its chief executive, and the early retirement of its chairman-designate. Ms Mann's dialling finger will be working overtime.

Although Ms Mann – who reputedly lives on an island in the middle of a nature reserve in the heart of the Home Counties – keeps very much to herself, associates paint an alluring picture of her. Archie Norman, the Tory parliamentarian and renowned turnaround specialist, calls her "an absolute livewire". Others see her as either "quite coquettish" or "charming", depending on which side of the interview table they sit.

Sir John Collins, the former Shell executive who stepped into the top slot at Dixons in September following the retirement of Sir Stanley Kalms, says of Ms Mann's expertise: "She knows a great many people and exercises the magic of good headhunters, which is matching people with the right jobs. It's all very straightforward but she does it with great skill."

In her early 50s, Ms Mann, who has a doctorate in psychology, may seek to eschew the limelight by declining to give press interviews, but it never fails to catch up with her. Partly this stems more from an in-built nosiness on behalf of the public consciousness to know more about the men (and they mainly are men) in corporate boardrooms. But it also reflects the success of a woman who has built up the country's only homegrown recruitment agency – or "leadership consultancy" – to rival the Yanks in terms of size and influence in this country. Her hauls range from Sir Christopher Bland, the former BBC director general who now heads BT, to Luc Vandervelde, the indiscriminate Belgian who spearheaded the recovery at Marks & Spencer. Other catches include Clara Furse, the chief executive of the London Stock Exchange, and Tony Ball at BSkyB. Yet it was Mr Norman, and specifically the success he had at Asda, where he made his name in the early Nineties, that cemented Ms Mann's position in the headhunting firmament.

Mr Norman, who was appointed to chair Energis earlier this year, was a reluctant convert to the Ms Mann fanclub. Reluctant because the then finance director at Kingfisher was not at all sure that he wanted to accept the poisoned chalice of Asda's chief executiveship when he was first approached by Ms Mann at the nadir of the supermarket chain's fortunes in late 1991. "I was very, very much in two minds about it. It was a complete basket case," he recalls. "But you don't say no to Anna. It took someone like her to push me over the edge." Of her persuasive tactics, the former Tory party chairman adds: "If she thinks this is something you should look at, you take it seriously. She has a very strong idea about people. What they can do and what they can't and very often she's right."

In Asda's case, Ms Mann's ruse came in the nick of time. Mr Norman agreed to accept the post 10 minutes before Patrick Gillam, the then chairman (another Ms Mann appointee), was due to face "1,000 baying Yorkshiremen in Pudsey Civic Hall who were all incandescent" at the supermarket group's fall from grace, at a meeting to approve a deeply discounted rescue rights issue. The two men were joined shortly by Allan Leighton, the current head of the Post Office and serial board director, who became Asda's chief executive when Mr Norman moved to the chairman's seat. And who placed the call to Mr Leighton? Ms Mann, of course. These days, Whitehead Mann may be headquartered in London and New York, with offices in Paris, Frankfurt, Munich and Hong Kong, but the recent plunge in the company's stockmarket valuation means it is so small that it is being thrown out of the FTSE All Share index this week. A sad irony indeed for a company so instrumental in matching executives to vacant FTSE boardroom seats. Shares in the group, which listed in 1997, have collapsed from 410p in June to just 105p today. This leaves the 7 per cent of the company owned by Ms Mann, according to the group's most recent annual report, valued at less than £2m. So, could the company's star be waning?

Some City sources believe the entire murky world of headhunting could be in line for a shake-up. The forthcoming government-sponsored Higgs report on boardroom appointments will, according to some quarters, lead to an overhaul of the shadowy processes of the headhunting mafia. Criticisms levelled at the practice, which ensures the old-boy network is alive and kicking, range from blaming it for the overwhelmingly male make-up of the directorial gene pool to the narrow confines of an executive search process. Wild cards need not apply, it seems.

One offshoot of this is that Ms Mann's success has made it harder for her to actually source fresh talent – the crop of possible executives is only so big. "Because she's been so successful she can't really properly service all of her clients. There are all sorts of inherent conflicts that restrict her ability to deliver what she says she will deliver. Some former followers are a bit disaffected and feel they've been shortchanged," one industry source says. Another adds: "She has got a bit lazy and a bit grand since the company went public." The source adds: "She made a big mistake with Anglo American earlier this year – she was involved in recruiting Goran Lindahl from Anglo American to ABB. But then he had to resign due to the scandal. It was very embarrassing for ABB and she was slow at finding a replacement."

This, associates say, could be behind her recent decision to leave Whitehead Mann's lucrative payroll in mid-2004 to set up her own consultancy advising on board effectiveness and performance. She will be joined by her husband, Clive, who stepped back earlier this year from Whitehead Mann's deputy chairmanship to non-executive status. An "agreement" with her current employer naturally prevents her from going into competition.

But ultimately she will be unlikely to keep a low profile. In the words of Mr Norman: "She always gets her man."