The Second Son Read online

  “Good planning,” said Grenville, smiling.

  “So, we have a few months to get Bombard House up to scratch before the equipment arrives,” Carole said.

  “What about normal IT equipment?” asked Jonathan.

  “Most we can get bought off the shelf, plus if you buy in bulk, say three hundred PCs, then a discount will be forthcoming,” Carole replied.

  “Discount, I like discount,” said Hugo, smiling, which made every one laugh.

  “I think we are moving on quite well,” said Grenville, which everyone else nodded at. “Shall we break for lunch?” he asked, standing up.

  Grenville stared out of his office window. The last three months had been dedicated to the re-modelling of Bombard House, and between them setting the staffing levels for each department. It was during these sessions and over a few heated arguments that Grenville smiled and realised he had a good team moving S&T Imports forward. Each of them had put heart and soul into the project. Grenville and Sara stayed in Sara’s London flat during the week, only going to Hampton Hall at weekends. Hugo and Carole had become closer and although they tried to hide it, Grenville smiled; it was a poorly kept secret to anyone who knew them. Jonathan was the only one still not working full time for S&T Imports, and as he told Grenville on more than one occasion, he had a certain allegiance to his father and his firm, and he was expected to take over the mantle once his father retired, but this in no way distracted him from Grenville’s vision, and he would dedicate his time and effort as and when needed. This made Grenville smile again. He always knew since they had first met that Jonathan was destined to follow in his father’s footsteps and become, like him, a High Court judge, but he had a good trusted team around him, and he felt he was finally moving forward.

  The person who had surprised him the most was Sara. Considering she was the first to admit she had no business brain compared to the others, she had on some things outshone the others with her organisational ability and the flair she had to recruit people, and to make quick decisions: from colour scheme in the reception, to layout of each floor restroom, she had the touch, as Hugo called it. All the top managers were now in place, all the departments were up and running, some more than others. Carole was finalising the IT network but Grenville did not interfere or hassle her over it, as even Grenville realised they needed a state of the art system, and they don’t appear overnight. But she had recruited some pretty impressive people in her team, and Grenville was sure she would overcome any foreseen problems, and she told him last time they met some of this stuff was just theory until now.

  The buzzer on his phone brought Grenville out of his daydream. Picking up the phone, he said, “Yes Michelle.”

  “Mr Jonathan Spencer on line one, Chairman.”

  “Thank you, Michelle, please put him through.”

  “Jonathan my dear chap, how are you?”

  “Fine thank you, Grenville.”

  “To what do I owe this pleasure?” Grenville asked.

  “It’s about Easington Investment Bank. Had their company solicitors on the phone and they have convened a board meeting for next month, and they were wondering who was the S&T Imports name.”

  “Think this should be a team decision, old man. You free for lunch?”

  “Let me check,” said Jonathan, “yes, can be with you at one.”

  “Excellent, I will gather the others in the board room.”

  “See you at one,” said Jonathan as he put the phone down.

  Grenville picked up the phone again and Michelle immediately said, “Yes, Chairman.”

  “Michelle, please see if it is convenient for Miss Farthing, Mr Thorn and Miss Burke to meet me in the boardroom for one, and ask Miss Farthing to organise some sandwiches and coffee please.”

  “Of course, Chairman, straight away.”

  As Grenville put the phone down he smiled. Michelle was one of Sara’s finds, and he knew that Sara had picked her with age and status in mind. Michelle was a contented married middle-aged grandmother of four, and very discreet; a perfect personal assistant for a Chairman.

  At one Grenville went to the board room. Jonathan and Hugo were already there. Grenville hugged Jonathan and shook Hugo’s hand.

  “How you two doing?” asked Grenville.

  “Very well,” said Jonathan, smiling.

  “Busy,” said Hugo. “Our chairman is a task master,” he went on, laughing, which made Grenville and Jonathan laugh as well.

  As they were laughing, Carole and Sara came in. “Private joke?” said Sara.

  “Not at all,” said Grenville. “Hugo was just telling Jonathan his chairman is a task master.”

  “He is loveable though,” said Sara, going over and kissing Grenville.

  “Easy for you to say, you are marrying him,” said a laughing Carole, which started them all off laughing again.

  There was a knock on the door and one of Sara’s team wheeled in a trolley with coffee and sandwiches. “Thank you, Lisa,” said Sara, smiling. Lisa smiled back and left.

  “Shall we?” said Grenville, pointing to the table and chairs. After they were all seated, Grenville said, “I apologise from tearing you all away from your busy schedules, but I thought what Jonathan had to discuss should be for the Board.” Everyone smiled around the room. “Jonathan,” said Grenville, holding out his hand.

  Jonathan stood up. “Thank you, Chairman. As I informed the Chairman this morning, I have had contact with Easington Investment Bank’s solicitors asking for the name to be included on the bank’s board, as they have a board meeting set for next month.”

  “So, do we say it’s me and tip our hand?” asked Grenville. “Or give them someone he does not know,” he went on.

  “Well, I don’t think he can harm us now, can he?” asked Carole.

  “Not really, we are too financially secure for that,” replied Hugo, smiling.

  “I think we should let him squirm,” said Sara.

  “My sentiments exactly,” said Jonathan.

  “After what he tried to do to your family, let him know you are coming for him,” said Sara.

  “OK,” said Grenville. “Let’s vote. All those in favour of naming me as the S&T Imports representative?” Four hands shot up. “OK then,” said Grenville, smiling. “Jonathan, can you inform Easington Investment Bank solicitors that the Earl of Eastleigh would be delighted to attend their forthcoming board meeting, on behalf of and as the representative of S&T Imports,” smiled Grenville.

  “Plus, we are all too busy,” said Carole, laughing. “Well, you are all thinking it,” she said, which brought a round of laughter from the table.

  Dexter Simon-Smyth sat staring at the letter he had just received from the bank’s solicitors. “The Earl of Eastleigh will be the representative for S&T Imports for the forthcoming board meeting.” How in the hell did this happen? He was aware S&T Imports were buying up bank shares, but never in a million years did he connect S&T Imports with the boy Hampton; this was a puzzle that needed solving. Also, Hampton had out played him twice now: once over Hampton Hall, and the second time over Bombard House, but what annoyed Dexter more was, how in the hell did he get enough money to clear the debt, and become a big player within S&T Imports? He had tried to get information on S&T Imports, but his contacts were either playing dumb or had been warned off delving too deep. Dexter was not concerned with the boy Hampton, even at school apart from the one incident with his brother Stephan he had nothing to do with him, plus Stephan always said his younger brother was a total waste of space and would not amount to anything. He had been out of the country for several years, doing god knows what; of course, he blamed Stephan Hampton, stupid prig, getting himself killed just as things were going his way. Plus, he had lost the title which Stephan had promised him, which annoyed him more. Farthing was uncontactable which did not come as a surprise as he had heard that young Hampton and the Farthings’ daughter were to marry. How this had happened was a mystery to Dexter, but no doubt Farthing was pleas
ed by the outcome, but he wondered if Hampton knew how much of a player his future father-in-law had been in trying to bring down the Duke of Hampshire and his estate. He was deep in it, up to his neck, over the debt against the Hall; he was going to part purchase it after the present Duke had forfeited the debt, they were ready to swoop in and give the going rate for the place, and with the sale of the estate Dexter would have just about saved his bacon from gathering creditors.

  Picking up the phone, he said, “Can you show Grimes in?” After a minute, there was a silent knock and Dexter said, “Come in.” Grimes entered and walked slowly up to where Dexter was sitting. Dexter loathed the man, he was an odious creature, but was excellent at his work.

  “Grimes, have a small task for you.”

  Grimes smiled a sly smile and said, “It will be a pleasure, Mr Simon-Smyth.”

  Without making eye contact, Dexter passed Grimes a piece of paper, which Grimes picked up, read, and placed back on the table. “I want you to find out everything you can about that person, where he been, how he made his fortune, and any other relevant information,” said Dexter.

  Grimes bowed and turned without speaking before he left the room. Dexter said, “Grimes, this is a top priority, I expect a report in a few days.” Grimes half turned, and gave a slight bow in recognition. Dexter sat back and smiled. By next week, hopefully he could have some dirt on the Hampton boy. Dexter refused to call him the Earl of Eastleigh, after all that should have been his title, and the fact still left a bitter taste in his mouth.

  Grimes kept to the shadows. He hated crowds, preferring his own company. Being a second-rate private investigator had its drawbacks, but since he had gained employment from Mr Simon-Smyth things were looking up. Now he even had money to spend; before, he lived from hand to mouth, sometimes even sleeping rough. His first assignment for Mr Simon-Smyth was by pure chance. He had spotted the advert in the local paper: “looking for an investigator, no questions”. Grimes knew no self-respecting private investigator would apply. He, of course, had no morals and applied at once. Grimes hated Mr Simon-Smyth the first time he saw him, and he knew the feeling was mutual. At least he did not try and be something he was not. Mr Simon-Smyth was a stuck-up toffee nose oaf, who thought the world was there to grant him his every wish, he on the other hand knew exactly his station in life, and was happy with it. After his successful completion of the first job, he was put on a retainer by Mr Simon-Smyth and used from time to time, which for Grimes become quite lucrative; so, started their strange working relationship.

  A week later Grimes was sitting in his local pub nursing a pint of bitter. Although it was only eleven thirty and the place had just opened, he felt he needed it. He was feeling frustrated; his underworld connections were normally good with forthcoming information but his normal sources had either been unavailable or scared to talk to him once he mentioned the name Grenville Hampton, Earl of Eastleigh. This was a conundrum that needed a pint of beer to ponder over.

  Grimes knew Mr Dexter Simon-Smyth would not be happy with his lack of progress and he would soon be hassling him for information. He was unsure why people were not willing to even discuss the Earl of Eastleigh; he had done his preliminary work in Who’s Who and public records, which only described his family tree and his school record up to dropping out of Cambridge after the first year, returning when his brother had died to take up the mantle of Earl of Eastleigh and the next Duke of Hampton. It was the fact he dropped out of Cambridge and then returned several years later that intrigued Grimes. During that time, something major had happened and he was going to find out, as that was the key to the mystery.

  As Grimes studied his pint, pondering what to do next, a fresh pint appeared in front of him. Looking up, a large smartly dressed man smiled and said, “On me, Mr Grimes,” and sat down opposite.

  “Can I help you?” asked Grimes.

  Ignoring Grimes, the man smiled. “You been asking about the Earl of Eastleigh?” Grimes nodded in acknowledgement. “The Earl of Eastleigh is off limits, Mr Grimes,” said the man quietly. “You are going down a dangerous path, Mr Grimes,” he continued. “The Earl of Eastleigh, how shall we say, is protected by some very powerful friends, who do not like people like you asking questions about him.” Grimes felt the sweat trickling down his spine as the man smiled at him. Eastern European, thought Grimes. “We suggest, Mr Grimes, for your own health and safety you cease your present line of inquiry, and forget you ever heard the name of Earl of Eastleigh, and perhaps even take a long overdue holiday,” said the man, still smiling. “Let’s hope my colleagues and I do not have to re-visit this conservation,” the man said, gesturing over his shoulder at the three large men staring intently at Grimes. Standing, the man said, smiling, “We will be watching, Mr Grimes, and if we hear any whispers, we will return and next time you won’t get a free pint on us.” The man turned. He nodded to the three men standing at the bar, and as all four left, Grimes sat and stared at their departing backs.

  Grimes quickly took a gulp of the offered pint. His mind was racing. What had Mr Simon-Smyth got him into? No way was he now going to ask more questions about the Earl of Eastleigh. The threat, although subtle, had spoken volumes, and no way was he going to jeopardise his life for Mr bloody Simon-Smyth and his meagre payment. Quickly formulating a plan, Grimes quickly finished his pint and left the bar, keeping to the shadows back towards his lodgings. Once or twice he stopped in doorways to look behind him but could not see anyone, but that did not mean they were not watching him. Grimes started to sweat heavily and his breathing was becoming laboured. Calm down, he told himself, after all they gave you a free pint and a warning.

  Once back at his lodgings Grimes quickly packed a suitcase with his personal belongings, which did not take long, then moved aside his chest of drawers and under a loose floorboard removed the money he had saved. Counting it, it came to just close to three thousand pounds, enough to get him far away from this place. Closing the door behind him, Grimes crossed the road just as the bus for Waterloo Station arrived. Grimes brought a single ticket to Waterloo Station. Grimes sat on an unoccupied seat and closed his eyes and for the first time in an hour breathed normally.

  From the shadows, the man who spoke to Grimes in the bar watched Grimes board the bus. Once the bus was out of sight, he smiled and turned and walked away in the opposite direction.

  Dexter Simon-Smyth was in a fury. It was the day of the board meeting and still he had nothing concrete on the boy Hampton. Grimes had vanished off the face of the earth. Despite ringing the emergency number Grimes had left with Dexter, it just kept ringing out. Dexter had even sent someone round to his shabby flat, which was empty. Asking about, they were told that no one had seen Grimes in a few days. Where the hell could he have gotten to? It was not like Grimes, he loved money too much not to get in contact.

  Dexter closed his eyes and pondered on the next course of action he needed to take. The board were manageable, he could sweet talk most of them; after all, most of them owed him their good fortune, which Dexter had no qualms in letting each of them know. Hampton was an unknown force. If Dexter knew his game plan he could head it off, or even come up with his own plan of attack. He hated this present situation. He always had the ability since school to manage situations and manipulate them and people to his own advantage, but this new situation with the boy Hampton was new ground, and for the first time in his life was unsure how to proceed.

  There were now seven members on the Easington Investment Bank board. Dexter himself as the Chairman, one Executive Director, Forbes who also ran the bank’s Procurement Branch, two inside Directors, Manning and Herbert both from associated banks within the City, and three outside directors, Cross, Baker and now the boy Hampton. Dexter was sure he could still control an overall vote of the board with the layout as it was, but Hampton could muddy the waters if not checked.

  Dexter smiled at the men sitting around the boardroom table, but the smile did not reach his eyes. As he stared at a smiling
Hampton, Dexter turned to Forbes and said, “Please, Duncan, the minutes of the last meeting, if you please.” Forbes stood, and read the minutes of the last meeting, after finishing Dexter said, “Anyone object to these being a true account so we can pass them as read?” Everyone around the table raised their hands except Grenville. “Item two,” said Dexter, “the welcome of the representative from S&T Imports as the seventh board member due to their company’s investment into Easington Investment Bank.”

  Grenville stood without being asked and said, “Thank you chairman, I hope I can make a worthwhile contribution to the Board.” A “hear, hear” came from around the rest of the table. Dexter glared at Grenville with hatred in his eyes. Grenville sat with a smile; round one to me, he thought.

  The next item on the agenda was the financial statement, which Grenville was most interested in. Dexter said, “At present, the bank is treading water on its own.”

  “What exactly does that mean?” asked Manning.

  “Well, we are holding our own, in the present unstable financial climate,” replied Dexter.

  “Still does not tell us anything,” said Herbert. Forbes had gone white and had a noticeable sweat on him.

  Dexter smiled and said, “Gentlemen I can assure you the bank is stable.”

  “If it is stable, give us the figures,” said Grenville, smiling.

  Dexter glared at Grenville, and said, “Duncan if you please.”

  Duncan Forbes got shakily to his feet, and tried to clear his throat, but his voice was still squeaky. “At present, with some assets which the bank is unable to sell on, we are in the red by just under two million pounds.”

  “Of course,” Dexter said quickly, “these are assets that if we sell, we can make a handsome profit on, so I suggest gentlemen this is just a temporary setback for the bank.”

  “How many purchases are we talking about?” asked Cross.