Chapter 1: What A Week!

To Be or NOT...

“Miss Carstairs, I heartily suggest that you cease and desist this exhibitionist fetish you seem to have whenever I am around you. I am not, I repeat, not your personal protector. Should you continue in this vein, you may well suffer dire consequences from your actions.”

“Miss Jones, I expect several posts confirming my correspondence to their respective firms. I shall be unavailable until Tuesday, next. If you would please arrange for my presence as they advise place and time for me and procure space for myself at a nice Hotel in San Francisco. I shall be arriving late Monday and leave Friday, noon. All time in that period is available for your booking. Now I must be off.”

It was with some reticence I visited the offices of Prescott, Ball and Reed Esq. The mere thought of the funeral... Hell no! It was the year wait for their adjudication of the will that caused my ill will. I vowed that those who were behind that debacle would suffer.

As expected, I was informed all obstacles had been removed, formal notices issued and the long-standing arrangements for sales completed. More to the point, all monies were ‘In The Bank’, at least liquid funds were so. Next a not un-pleasant task lay ahead.

Meeting with a few dozen agents and solicitors I led them inside my former residence at The Bedford, nearer the A13.

“Mother, Dear, (Step-Mother actually) as I promised myself, the home, contents, cars and various adornments have all been SOLD. These men will start their removal immediately. The agency for the staff has received or will today, notice that the need for them is no longer required as of today. They should contact the agency regarding next positions unless you wish them at some other place for you.

Everything in your rooms have been excluded as per the terms of the will. You have 30 days to have them removed as possession of the property by the new owners is in 31 days. I have been informed by the Solicitors your compensation only as per the will has been processed and awaits you. The final judgment were, as I had expected, only those outlined in the will and processed with such compliance in mind. ‘I’s dotted and T’s crossed’ so to speak.

As I walked out of my former home, my thought was, ‘One Down!’

I would make them all sorry. The money be damned, though their greed for it would become their undoing. I had a few more stops to make before this week was over. Next week would begin Phase II. I had been advised by Ross, my Father’s friend that ‘Revenge was a dish best served COLD’. I had much time and now the ability to take advantage of it. I was in no hurry to extract my ‘pound of flesh’, blood or no blood.

Abby, my sister had been a good friend and my only family now; as such I only thought it right to advise her of my plans regarding Markem LLC. ‘Sell, sell, sell then buy, if you must, for a few pennies on the pound (Euro now). It was good advise I told her. I would also follow that up later this week. Together 47% of the firm would go. I still would have control then the blood bath would start for real.

Evans, Smythe and Foster would buy all they could, I knew it, they salivated for it. With Markem Limited LLC in their greedy little hands 76% of the market in Europe would be theirs. But, a big one, the remainder, the control yes, my share, would cost them not only a few Quid, excuse me, Euros now, but a concession or three. I had over a year to plan this, a year to plan and I cared not how long it took to accomplish. I could have Markem sell low and bleed them dry over prices forever. To me it was only money, not a huge amount even and not something I was concerned with. It was still only Phase I.

Onward and Upwards!

Actually only to Floor Three. With letter in-hand, 2 nice fellows for dealing with any grief and 2 more outside herding traffic back out I announced myself and we ventured forth to do battle with the old Board.

It was quite the sight. Eight grown men with tears in their eyes. Let go in the Prime of their fat salaries. They would not be missed and in my estimation it should have been done ages ago. My 100% of votes was a trump of any non-voting stock you see. as of today it was all in my name, the letter even said so. It saved me 34 Million Euros a year for their salary and was a joy to be rid of dead weight. None would be missed. It would give Abby something to do too, for a bit at least.

I felt, well, jubilant. I called Miss Jones, checked who called, was confirmed for both a Tuesday and Thursday meeting. (can’t disrupt their golf)

I made a call.

“Oh! My dear Miss Jones. Recall, if you would my ‘Thin and Thick Times’ Statement of a year or so ago. Well, I feel it appropriate for a small celebratory toast now. By the by, could you find the time to please double your salary. I do appreciate you watching my posterior all this time.”

I stopped in to hand Miss Jones some flowers. I asked her to dine, dress and ready on ‘my’ dime.

I must have said something ill-mannered; she ran off on me. When she returned, drying her eyes, she said.

“Samantha! My name is Evelyn Samantha Jones and if you call me ‘Evie’ we are quits. Unless you raise my salary again!”

“Allow me to ponder that option. Evie is so much shorter and easier to remember for an older fellow. (I was 26) Might we compromise and I call you, say ‘Sam’ instead?”

Sam was a rare find. Smart, good looking, well-mannered and willing do just about anything to get the job done. More-so, one could TRUST her, you could see it in her face. She never went to ‘Public School’ yet had no peers there. At nineteen, when I found her, experience was not a requirement and it seemed foreign to her to fawn. Because of her looks, her Mum told her it would be ill-advised for her to hire on to a one-man shop. Did I say she was also warned that ‘all men’ just wanted one thing’. My comment to her that, “It is not the only thing I lusted for, there is tea, biscuits, a massage and, and and ... let me think, It is not a simple thing to think with you so close.”

She hired on, not quite believing me. The salary helped make up her mind. With a wink of her eye she laughed at my offer to obtain a flat nearby for her also. (York Estates had a spot in Marylebone still)