The Richard Jackson Saga Book 10: Taking Care of Business
Ed & Carol Nelson
The Richard Jackson Saga
Book 10: Taking Care of Business
By Ed Nelson
Dedication
This is dedicated to my wife Carol for her support and help as my first reader and editor.
Also, the Bellefontaine High School Class of 1962 just because.
Quotation
“That’s the way it happened, give or take a lie or two.”
James Garner as Wyatt Earp describing the gunfight at the OK Corral in the movie Sunset.
Copyright © 2021
E. E. Nelson
All rights reserved
Eastern Shore Publishing
2331 Del Webb Blvd. W.
Sun City Center, FL 33573
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage retrieval systems without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, organizations, places, events, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
The Richard Jackson Saga
Dedication
Quotation
Copyright © 2021
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, organizations, places, events, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Chapter 47
Chapter 48
Chapter 49
Chapter 50
Chapter 51
Chapter 52
Chapter 1
After the Holidays I flew back to England to start my new term at Oxford. The first thing waiting for me at the mail table sitting in The Meadows entrance was a stack of telegrams.
Every one of them was from my brothers and sister. Each telegram reminded me that I was seventeen years old. During my birthday celebrations, I made the mistake of saying I was eighteen.
Why I made that mistake I don’t know, but my wonderful siblings weren’t going to let me forget it. Something about not being as perfect as I thought I was.
Maybe I was getting forgetful at my advanced age, Who knew? I might forget to buy them Christmas presents next year.
Speaking of Christmas, when arriving at The Meadows it was Christmas all over again. Nothing big, but Grand Mum had knitted me a sweater.
It was dark blue with the Oxford logo in grey. The logo was offset on my left side. It was really neat looking.
I had bought her a one hundred pound gift certificate from Harrods. I know I should have picked out a real gift, but I had no idea what to get a lady of her age.
She seemed very happy with it. To her, she would be getting her shopping for free!
I also had Mr. Hammond purchase cufflinks for the male staff and a broach for the females. I gave him a matching tie clasp and cuff links from Tiffany’s in New York.
Having staff all over the world was very convenient for running errands.
The staff chipped in and gave me a new set of riding clothes. I thought that strange as I didn’t have a horse in England. That is until I was handed a card from Mum and Dad.
A riding horse was waiting for me at a local stable. They had purchased it and it would be kept there as we couldn’t justify supporting a stable at The Meadows.
I was glad to see that while money was no object the family was still mindful of spending.
My first class at Oxford was part of a business course. I had given up on a formal program leading to a specific degree. Instead, I was taking those courses that would help me in general and sounded interesting.
This business course was part of the MBA program. I thought I would have an easy A, but that I would learn a few things along the way.
I had a rude surprise about the easy A.
The Don introduced himself and then told us the course requirements. Besides the normal reading requirements, there was a live business case study.
The course was run over two terms so we would have six months to complete the case study. We had to start a business and make a profit. Our grades would depend on the gross profit made.
We would start with funds of 50 pounds each. If by the end of the second term it had made 500 pounds it would be a C, 1000 pounds for a B, and 2500 pounds for an A.
That seemed easy enough to me. We had a choice of going it alone or combining it with other students. If we combined it would scale up, for two people 100 pounds, but 1000 pounds for a C, 2000 pounds for a B, etc. Three people would have 150 pounds and would need 1500 pounds for a C.
I thought it would be easier for me to go alone.
It turned out I had no choice in going it alone. After the Don explained the terms he continued.
“We have a special case in class, Sir Richard Jackson. For any that may not be aware Sir Richard is very wealthy.”
“As such this assignment would be nothing for him, I’m proposing a challenge especially for him to level the grading curve in the class.”
Cricky he's set me up, I have to accept whatever is coming or I will be blamed for a bad grading curve in the class.
“Sir Richards's challenge is that he will start with 10,000 pounds. To get a C it will take 100,000 pounds, a B 250,000 pounds, and an A will be 1,000,000 pounds.”
Oh well, I can use Jackson Enterprises as support, not that big of a deal.
“He must do this from scratch without using any of his current company resources.”
Arrgh, can I drop this course? No, he has me cornered, if nothing else my pride won’t let me do it.
“What say you, Sir Richard?”
I can accept, accept under protest, refuse the challenge, or drop the course.
“I accept.”
“Capital, I wish your sister Mary was in this course. I would love to see what she could do.”
“You seem to know a lot about my family.”
“It’s called business intelligence. I research the backgrounds of all my students. You will have to learn to do the same in the business world.”
Someone in the back of the room asked about my sister, is she rich?
“Miss Mary Jackson is worth a million in her own right and from what I understand is about to receive a royal patent to purvey clothes to Her Majesty.”
“Hey Rick, is anyone shagging your sister?”
I didn’t think I could move that fast. Several men in the crowd pulled me off the guy before I could do him harm.
“Sir Richard, please sit down. If you are going to do violence do it outside of the lecture hall. I should have mentioned that his sister Mary is six years old.”
That set up an uproar in the room. Half the class wanted to help me kill the jerk, the other half wanting to know how she did it.
The jerk wasn’t completely stupid, he left the room and dropped the class. For all I know, he fled the country, as I never saw him again.
After the room settled down the Don added one more thing.
“Some of you will have a letter from me in your mailbox. As I told you intelligence is important. I know some of you are under extreme financial difficulty and I’m sending you fifty pounds for your business.”
“I’m like any other businessman and want to make a profit. I expect my money back with ten percent interest from your first profits. That won’t count against your grade count.”
“If you lose all your money then I will be out mine, just as in the real world. I’m making an unsecured loan. For all the years I have been doing this I’ve ended up in the black every year.”
After that, there was a long question and answer period. While that was going on I thought about what I would do. To raise that amount of money in a six-month run would be difficult.
The only way I saw to accomplish that was to invent something and license it out. I would have to give this some serious thought.
My losing my temper over Mary had one positive effect. Normally at the end of the class, I would have been inundated by the girls who wanted to know the rich guy and possibly marry him, and guys wanting to be a friend of the rich guy.
They all left me alone. This was good and bad, good as I didn’t want false attention, bad because it prevented me from having real friends. This problem had plagued me since my first movie.
One neat thing happened. While I was in class a message was left for me. The restoration of the Ferrari I had won from that Arabian jerk of a prince was complete. I could pick it up in London at any time.
Instead, I called and asked for a price to have it delivered to The Meadows. It seemed reasonable so I agreed to the amount and it was due on Wednesday.
While I was at home at Christmas some old business had come up. The new R&D center for Jackson Personal Products had been scheduled to open last October.
This was delayed by new requirements put in place by the State of California. If they kept doing this we would have to give serious thought to moving operations out of the state.
The new opening date was in late January so I had to sneak a trip back to the States for the ribbon cutting. At the same time, I would try to corner Mum on what she was doing in Morocco during the war.
I had tried to corner her at Christmas but she always seemed to drift away. One thing I noticed that Dad was never present when she would even use the word Morocco.
I had to find out, inquiring minds you know.
Another thing that I was behind on was doing voice overs for the documentary about the new container business. I just wouldn’t have time to get it done while in the US.
I made a mental note to contact Mr. Monroe and see if it could be done at Pinewood Studios. That was another thing I had to give a definitive answer about the two movie scripts they had sent me.
I was inclined to do them as they fit the criteria I had given them. They both seemed like fun comedies.
Then I had to get up to London sometime and review the purposed flying uniforms for the new division of the Queen’s Messengers. I hoped they would be practical.
My list of fun things to do was growing: I had to do was take delivery of a Ferrari, and at the same time arrange for pictures with a pretty girl on the hood. I was hoping to get Nina from Switzerland some weekend. Perhaps she would like to be the ‘hood ornament.’
Then I had to fly to the States for a ribbon-cutting, and, do voice-overs for my documentary, oh, yes, sign up to appear in two movies.
I almost forgot. I also had to select a uniform for the Queen’s Messengers.
Then I had to keep up with my classwork, and I suppose I should check with the Queen to see if she needed any dogs robbed.
Oh yes, and invent something that would make a lot of money in the short run. All in all, it sounded like an easy term coming up at Oxford. Well, easy as compared to running for my life from the KGB and the Stasi.
Being a logical person, I took care of the important issue first and called Nina to see when she could come over for the pictures with my new Ferrari. She was busy catching up with things this weekend but the next would be grand. I would fly over to pick her up on Friday and get her home on Sunday.
Even though it was dinner time in the UK, it was still work hours in California so I put in a call to Mr. Monroe. He wasn’t available so I left a message for him to call me at his convenience.
Mustn’t upset the girlfriend's Dad.
All this and it is just past dinner on Monday.
Grand Mum and I had tea and coffee after dinner. She told me that she was having dinner with John on Friday. For the life of me, I couldn’t figure out who John was.
I must have had a puzzled look because she said, John Norfolk, the Duke of Suttonham,
Egads and little fish hooks, my Grand Mum going on a date, with a Duke! I was at a loss for words. I mean they were both adults, but Grand Mum’s weren’t supposed to go chasing after men at her age. At least I didn’t think so.
“That’s nice. Where is he taking you?”
“We are having dinner with the Royal family at Windsor.”
Things became a little clearer, Queen Mum Mary might have a hand in this.
“Is he picking you up?”
“Oh no, I’m picking him up, it’s on the way.”
What a modern Grand Mum I have, who would have thought.
“It will be a long drive back.”
“I know, that’s why we would like to borrow your suite in London.”
“Certainly.”
I need some brain floss, the pictures I’m getting are not normal.
Again my face must have given me away.
“Richard what nasty thoughts you have. Mr. Hamilton is driving us and staying and we are being accompanied by Pamela and her new boyfriend.”
As the Alka Seltzer ad says, ‘Oh what a relief it is.’
“Good to know.”
“I’ll ‘good to know’ you, you nasty boy. Women of my age don’t bed men on the first date; it usually takes about three.”
Oh my God, let me out of here.
Grand Mum started laughing like a loon.
“Oh, Richard, the look on your face was priceless. We don’t act like that at all.”
“You frightened me. I’m just not used to thinking of you as a woman. You are my Grand Mum.”
“That’s all right Richard my lad, by and by, we don’t count the dates. It’s by the number of presents.”
I fled to my room coffee untouched. Routed horse and foot. I thought Mum was a holy terror, but now I knew where she got it from. If it passed down through the female line, the world would come to an end when Mary grew up.
Well, maybe not an end, but the place of females in the world would change. I tried to go to sleep but it evaded me as I thought of Mary changing the world.
When I decided it could be a good thing I was able to drift off.
Tuesday had me up early and running, I had increased my run to ten miles a day. East Germany was still fresh on my mind.
As I ran I thought about my economics class project. I could object and have it changed but I did agree to it. Besides, it sounded like a fun challenge. The question was, what could I invent, patent, and license out in a short timeframe? I didn’t come to any conclusions.
After cleaning up and breakfast, thankfully missing Grand Mum, I went to the library to type a paper that would be due by the end of term. My typing had greatly improved. So much that I would clash and occasionally stick the keys.
While easy to do on the old mechanical typewriters it was hard to accomplish on the new electrics. That’s when it dawned on me, why did we have these long levers with the letters on them.
It made sense with the original typewriters, but the new electrics could work in different ways. I would have to think about this.
I also decided against attending the economics class. The other students would be all over me for the wrong reasons, fame, and fortune. I could avoid this by skipping most of the classes.
The Don was one of those who stuck closely to his notes, so I could just keep up with those. If I had any questions I could schedule an appointment.
One problem solved, now I hoped the rest of the day went as well.
Chapter 2
Driving into Oxford for my first class of the day. I thought about the typewriter idea I had yesterday. If I eliminated keys, how would the letters be struck?
I was still thinking about it after I parked my Aston Martin in the garage and was walking to class. I passed a toy shop on my way. In the window was a toy typewriter.
It was made by Marx a large toy company. What struck me was that it was supposed to be a fully functioning typewriter but it had no keys.
There was a dial on top which had to be turned into position for each letter by hand then the head depressed –well, slapped, to print the letter.
It would be tedious to type a letter, to say the least, but it could be done. Now if there was a way to motorize the operation it would be a great improvement over the current keys.
I was on to something, I would have to think about how I could get an electric signal sent by touching a letter on the keyboard and translating it to mechanical action.
My lecture was okay, but I didn’t feel like I learned anything, just confirmed what I already knew. While a certain amount of this was helpful I would hate for every class to be like this. I needed new information.
I had lunch with my escorts, they were still ever-present in uniform. Their being with me tended to keep other people at their distance. Today I was with an Army Major from New Zealand and an Army Captain from Australia.
Since I had been to both countries we had an interesting conversation. Granted for me it was only one business trip.
The Major loved my story about the ‘tall’ Mayor. The man had a reputation that was not the best. He was thought of as a bully so the Mayor was glad to see him put in his place.
The port project in New Zealand was stalled with continuing union problems so I avoided that subject.
Australia on the other hand was growing its seaports like crazy. The container business had opened up new markets for their companies and they were taking great advantage of it.
It was good to get unbiased thoughts on how things were going. If you read my company's internal reports things were glowing, except for New Zealand. It was good to get confirmation on the accuracy of our company reports.
That made me wonder if I should have an independent group tracking my company’s progress in each market.
Our reporting chain was typical for American companies. Each unit reported to a manager upstream who in turn reported to higher management.
This was all well and good unless one of the report sources was problematic. They could report everything was fine, and we had no independent checks around the individual reporting.
If we had a weak manager reporting to a weak manager things could become buried and fester until they became a major issue.
That bothered me enough I called Dad that evening and asked him his thoughts.
“Rick, your managers should have their boots on the ground. Not just take their subordinate's word but go out to the job site and talk to the customer to make certain everything is okay. This needs to be done at every level in the corporation. Your management needs not only to talk to the people below them but sample the staff that reports to them. This is especially true when the manager may be in one country, his direct report in another, and the working staff in a third.”
“Is that being done?”
“I have no idea, it's your company.”
Ouch. Following the logic I had just agreed to, I had to visit my direct reports and their directs to make certain nothing was being bottled up.
How would I make the time to do this? Those in the US would be difficult but doable. However, I had people spread out all over the world.
I would have to give this serious thought. I wanted an education but not at the cost of everything I had built up in the last several years.
I went to my room and had some hard thoughts. I had too many irons in the fire. How could I make movies, go to school, do that economics challenge, and take care of my real business?
Also, there was my role as a Queen’s Messenger. Then my having a life that included dates with Nina. Something had to give. The problem is that I wanted everything.
Well, not everything. That business challenge had been forced on me. I could back out of it completely or find another way to accomplish it.
I had made no movie commitments yet so I could slow that down. Then I could talk to Mr. Norman about only taking on serious messages.
Then I had forgotten I had to do a narration of the documentary on my container business. Plus there was property in Spain that I had never visited.
Criminently! This life stuff was difficult. I was going to have to make some hard choices and they would affect my future directions in life.
I dithered about what to do for hours. I finally got to sleep at one in the morning. I woke up feeling like I had a hangover.
Even my morning run didn’t help that much. I felt like I had the weight of the world on my shoulders and didn’t know how to set it down.
I drifted through my classes, I’m not even certain why I bothered to go. If I hadn’t purchased the notes I would have been lost.
As soon as I got back to The Meadows I called Nina. She answered her phone. The posh school she went to allowed each student to have a private line in their room.
I spent the next two hours telling her about my woes. She was supportive but didn’t pretend to have any answers.
We did talk about the business challenge and in explaining it to her I had a realization. Nothing was prohibiting me from hiring a prototype firm to translate the Marx toy typewriter into a real working typewriter.
It would cost a lot, but it would save me a huge amount of time and effort.
After I gave my tale of woe I spent another hour listening to her problems. They were all social, as in relationships at school and who was in the in-crowd.
I listened and said the right supportive words in the right places. She deserved it for hearing me whine.
My only real contribution to her problem was to observe that social status at her school was defined by either title, fortune, or fame.
She was barely holding on in the title division by dating me, a lowly knight. While well off she didn’t have a fortune, though again I lent her some help in that area.
Fame seemed to be the one thing that she didn’t have that was doable. I suggested she earn fame by being an actress.
At first, she was cold to the idea. She knew too much about the inside of the industry. I countered that by pointing out that she had a built-in advantage. No creepy director or producer would try to get her on a casting couch with her father being a power in the industry.
Besides, that she had me. Without any facts being public my reputation now had an undercurrent of violence. I didn’t know how that got started but it was out there. It went beyond my Death Wind role.
She told me she would think about it. I thought she was making much about nothing but I would support her no matter what.
I called Jim Wallace in the US and asked him to look up prototype developers in the Thompson Directory. Those huge green books had every company in the US in them.
I didn’t think using Jim to look in the directory was abusing the business challenge. If it was they could stick it in their ear.
He found a company that had offices in New York and London. This was perfect. In England, they went by D. L. Prettyman Ltd. I called and made an appointment with them for Thursday afternoon.
I could attend a morning lecture and then fly to London. When I landed in London I spotted a DC-8 with an unusual paint scheme. It was in the colors of the House of Saud.
It was in the private plane area so I got a good look. While I was filing a return flight plan and seeing what the weather would be like later in the early evening.
I asked about the aircraft. It was a wonder. While none of them had been inside they related how it had full-sized beds, bathrooms, and living room type seating areas.
While riding in a cab to town I thought about that. If I had to go all over the world maybe I needed a plane decked out like that. With an office set up, I could keep up on my school work as I went.
I wondered if I could lease a 707 and have the interior redone to my liking. It would take too long to have one built from scratch. Mum and Dad had been trying for two years now. Of course, they kept selling their place in line.
At Prettyman's they welcomed me, they had called my bank and knew I had money. That always helps.
I sat down with a sales type and an engineer. When I described what I was trying to accomplish the engineer started nodding his head.
He had just read about a device called a whiffletree linkage. It would translate a binary input (electric), to analog (mechanical). Each key on the typewriter would send a signal to the whiffletree which would extend out connecting to a specific key on the disk with the letter face.
We discussed it for a while and instead of a disk as on the Marx typewriter we would have all the letters on a ball, it would be about the size of a golf ball so we started calling it that.
The ball would tilt and rotate to the correct position using a shaft. Another shaft would give case shifting and spacing.
It all made sense to me so I signed a letter of intent with a contract to follow and left them a five thousand pound deposit.
I left there feeling good about the business challenge I had been given. IBM would snap this up in a heartbeat.
I had planned to stop at the Palace and check in with Mr. Norman but the time at Prettyman’s had run longer than I planned. I headed back to the airport just in time to see the Saudi jet take off.
I had to look into that. I certainly had spent enough hours in the air just sitting there or trying to work with people looking over my shoulder.
Nina arrived at Heathrow on Friday evening. I was waiting at the gate. This was the most time-efficient way for us to have a real weekend. From there we went to my suite at the Plaza as we intended to do dinner and a play tomorrow evening.
It had not been said, but I knew tomorrow afternoon would be shopping. We walked to my favorite fish and chip shop for dinner. It was wonderful as always. It would be a good restaurant to make a franchise. Maybe I should talk to Mr. Treacher about that.
We had a nice evening eating, walking, and doing nothing. Well not quite nothing, but we shan’t go into that. I will say there was no chance of any issue from our evening.
Saturday morning we had a late breakfast. It was a pleasure being able to sleep in. I didn’t even bother to go for a run.
We did talk about Nina appearing in movies. She was at the best lukewarm to the idea. She had seen too much of the industry and just didn’t want the lifestyle.
As I feared the afternoon was spent shopping. My job was to be a mule. I also had to nod and say that everything looked wonderful. I must say that the new style dress she tried on did look wonderful.
They called it a mini-dress. That coupled with a pair of boots got my blood racing. I didn’t have to fake my enthusiasm for the outfit.
Nina bought several of the dresses and several wide belts, along with two more pairs of boots. Next, she had to pick out a selection of blouses to wear with them.
She spent a lot of time in the backroom with the sales assistant. I heard a lot of giggling. When she came out to show off the complete outfit I thought it neat.
When she turned and her whole front moved I realized she wasn’t wearing a bra. My mind froze up. I only had one thought, let's get back to the hotel.
Nina and the sales girl looked at each other and nodded.
Nina said while smirking, “Yep, it works.”
A guy never had a chance.
She changed back into the clothes she had worn to the store but assured me I would get another look at the hotel.
Not only at the hotel, but she also wore the outfit to dinner and the theater. It’s a wonder there weren’t car accidents when we got out of the cab at the restaurant.
I had made reservations, so there weren’t any problems getting to our table. Well, other than that one guy who thought he had his wine glass to his lips when he tipped it. What a mess.
The maître d' must have approved because he gave us a very prominent table. After a nice meal, we left for the theater.
Someone must have called the press because photographers were waiting for us. My approach to these matters was to keep my head down, my mouth shut, and get into the car as quickly as possible.
Nina posed and strutted for the photographers for a good five minutes. She was having a ball. I wonder what her father would say when he saw the pictures, as I was sure he would.
I asked her about it and got a laugh, “He understands publicity, no problem.”
When we got back to the hotel there was a message waiting at the front desk. Would I please call my sister, Mary?
Strange, I only have one sister.
I call Jackson House and Mary was brought to the phone. I even quizzed her about the message.
“Oh, I thought it would be more professional if I identified myself.”
“Then you should have left your full name.”
A big brother has to give his little sister a hard time.
“Don’t be silly Rick, I called you for a reason.”
“What’s that squirt?”
“We are going to expand my clothing line to older girls. We need a model. We want a fresh new face, not the same tired old ones that are out there. Do you think Nina would be interested?”
There was so much in that sentence that I had a hard time processing it. Instead, I handed the phone to Nina and told her, “It’s for you.”
The girls talked for half an hour or more. I did pick up that Nina would be modeling and that the photoshoots would be in Switzerland so they wouldn’t interfere with her classes.
When she hung up Nina was ecstatic. She now had a paying job and points in the social game.
Chapter 3
After Nina calmed down a little she gave me more details on her deal with Mary. Well, it was actually with the ad agency for the company which made Mary’s clothing collection.
With a lot of adult help from Mum and Sharon Wallace, Mary had retained a lot of control over how her collections were presented. Using one of Mary’s approved words, there would be nothing slatternly in her image.
At least until she was older, like maybe fourteen. At the time I didn’t argue with her, I figured Mum would handle that.
Anyway, Nina would have to meet a photographer in Zurich to build a portfolio for the ad agency. While Mary had the right to submit and approve models the agency also had the same rights.
I didn’t think it would be a problem for Nina she had the slender height that was getting to be the new fashion for models.
I had a brilliant thought, of course, it was brilliant, it was mine. I called Denny. He had taken a lot of candid photos of Nina and me over Christmas. I asked him to look through and see if any were worth submitting. He thought there would be some. He would airmail the photos to Nina.
They had his studio watermark on them so they would be sure to get the credit. It might open a new door for his studio.
The work would be well paid, but she wouldn’t end up wealthy. However, she would be invited to all the best parties and events if this came to pass.
I was glad I wasn’t a girl with all these pressures.
Sunday evening I saw Nina off at Heathrow. She was to call me on her safe arrival. When she didn’t call at the appointed time I began to worry. She called two hours later. There had been a mechanical delay at the gate at Heathrow.
Monday during a break in my classes I called an aircraft leasing firm that was stationed at Oxford airport. I had learned to play the Sir Richard card immediately on any business deal in the UK.
It got me through to the Managing Director. I asked if they leased 707s wet and if the interiors could be modified.
I quickly learned for enough money I could have training wheels on the wings if I wanted them. I passed on the training wheels and described the interior I was looking for.
It would be no problem. All it would take is time and money. They could meet my March 20th requirement. This was the beginning of the three-week break between terms. I then made an appointment for Tuesday afternoon to put down a deposit and settle the details.
I sat through my economics class feeling a bit smug as I thought I had the business challenge under control.
The Don must have read the look on my face as he called on me.
“Sir Richard, do you have anything to share with us on your project.”
“No Sir. Other than I have had an idea and turned it over to a prototyping firm to build a proof of concept model.”
“Capital!”
Class let out and I was walking to my next one when one of the army officers came running up to me.
“Sir Richard, they need you at The Meadows immediately.”
“What for?”
“I don’t know, something about the police, we just got a call at the Hall a few minutes ago.”
I ran to my garage and fired up my Aston Martin. It was crowded in there as the Ferrari was also parked inside.
I took off in a flash, as I was turning onto the road to The Meadows, I saw a caravan of police cars heading, towards my garage, at least that’s what it looked like.
Fortunately, there were no dogs or small children on the road as I sped along. One cyclist was shaking his fist at me when I roared by him.
I did a sliding stop at home, there must have been ten police cars in the yard. At the front door, Mr. Hamilton was standing like Horatio at the bridge.
The crowd of coppers split apart as I approached the door. I called them coppers because they weren’t dressed as bobbies on the street but like they were going to war. There were several men in suits.
I asked, “Mr. Hamilton, what do we have here?”
“Sir Richard, these gentlemen desire to have a conversation with you, they have a warrant with your name.”
The way he said gentlemen left no doubt that he considered them anything but that.
Pushing his way to me, a senior officer, I think an Inspector if I read his credentials correctly asked, “Are you, Sir Richard Jackson?”
“Yes, I am.”
“We have a warrant to search the premises for a longbow and hunting or war arrows.”
“May I see the warrant?”
About that time one of the men in suits said, “We don’t have time for this, get on with it.”
The Inspector handed me the warrant saying, “Sir Richard is within his rights in seeing the warrant before it is executed. It’s not as if it was for high treason, it is only murder, and in another country at that.”
That told me a lot right there.
I perused the document then said, “I don’t understand, I did kill a man in Germany in self-defense but it was with my bare hands. I don’t know what this has to do with a bow and arrows. I will concede the warrant is legal, but I will contest the grounds. Detective, please follow me.”
I lead them to the back of the house to the weapons room. There racked were the estate's shotguns and hunting rifles. Also, my bow and arrows were there.
“Please notice Inspector these two bows are not longbows and the arrows are field points.”
The guy in the suit asked how we could tell if it were a longbow.
The Inspector answered, “Any longbow used by Sir Richard would be almost as tall as he is, much taller than you.”
“As far as the type of point these are very distinctive field points as opposed to hunting or war points. Those are designed to rip and tear flesh, both going in and out. These will not.”
“Confiscate them anyway.”
I spoke up, “Inspector I would like a receipt for anything you take.”
“Certainly, Sir Richard.”
“Be very clear that these arrows have the fletching and markings of the Shawnee Indian Tribe.”
“How can I tell that, Sir Richard?”
I led him and his entourage to the library where I pulled out one of my books, which described the arrows used by the various tribes.
The Inspector was very meticulous in writing down the author, title, edition, and publisher of the book along with the description given.
“These arrows match the description.”
The guy in the suit spoke up again, “Enough of this, toss the house, is how I think you say it.”
The Inspector got a very pained look.
“Sir Richard, I’m afraid we have to do a thorough search of the premises as Mr. Ramsey has stated.”
“Just who is Mr. Ramsey?”
“He is with the Home Office, they are acting on instruction from the Foreign Office…”
I finished for him, “And they are acting on a request from the East Germans.”
He nodded.
“Inspector, did you get a chance to read this warrant thoroughly.”
“No, Sir Richard, this was sprung on us this morning.”
“Please read the part of what search is authorized.”
He read it and with a barely contained smile told the man from the Home Office.
“This warrant specifically states a search may be made of the weapons storage at the estate known as The Meadows.”
I thought the man from the Home Office was going to have a fit but the Inspector would not budge.
The Inspector speaking to me asked, “Sir Richard do you own a longbow and arrows with hunting or war points.”
“Yes, I do.”
The man from the Home Office jumped at this, “We got you! Where are they?”
“They are in storage where I always keep them.”
The Inspector had to ask, “Where is that?”
“They are kept in the Yeoman’s armory in the Tower of London. I’m certain that when you check you will find they have not left the armory for some time now. I have been delinquent in my practice.”
I thought about the actual bow I had used in Germany. It was broken and buried in a ditch in the forest. The fletching was pulled off the arrows and drifted in the wind. The war points were at the bottom of a pond. The wooden bodies of the arrows were in another ditch.
The man from Home Office gave a nasty laugh, “If we are lucky they will be in his garage which has been searched by now. They will have torn the place apart.”
“If you have a car there they will have dismantled it.”
When you don’t want to show weakness you pretend indifference.
“It is only a Ferrari. I’m sure your department can have it repaired. I know of a good shop in London.”
The Inspector looked like he had swallowed a green apple. Mr. Ramsey turned red in the face. Several of bobby’s in the background had to stifle their laughter.
I was given a receipt, the police then packed up and left. I noticed that all the police had wiped their feet so they wouldn’t mess up the carpeting. Mr. Ramsey didn’t. Just one more item on his debt.
I drove back to the garage. The police had searched the place but hadn’t damaged the car. I mean, where could you hide a six-foot longbow and yard-long arrows in a Ferrari?
Chapter 4
Tuesday morning I skipped classes and straightened up my garage. The police hadn’t destroyed it, but they had dismantled anything that looked like it might conceal a longbow. Well, I would have to buy a new couch as they had ripped out the seams on the back.
I also called everyone that I could think of that might be interested. Everyone, but the press that is.
Mr. Norman was the most interested. He spent time questioning me about Mr. Ramsey. He thought he knew who he was. From the direction of the questions, I got the impression he didn’t have too high of an opinion of the man.
He told me he would file a complaint with the Home Office on my behalf about issuing a warrant with no grounds. He wanted to keep stirring the pot, plus put them on warning the Palace was interested.
Mum was home, Dad wasn’t. She told me to keep on my normal routine and watch my back. She didn’t doubt that I was being followed.
“They are out to get you, Rick, have no doubt.”
They being the Soviets and their partners. What had I ever done to them, except upset their plans for world domination?
In the afternoon I kept my appointment with the aircraft leasing company. They were very amiable and ready to accommodate my every wish. I wondered about that because every serious business I had dealt with before had balked at my youth and possible ability to pay.
When I mentioned that the Managing Director chuckled.
“We get enough people trying to con us out of an aircraft that we automatically run a check on them. It was easy to find out who your bank is, and from there a simple phone call told us we wanted to do business with you.”
I thought that was a wonderful approach and wished more would practice it.
He walked me through how they approach my request. The interior of the aircraft would be done in modules bolted to the floor. Very much like my cargo handling containers.
When I expressed that thought he said, “Exactly. We copied your thought. all it is a series of your containers set up as each room.”
“To accomplish this, we are having to lease an aircraft that was built to serve as a cargo aircraft or a passenger line, depending on the needs of the moment. That’s the only way we could set it up to get the prefabricated interior modules in more or less intact.”
“The lease of the aircraft will be different than the containerized rooms. Those you can buy outright for your reserved use or you can lease them from us, and we will lease them to others at request.”
“I will purchase them upfront. That way they won't get damaged from others using them.’
I also privately thought, and no one will place spy devices in them.
“When not in use I will want them sealed and placed in a bonded warehouse.”
“We can do that. I think I understand what you are implying and that is an interesting perspective. We could sell some units based on that concept. Some people are very concerned about their privacy.”
He then invited an engineer and an interior designer to discuss the specifics of what I wanted.
I hadn’t given it any thought beyond the functional items, bedroom, office, kitchen, dining area, and sitting area.
Working with a long narrow aluminum tube was somewhat limiting but it all could be done. I remarked it would be nice if someone produced a wide-body jet. They agreed it would be nice but didn’t know of any in the works.
As far as the interior design went I asked the designer to tour my suite in London at the Plaza. It would give him an idea of what I liked. He thought that was a great idea, so I called the hotel then and there to put him on the allowed visitor's list on a limited basis.
They assured me that they could have everything in place by the required term break. I had explained I had to do a quick trip to many worldwide locations but didn’t want to get behind on everything else while doing so.
The engineer asked, “Where do you want your secretary's office and quarters?”
That question floored me. I had never had a secretary that would travel with me. I had a secretary pool in California but not a dedicated person who went with me.
A picture of a pretty female flicked through my mind, then Nina’s reaction. This was followed by a motherly and then a grandmotherly type, with my reaction to them. A fine-featured man appeared and disappeared, with me almost shuddering.
“I don’t think I will need one, I haven’t needed one in the past, so I don’t want to start now.”
We played around with configurations for another hour. It ended up from front to back first a general first-class seating area, then a sitting room, adjacent to a dining area, followed by a kitchen, then the office, after that my bedroom, and then a large closet.
The office would have hookups that could plug into local phone systems. The closet would be almost a full container in itself as I would have another copy of my wardrobe made and placed there. I had learned you never knew what clothes you would need. I did plan to leave out my Scout and Civil War uniforms.
Wednesday was a day of lectures. I enjoyed the learning and the company of people my age. I was jealous of the time it took.
I spent Wednesday afternoon typing up papers that would be due later this term. I had a real advantage over most of the other students in that I had my library so reference books were available in need. I didn’t have to chase books down that might be loaned out or wait in line for them, or have them restricted to library use only.
The copy machine was a wonder. How did we work without one in the past?
As I typed I wondered how Prettyman was doing with my prototype. It would do no good to call them as all they could say was that it was in process. If there were any problems they would contact me.
I called Nina in the evening. She was all excited because her pictures had been taken and Mary’s production company had approved her as the lead model.
The key to that statement was ‘the lead model’. It turned out that they wanted her help in picking out other girls to model with her.
Talk about social power. She could recommend classmates. They would have to fit the criteria, but she got to put them forward.
They wanted all sizes and looks so that girls her age would identify with one of them.
Paybacks were going to be hell. Her words, not mine. I asked her if she had talked to Mary about this. She had, Mary had given her the term. Patty was really in the doghouse.
Thursday and Friday were school days. It felt strange doing nothing but going to class or homework. You would think I was a student or something!
Saturday I spent at Pinewood Studios. I was doing the voice-overs for the documentary on the new containerized shipping business and what it would do to world trade.
It was strange sitting in a studio and reading a script without any pictures to go with it. Some of it was hard to put together but I managed. At least I managed to read the script smoothly without odd stops and starts.
At one break I was asked to stop by the office to talk about the scripts that they had given me. I expressed interest in the bookstore owner part and playing the young prime minister.
We talked about the fact a stir would be created by a ‘Yank’ playing the part of a British Prime Minister. It gave us a chuckle and we all agreed that it would give the movie a good buzz.
They would send contracts for the two movies to Sharon Wallace for her and legal’s to review. If all went well we could start work next week on the first one with a preproduction meeting. That would be ‘Edgware’, about the bookstore owner.
From Pinewood, instead of returning home, I drove on into London and spent the night in my suite. For some reason, I was more relaxed there than at The Meadows. It may have something to do with I never knew what my Grand Mum and her expanding circle of friends might be up to.
It is very disconcerting to walk down the backstairs in your underwear to grab a midnight snack and walk into a roomful of old ladies performing a séance.
Later I was told that I had been the highlight of their evening and that I could prance around like that anytime I wanted.
No thank you.
Sunday after a late brunch I drove over to the Tower and asked to be let into the armory. The duty Sargent had my name so he retrieved my bow and arrows.
I checked that the arrows were all there and nothing had been tampered with. I explained what was going on to the Sergeant and he made a note that no one was allowed to see much less touch them without my express approval.
If someone showed up with a warrant, they were to contact Mr. Norman at the Palace. I added that they could feel free to keep that person in the dungeon but was told the dungeon no longer met prisoner housing requirements. No telly.
We laughed about that. There are no real dungeon cells as we thought of them in the Tower.
Chapter 5
I drove back to The Meadows late Sunday to be ready for school on Monday. There was a small package waiting for me in my office.
I opened it to find an invitation to the inauguration of John Fitzgerald Kennedy as the 35th President of the United States of America on Friday, January 20th, 1961. There would be a ball at the Willard House that evening, I and one guest were invited to the function. RSVP.
Wow! I had just barely met the man. I certainly would be going. I filled out the RSVP at once and got it ready to mail. I did make a copy of everything for posterity and to make certain I relayed the details correctly to Nina who I planned to invite as my guest.
Almost as an afterthought, I called Jackson House for Mum and Dad. I relayed the exciting news. They congratulated me. Then they let me know they would be attending the inauguration ball at The White House.
I didn’t know there were multiple balls that evening. It seemed there were like seven of them. My parents were invited to the most prestigious, I was at number two. I asked how you got invited to each level. They didn’t know all of them.
They did know that the highest level was for major donors and strong supporters. My level was for people who Kennedy wanted to turn into major donors and who had high social influence.
It descended to level seven. These were the people who had knocked on doors and planted yard signs. At that level, they had to pay to attend.
The President and Jackie would make appearances at all seven balls. What a hard night for them!
“I didn’t know you guys were such strong supporters of the Democrats.”
“That would be your Dad. That is why we are invited.
“What if Nixon had won?”
“Then the invitation would have been to me as a strong Republican donor.”
“So it’s both ends against the middle?”
“Now you understand politics Rick, you have to have a foot in both camps so that no matter who wins you have a voice.”
I didn’t know quite what to make of that, so I dropped that part of the conversation. Mum let me know that Nina and I could stay at their house in Georgetown.
I didn’t even know the family had a house in Georgetown. We agreed to keep in contact with the arrangements.
After hanging up I called Nina. I played it coy. I told her if she didn’t have any plans for January 20th, a Friday, I would like to take her on a date.
“I would be delighted, Rick. Where are we going so I know what to wear?”
“Not much, just an inaugural ball for John F. Kennedy in Washington, D.C.”
I love it when I can drop a bomb like that.
“What?! Yes, but I have to go shopping. What do you even wear to an event like that?”
“I’m sure that Mary’s collection has something in it, the latest in pinafores or whatever.”
“Men!”
“Or you could call my Mum. She and Dad are attending one of the balls.”
I then had to explain my new knowledge of the different inaugural balls. And that we would be staying at my parent's house in Georgetown.
“Please take care of the travel arrangements and I will take care of my outfits and ensure you have the proper wear.”
That sounded like a good division of labor to me.
After that, the conversation went onto more mundane subjects of how the East Germans had connived to have my house searched for the longbow and war arrows that had killed those two guys.
She asked me what I was going to do. I told her there was nothing I could do. They had made a legal request which was honored by Her Majesty’s government. I did wonder how much influence the communists had in the government.
Nina in turn told me how the snobs were practically begging her to be models. It was so much fun. The news about the ball would be the icing on the cake.
She wondered if she could get a picture of herself with Jackie. I made a mental note to make arrangements with the White House.
I just hoped her school wasn’t into hair pulling and eye scratching.
Tuesday was a regular school day. That is, I attended my lectures. It seemed I missed as many as I attended but the notes kept me up to date on those classes I skipped. I was fortunate in that the classes I had stuck to their notes fairly well.
I had learned to be careful in picking my classes.
Wednesday I drove over to Pinewood Studios, this was the day of the preproduction meeting. The cast would get to know each other a little. We would go over the shooting schedule and do a run-through of a draft of the script.
The movie, ‘Edgware’ didn’t have a large cast. There were the male and female leads and then some supporting cast. No one could be classified as a second lead. The movie had a lot of dialog between the actress and me.
It quickly became apparent that everyone but me had worked together before. It was like an old home week for them. They also appeared to a snobbish bunch as they did no more than acknowledge my presence.
I had run into similar situations in Hollywood, so I didn't let it get to me. The schedule was discussed, and the Director kept deferring to me as to my availability. This finally resulted in several snide remarks.
I refused to react, letting the remarks roll by me.
Their words meant little to me. Now if they had started shooting like the Russians or East Germans it would have been different.
Copies of the draft script were handed out. We each read our part in turn. I kept my British accent all the way. It was almost more natural than my American by this point in time.
One of the things we were looking for were sentences that didn’t roll off our tongues. It would be easier to modify them than to try to learn them.
There was one spot that just didn’t read right for any of us. At one point the actress, a young lady named Ann Briton, told me she loved me.
My response didn’t ring true. As a group we all made suggestions. None of them worked. Finally on one read through she said, “I love you.”
In a smart-aleck way, I responded, “I know.”
It wasn’t meant to be serious but it stopped the whole crowd.
The Director said, “That’s it.”
For once everyone agreed. That was my only contribution to the script.
As the session was ending the Director asked if we could meet tomorrow. Everyone could, but a page knocked on the door and handed a letter to the Director.
He looked at it and handed it to me. It was from the Palace. I read a note from Mr. Norman who told me the Queen requested my presence at the Palace to assist her tomorrow morning.
I apologized to the Director as the Queen had summoned me. She had a dog that needed to be robbed.
The only one who laughed at that was a senior stage manager who must have been in the service.
Arriving on time at the Palace in full uniform I was escorted to Mr. Norman’s office. After the pleasantries, I asked what I had been summoned for.
“Not much, old boy. We recommended that you be called in on at least a monthly basis so a record could be created of your duties being more than ceremonial.”
The Crown gets criticized for having people on staff for no good reason, so we have to show that you are working. At this point, we are reluctant to send you to Europe because of East German’s”
“They don’t want to give up on getting you into their custody. You wounded their pride. Even their Russian masters haven’t been able to restrain them.”
“One good thing that has come out of it is the orders for the warrant to search your properties originated with a group of Don’s that we have been watching at Cambridge. We will be watching them even closer now and if they are Soviet moles we will use them for false information.”
“As to what you have been summoned for, Her Majesty is aware that you will be attending a Presidential Inaugural Ball. She is sending a formal note to President Kennedy, but will have you deliver a personal note for her.”
“That sounds easy enough.”
“Sometimes it is.”
“So what else do I do today?”
“Take the day off?”
“What a wonderful idea.”
I left the Palace and went to the hotel where I changed into casual clothes, and walked the rainy streets of London looking into shop windows. It was a wonderful day.
I flew back home late in the afternoon and listened to the latest rock and roll records. It was relaxing.
Chapter 6
This Friday was Kennedy’s Inauguration Ball. I had to make certain that all my ducks were in a row. Nina was flying to London on Wednesday. I would meet her there at my hotel suite and we would fly to DC on Thursday.
I double-checked with Mum the address of their house in Georgetown. The Ball was white tie so Mr. Hamilton packed me an outfit. This was one of the few times I had luggage with me.
I went ahead and chartered a plane for the trip. I was getting used to the thought of having money that I could spend. It would only be about ten thousand dollars. Yeah, only ten thousand dollars, watch it, Ricky, you will get a big head.
It was another 707, I wish they would make smaller jets for groups of ten or so people.
Anyway, Nina came in on Wednesday and we had a nice evening in London, going to a play.
It was called “Beyond the Fringe” at the Fortune Theater. I liked the lead guy, Dudley Moore. I thought he would do well.
In the morning we went out to Heathrow’s general aviation area to catch our flight. I had had the hotel take our luggage to the plane the evening before. I did think to ask if it made it okay. It had.
Nina had never been on a charter of a large jet before so she was amazed at how empty it looked. The charter company had a deluxe package of meals and refreshments aboard.
For the price, they should have. That said, it was a smooth flight to Washington, DC. We both had school work to do while we flew. The booth with a table in the first-class cabin helped.
We took a break and had a wonderful meal. The hostess offered us wine or beer with our meal, but we both declined. I drank beer in England occasionally. I didn’t want to make it a habit.
I think Nina may have been following my lead.
We touched down on time in DC. The plane would be there to take us back on Sunday morning. It would fly to Switzerland, drop Nina off, and then take me to London.
They had another trip the next day so the plane wouldn’t sit idle.
A limo had been arranged by Mum to take us to Georgetown. I was glad. Washington traffic was bad on a Thursday night. I guessed that it would be any night. It would help when the interstate around the city was complete, as there would be no traffic congestion then.
Mum and Dad were there. The kids were still in California with Mrs. Hernandez. Mum had promised her a trip to Spain if she would put up with them for the weekend.
She would have done it anyway, but Mum and Dad were always trying to find ways to give her something nice. She was a loyal member of our family.
I asked Mum if Mrs. Hernandez was seeing anyone. It appears Mrs. Hernandez was the hit of the Latin community. It helped that she had Jackson Charities, Mum, on her side. She was being escorted to an event every week.
I got the impression these events could take several days. Go for it, Mrs. Hernadez.
The first order of business was to get Nina and I settled into our bedrooms, no sharing in this house! Mum believed in appearances.
From what I had picked up from Grand Mum, it was “Do as I say, not as I do.”
At least when she was younger.
Now that she was a Mum herself things were going to be different.
We didn’t burst her bubble.
Mum went to help Nina settle in, leaving me with Dad. I think there was a scheme at work here.
“Rick, how serious are you and Nina?”
“We aren’t planning to get married anytime soon if that is what you are asking.”
“I guess I was. You used the word soon, does that mean you have plans?”
“The only discussion on marriage we have had is that we are too young to even think about it and that we will not have children before we are married, if we get married, that is. Answer enough?”
“Don’t get snotty with me young man. I’m still your father and can knock your block off.”
Dad and I eyed each other. After looking up at me, he backed down first.
“I think I could knock it off anyway.”
“Dad I don’t think we will ever find out.”
That was very gracious of me as I knew he could knock my block off. As a Captain in the MP’s, he had to fight some tough characters. The fact of the matter was that I would stand there and let him hit me before I would fight him.
“Rick, your Mum and I have watched you grow up fast in the last few years and we want the best for you. Nina may be the woman for you, but as you said you are both too young to know. We do worry you know.”
We had a few more words of no import and I went to change for dinner. It was a suit and tie event with a combination of business people and politicians. Twenty of us sat down to dinner in my parents ‘small’ Georgetown house.
There were seating assignments so Nina and I were separated. I was in between a portly Senator who droned on about some bill and a recent twenty-some-year-old divorcee. She was on the hunt.
I found the Senator’s bill on imports to be fascinating.
After dinner, Nina and I hid out on the open back porch. She told me about her grilling from Mum. I shared my experience with Dad. We both had been consistent in our story so that should take care of that for a while.
It did allow me to ask, “Would you marry me?”
She jumped up and hugged me and said, “Oh yes Rick I will marry you!”
I almost fell off the back steps I was so flustered.
“I didn’t mean it that way. No, I meant at some future date. No, I don’t know what I meant.”
“Silly, I knew exactly what you were asking, and yes, you are on my shortlist.”
“How short is your list?”
“You are the only one right now, but who knows what the future may bring?”
This was my night for talking myself into problems. I think it was that word ‘marry’ that was throwing me off my stride.
“Rick, I like you a lot, and maybe even love you, but it is too soon and you know it.”
“Yes, I do.”
“Good, now kiss me good night.”
Some instructions I can follow very well.
The next day was a rush. The ball was that evening, so the Ladies had to have their hair done and all those other mystical things that women do.
Dad and I watched our new President being sworn in. He and President Eisenhower seemed to get along.
Dad told me that Ike had thought JFK was too young for the job, a whippersnapper who had got elected on his Daddy’s money. Then said after he talked to him Ike thought JFK was brilliant.
The conversation didn’t give me a chance to ask Dad how he knew this. I had thought he and Ike didn’t get along.
The ball that Nina and I attended was almost anticlimactic. It was a crowded hot room full of smoke. The President and Jackie made an appearance. They walked around the room greeting people.
They did stop at our table and the photographer accompanying them took pictures of us together. At least Nina would have her evidence for her school friends that she met Jackie.
For her part, Jackie was very nice. She acted impressed when she asked when Nina was flying home. I guess saying our chartered jet was leaving in the morning said something.
I had a chance to pass the Queen's note to the new President. He did a double-take when he saw the Royal crest.
“I had forgotten about your connections, Sir Richard or should I say Colonel?”
He may forget some things but not many.
“Rick will do, Mr. President.”
He smiled at that, “It is nice to hear that. One could get used to it.”
When the President and First Lady left, so did Nina and me. Our limo driver was with a bunch of others in a special parking area. When we went to retrieve our coats our car was called.
I noticed she had a pillbox hat like the first lady. What a spy ring the women had. I was glad I only had to fight the KGB or the Stasi.
The next morning we had breakfast with Mum and Dad, who from their good cheer had had a successful trip. From there we went back to the airport and flew back to Switzerland for Nina and then I got dropped off in London, from whence I then flew myself back to Oxford.
What a weekend. I loved the word whence and tried to work it in when I could.
Chapter 7
Monday started as another boring school week. I had taken to eating lunch at Rawdon-Hastings Hall or RH as it was becoming known.
The food was good. The only thing that I had to dodge was dinner invitations. I found out that a dinner invitation was a polite way of saying, “There is this girl we would like you to meet.”
These invitations were given at the direction of the various wives. It appeared there was nothing more frustrating to a young married lady than that an eligible bachelor is out there and he might get away from her perfect friend.
I started carrying a picture of Nina in her mini-skirt around and showing it to all the guys when any hints of dinner were brought up. I finally realized these poor guys had no choice in the matter, if they didn’t issue an invitation they would have a miserable weekend.
They were off the hook if it was issued in front of witnesses and I declined. This quickly became an unspoken game between us guys. They had a duty to perform and they did it.
Other than that the lunches were fun. I got to meet a lot of guys around my age. If they were American we talked about sports. Everyone else I quizzed about their country and military establishments.
One hot topic of conversation was that the Dutch army was considering unionizing. We couldn’t visualize how this might or could work. Trying to imagine a wildcat strike in the middle of a firefight was mind-boggling.
We made many a joke about that. No Dutch soldiers were attending Oxford to our knowledge. We decided that while it was fun to joke about it, it would never happen and if it did it would be a disaster.
I ran into my drinking buddies, Tom, Steve, and Bill at the Dog and Crown after lunch on Friday afternoon. I had decided to skip the afternoon lecture. The Prof was an absolute slave to his notes. I could read in twenty minutes what it took him an hour and a half to lecture on.
We all bemoaned the fact that the English weather was so damp and cloudy. We would have loved to see some sunshine.
I think we all had the thought at the same time. Nice is nice! Let's go to the Riveria for the weekend!
We all headed back to our respective digs and packed for a casual weekend. Being the cautious sort, I also rolled up a sport coat and tie in case something a little more formal came up.
I called The Meadows and left word where I was going and that I would be back late Sunday or maybe Monday if the weather was nice in Nice.
We met at my garage, where Bill Benton picked us up in his four-door sedan. On arriving at the airport, I had to check over the aircraft, and file a flight plan.
While I was doing this the guys were in the Flight Center flirting with the Hostess. I knew she was married but let them have their fun. She seemed to be enjoying it.
We were in the air when I told them she had three kids at home. That didn’t seem to faze them at all.
We had a good flight, exchanging jokes all the way. We refueled and had a pit stop in Paris but made it as quick as we could. It was still daylight when we landed in Nice but not by much. After landing, I called home, Mr. Hamilton who told me that his mission was successful. He had reserved a suite for us at the Hotel Negresco.
When we checked in we were welcomed by Jeanne Augier, the owner. She had bought the place in 1957 and was turning it into a work of art, a museum in its own right.
Someone yelled, “Hey, Tom and Rick!” as we were getting onto the elevator. It was Paul from the Beatles, I had met the band in Liverpool with Tom. I had briefly owned some of the rights to the band but had given them up. That was beginning to look like a mistake.
That was water over the dam. The band was here to play a special request for Princess Grace. They would have stayed at the Casino hotel in Monaco but they were banned, something about two goats and a llama.
Some things you are better off not knowing.
After dumping our stuff we met in the bar. One thing about the Beatles was that if they were there, the girls were there.
We had a good time, I made certain I was never in a compromising position. The last thing I needed was for Nina to see my picture in the paper with some floozy.
The next morning was hard on my crew. They had partied hard. I got smart and only drank a couple of beers. I went to bed around eleven. They went out to the historic old town area of Nice and found a bar ‘L’Oxford.’ Of course, they had to close it up. 5 am!
Since they all had on their Oxford sweatshirts they drank free most of the night. They had a good time if they could only remember it. All I heard were groans when I got up. No one wanted to run with me!
The band was still up when I left but must have kept saner hours, as they were in the lobby when I got back from my morning run.
We went to breakfast together. John joked about how I had missed making my fortune by selling my share of the band. I replied that I would bear with it. Some of us had to take what life gave us and if being poor was to be my lot, so be it. I tried not to smirk when I said that.
I received a breakfast roll up the side of the head from Ringo for that remark. They had a pretty good idea of my worth. It had now been in almost every newspaper in the world. My days of anonymity were over.
They invited me to go with them to check out their setup at the Palace in Monaco. Having nothing better to do and knowing my friends wouldn’t be up until dinner time, I agreed to the trip.
The band's road crew had set up the equipment yesterday. All they had to do was some sound checks for their later performance.
I sat in the back of the room while this was going on. I called it a room but it was more like a miniature concert hall in the Grimaldi Palace.
As the band was tuning up two children came in, a girl about four and a two-year-old boy following her. It didn’t require much brainpower to figure out the young royals had escaped from their Nanny.
I invited them to sit down and listen to what was going on. Princess Caroline informed me that we hadn’t been introduced do she couldn’t talk to me.
Not talking didn’t include not sitting next to me. Albert, the two-year-old held up his arms, so I picked him up and set him in my lap.
It took the Prince about two minutes to fall asleep.
Princess Caroline thought this was enough of an introduction that she confided in me that she thought Paul was rather good looking. I didn’t see it myself but who was I to argue with Her Grace?
Speaking of Her Grace, the Royal Mum herself appeared hunting for her children. She held out her arms for Albert, who I gladly surrendered. He had slobbered all over my shirt.
Princess Caroline thanked me for my hospitality and took her mother's hand and left. Less than a minute later a beefy looking guy in a suit and tie set down next to me.
“That was nice of you to look out for the children. May I ask your name?”
“Sir Richard Jackson. I’m here at the invitation of the band for their setup.”
“I thought it might be something like that. Thank you for being cooperative.”
I didn’t give it another thought, but the telephone must have been ringing off the hook. The band finished up and we were back in the hotel within the hour.
Waiting at the front desk was an invitation to the Prince’s Palace to a performance by the Beatles this evening.
The dress was a sports coat and tie, very informal. My packing the same turned out to be genius. Well, lucky, anyway.
The boys were up and having a late lunch in the restaurant so I joined them as I hadn’t anything since breakfast.
They wanted to know if I wanted to go to L’Oxford with them this evening. I told them I had another engagement so couldn’t join them.
They wanted to know who she was so I told them it was a young lady named Caroline. They fell for it hook, line, and sinker. I couldn’t wait until the trip home.
Chapter 8
I had to take a cab separately to the Palace for the performance because the band wanted to double-check the setup. One thing I admired about them was their work ethic. To many, they appeared to be a classic drugged-out group but nothing could have been further from the truth.
When they partied it was hard, but when they worked they were professional.
My invitation got me into the Palace with no problem. I had to wait a few minutes as enough guests assembled.
I was really glad I had packed a sport coat and tie, I fit right in.
Five minutes before the concert the royal family walked in. They were dressed like the rest of us, except for Princess Caroline. She had on a ‘Feed the Puppies,’ T-shirt.
I was on an end seat in the aisle so she walked right by me.
I said, “I love your T-shirt.”
“This is part of the Mary Jackson collection. She is the absolute best.”
“I think so too.”
Her Mum was standing right there and made a sound of disagreement.
“What’s wrong with the Mary Jackson Collection?”
“The clothes are very nice and well made, but they are not what a young Princess would wear on many an occasion. But if it isn’t from Mary Jackson, Caroline won’t wear it.”
“What types of clothes aren’t in her collection?”
“What a young lady would wear on a formal occasion.”
“Hmm, I’ll talk to her about that.”
A wide-eyed Caroline who had been listening to the exchange asked, “You know Mary Jackson?”
“She is my little sister.”
About this time the band was ready to start so they moved on, but I knew that I would be hearing more on the subject.
As soon as the band had finished for the night a four, almost five years old came running up to me.
“Are you her big brother?”
“Yes, I am.”
“She is the neatest! I love her ads on ‘Feed the Puppies.’ Her clothes are the bestest.”
“I will tell her that.”
Princess Grace caught up with her child.
“Your Majesty, I have had a thought that I would like to discuss with you.”
“What is that?”
“Maybe Mary needs a Princess Collection. To do that she would need some royal motherly advice.”
“I would be glad to comment if it would get Caroline into proper clothes. However, I cannot commercially endorse anything.”
“You wouldn’t have to. In my experience, that sort of thing comes out anyway and is all the better for being a ‘discovered’ secret. I also know another Princess that loves Mary’s clothes.”
“Who would that be?”
“It would be Princess Anne of England.”
“I’ll ring up Elizabeth and we will see what we can do.”
“I will let Mary know the opportunity. She can talk to her clothing company to see if they would be interested. I don’t see it as a high volume line, but more for the prestige.”
“I think you will be surprised about how many young ladies would love to wear clothes that Princesses wear.”
“I will call Mary tonight as it won’t be her bedtime when I get back to the hotel. Thank you for inviting me for the evening, I have enjoyed it very much.”
About that time Princess Caroline asked for my autograph. I pulled out one of my publicity pictures and signed it, Sir Richard Jackson, Mary’s big brother to her fan Princess Caroline.”
I knew who got top billing on this one.
Returning to the hotel I called the US. It was midnight here and three in the afternoon there. I told Mary where I had been and who I had met.
Being the little business shark she is, she immediately started to talk about the possibilities. I gave her Princess Grace's number and told her I was now out of it.
She thanked me then asked how much of a commission I expected. I pretended I was wounded that she thought her big brother would charge her for help.
I had forgotten that Mary was only six. She immediately started to cry. At first, I thought she was faking it, then realized I had upset her.
About that time Mum stepped in and I had to explain myself. I received a lecture on the tender sensibilities of young ladies. She also thought the Princess Collection was a wonderful idea and would make certain that Mary followed through.
Knowing the shark as I did I wasn’t concerned about her following through. I still wasn’t convinced she wasn’t faking the whole thing. I know the upshot was that there was no more talk of a commission. Dang! I wanted a new car cover for the Aston-Martin.
I was asleep less than an hour when the phone rang. My good buddies needed bailing out of jail.
It appears after a night of drinking they decided to get some souvenirs from Monaco. They thought a license plate would be nice. They were rare as there weren’t that many cars in Monaco.
There had been so many stolen over the years that they didn’t use the normal method of attaching the plate with screws. They mounted them with pop rivets.
My good buddies didn’t know that, so messed around making enough of a racket the police were called. They were now in custody.
They needed someone to come down and post bail for them or they would be stuck in jail until Monday morning.
I gave serious thought to letting them sit but realized that they would have no way to get home, and they didn’t need to miss Monday's classes.
A taxi dropped me off at the station. I requested the driver wait while I bailed my friends out. The desk sergeant or whatever his title was had questions for me. Like was I with them and got away?
“No Sir, I wasn’t with them this evening.”
“Where were you?”
“At the Palace attending a band performance.”
He took the time to call the Palace Security to confirm my story. He also wanted to look at my identification. My diplomatic passport settled the issue. I was allowed to post bail.
Steve, Tom, and Bill were brought out. What a sad looking group. I hustled them into the waiting cab and got them back to the hotel.
I wasn’t the happiest person in the world right then so at four in the morning I told them to be packed and ready to go to the airport for the trip home. No one argued.
They were sitting in the lobby when I came down at nine o’clock. I had my sleep out. Did I mention that I wasn’t happy with them?
There were no complaints. They knew they had screwed up. I walked over to the concierge's desk and paid for a package they had waiting for me.
Returning to my chums I opened it and gave each of them a coveted license plate cover that had been purchased this morning at a local shop.
We then started for the airport. We had to delay leaving the hotel as Bill had to make an urgent trip to the WC to throw up.
They wouldn’t forget last night for a while. At the airport, among my preflight items, I double-checked that we had a dozen air sickness bags on board.
They were needed before we got back to England. It seemed that we had to go through every bumpy cloud along the way. Did I mention I wasn’t happy?
As they dropped me off at my garage they all apologized. I accepted the apology but told them they still had to pay me back the bail money.
It was only like twenty-five dollars American so they could afford it. It was very much the principle of the thing.
Heads hung low, they promised. I then asked a question that I had wondered about on the trip but didn’t ask as I wasn’t speaking to them.
“Did you have a good time at L’Oxford?”
This livened them up as they assured me they had a wonderful time. I was asked about my evening and told them it turned out to be a business deal for my little sister.
They looked bewildered and nodded at that but they didn’t follow up.
I drove home to The Meadows and took a nap. After lunch, I called the US and talked to Dad. He told me that they would be contacting me for Mary's company, meeting Nina and the other new models early Monday as a trip to Switzerland in two weeks was being put together.
The trip was a combination of business meeting models and putting together the Princess Collection with some professional Princess advice.
I was invited as I was the one person who knew all the major players. It promised to be an interesting meeting.
Chapter 9
The school week was a normal boring week. The highlight was when my friends came to apologize and repay their bail money. I let them off easy. No Way! I lectured them until Tom poured a pint over my head. All was well in our world.