The Richard Jackson Saga

Book 11: Interesting Times

By Ed Nelson

 

Other books by Ed Nelson

 

The Richard Jackson Saga

Book 1 The Beginning

Bookv2 Schooldays

Book 3 Hollywood!

Book 4 In the Movies

Book 5 Star to Deckhand

Book 6 Surfing Dude

Book 7 Third Time is a Charm

Book 8: Oxford University

Book 9: Cold War

Book 10: Taking Care of Business

 

Stand Alone Stories

Ever and Always

 

Dedication

 

 

 

This is dedicated to my wife Carol for her support and help as my first reader and editor.

 

 

Thanks to my Editors, Ernest Bywater, Lonelydad57, Old Rotorhead, and LON.

 

 

 

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.

 

ISBN 978-1953395-20-7

Table of Contents

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 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

 

On Tuesday, January 2nd I flew back to London on my jet. Nina was staying an extra week with her parents. Her school wasn’t back in session until the following Monday. It is just as well; things had been heating up with us and I don’t know what would have happened with the two of us alone for many hours and a bed right there.

We both agreed that is where we wanted to go but that it was too soon, we had some living to do before we settled down. Neither of us was the type to casually have sex, by our upbringing it would result in a lifelong commitment.

I had picked up copies of the LA Times and Variety to read on the flight.

I found it interesting that the US Navy created a group called Seals, formed from World War 2 groups known as the Scouts and Raiders. There would be two teams. There was Seal team 1 stationed on the Pacific, Team 2 on the Atlantic.

The article told how they traced their origins to the Scouts and Raiders, Naval Combat Demolition Units, Office of Strategic Services, Operational Swimmers, Underwater Demolition Teams, and  Motor Torpedo Boat Squadrons of World War II. It seemed to me like they were just rearranging deck chairs.

In Variety I learned that the Beatles auditioned with Decca records and they were turned down. I think someone at Decca will live to regret that decision.

I also read of the NBC Laramie peacock which had debuted last night. It was used to highlight their shows in color. The black and white programs were disappearing.

Dad had bought two color sets for Jackson House. One for the entertainment room and one for his and mum’s bedroom. How decadent!

I had a good night's sleep flying over the North Pole. They called it the polar route; I don’t know how close we had got. I didn’t care enough to go up front and ask.

When I first obtained this aircraft, I had all sorts of intentions of riding upfront and getting hours in. Somehow that wasn’t happening. I needed to decide and stick to it.

We landed in Oxford where the plane was based but I immediately went over to flight operations and filed a flight plan to London in my Cessna.

It was early morning here and I had a noon lunch meeting with Mr. Norman about my Queen’s Messenger Duties. I would be staying in London overnight. No rest for the wicked.

Harold had packed me an overnight bag and I had plenty of clothes at the Plaza. It is a wonder he didn’t have a full wardrobe there. I wasn’t going to mention it. I could afford it, but it seemed silly.

Lunch was those little watercress sandwiches with the crust trimmed off that I hate. I would have to get a snack to tide me over until dinner.

Some ham or beef on them would have helped, and maybe a slice of cheese with a little mustard and lose the watercress and keep the crust.

I didn’t say anything as he seemed to enjoy them. You can pick up a lot of bad habits over time.

The subject of my meeting was my trip. He wanted the highlights, not of my business but the political part. Mao’s death had come as a shocking surprise to the world.

A full-blown civil war was underway with the Deng Xiaoping following winning. They had support and weapons from some unknown source. They knew where the weapons were coming from, Russia, but they didn’t know who supplied the money.

I was in a quandary as I realized who was backing this revolution. Me! It didn’t take me long to decide to come clean. They would find out in the long run.

“I have guaranteed a one hundred-million-dollar loan through a bank in Switzerland for food and weapons. I did it to prevent mass starvation. I didn’t think at the time it would have much impact on the fighting.”

“You are telling me that as a private citizen without the backing of Her Majesties Government have financed a revolution?”

I responded with a hangdog sounding, yes, thinking I was about to get my head handed to me.

“Sir Richard, this is great. The government has deniability but when Deng wins, we can take credit.”

I didn’t think it would be that simple be kept my mouth shut.

“What was used to secure the loan and where is the paperwork.”

“There isn’t any.”

“What, paperwork or something to secure the loan?”

“Neither I sealed the deal with a handshake with Lady Ping.”

At this, his mouth worked for a moment as he tried to get some words out that wouldn’t form.

“You’re telling me that you know the Empress-in-Exile of China well enough to hand her a hundred million dollars on a handshake?”

“Yes, I like her and think she will be honest with me.”

“How long have you known her and how did you meet?”

“She has always been my contact at those dry-cleaning pickups.”

“We never suspected.”

I think Mr. Norman gave something away there; he was more connected with MI 6 than he let on. My name is Norman, John Norman. Nah it doesn’t have the ring to it.

“My head is spinning from the possible ramifications of this. Do you think Deng will take political power but put the Empress back on the throne?”

“I have no idea, though I would support that, she is good for China.”

“We have to discuss this with the Queen. She may want to recognize Lady Ping in the title in advance. It would open a lot of doors in China.”

“I can see that. Please let me know how that comes out.”

“Nonsense, you are coming with me.”

At that, he called the Queen's private secretary and made us an appointment just before dinner. This bummed me out as I wouldn’t be able to work in a snack before dinner.

We spent the rest of the afternoon going over possible scenarios to present to the Queen. I asked if the Prime Minister would be involved and was told that this was a chance for the Crown to be ahead of the politicians, so no.

They would be told just not upfront. They would try to take over this opportunity to normalize relations with China and bungle it as usual.

At long last, we were escorted into Her Majesty's presence. My stomach told me starvation was setting in. I knew better but tell that to my stomach.

The Queen listened calmly as though she heard about civil wars, enormous loans, weapon deals, and starving populations as though she heard them all the time. I guess maybe she had.

“The best outcome would be that Deng takes political power while putting the Empress back on the throne. What would happen to the Communist Party?”

“They would continue in power. The old guard members who are the true believers are dying out, if not outright being killed in the unpleasantness.”

“The newer younger members will be looking for changes, where they can come into the modern world and make money and obtain power. The current Chinese economy has been stagnant. There is no room for growth.”

“That sounds plausible Sir Richard. How would you proceed?”

“I would keep as close of contact as I can with Lady Ping. At the same time, I can shift my finances around so that I could free up another one hundred million to support the Deng group.”

“That is an awful risk you are taking. We cannot back your finances in any way.”

“I understand, but this is a rare opportunity to help half a billion people better their lives. Besides I’m only eighteen, I don’t need that sort of money. If I were still in Ohio, I would be doing good to have twenty dollars a week.”

“As it is, I could end up down to my last fifty million until I made more that is.”

“You poor boy, you go with our best wishes. Mr. Norman, stay for a word.”

I backed out of the small room thinking of food. Just outside the doorway, I had to stop for a footman carrying a load passing by with a heavy load.

I accidentally heard part of a conversation, well a few words, one of them was Dukedom. Nah.

I couldn’t get to Arthur Treacher’s place for fish and chips fast enough. I didn’t inhale them, but I ate them quickly, they were so good I had a second order.

From my hotel room, I placed a call to my parents updating them on my conversations of the afternoon with both Mr. Norman and the Queen.

I was urged to play this close to my vest. There was a good chance I would lose all my money and so be it. There was also a chance to do some real good in the world.

 

Chapter 2

Friday morning, I flew back to Oxford and returned to The Meadows. I had big plans for Friday night. I was to meet up with my friends from school and have a pub night.

I had the house to myself as Grand Mum and Mr. Hamilton were still in California enjoying the weather. I hadn’t seen their forecast, but it had to be better than England's cold and rain.

As to having the house to myself, the staff was still there. The cook made a wonderful Yorkshire pudding for dinner, so I was ready for a night out.

Bill, Tom, Steve, and I met at the Dog and Crown our favorite hangout. It had been a while since we had seen each other so we had a lot of updating to do over a pint or two.

Bill was doing well in school and was going to get a first.

Tom was hanging in there with his current girlfriend. He was a little nervous because she was making wedding hints. He wanted it and didn’t want it. I didn’t try to give any advice on this.

Steve let us know he was thinking about dropping out of school and joining the army. We had a go at him to find out what was causing this. It turned out his Dad’s business was in trouble and money was short.

That is one I could talk about.

“Steve would a loan help your father get back on his feet.”

“I think so; he says it was just a bad drop-off in business that caught him short. He went to his bank, but they refused him.”

I wrote my bank's name and the officer to contact and asked him to give it to his father.

“Rick, can’t ask you to do this.”

“You didn’t I volunteered. Do you know how much he needs?”

“He told me ten thousand pounds would do it.”

I pulled out my ever-present pocket notebook and wrote a reminder to call the bank early on Monday.

“I’m serious, do it, it is what friends do when they can, besides, you would be the sloppiest looking soldier in the history of soldiering.”

That last remark worked as intended as the other two piled on about what sort of soldier Steve would make. It relieved the tension and allowed us to get back to the serious business of drinking.

Since we had last met, I had been involved in that rescue in the creek, broke an arm, been made a Baron, killed a robber, and was in turn wounded by him. Then I made a business trip around the world.

In other words, the usual. They didn’t see it that way, but I had come to accept my life.

When I told them about my new jet they wanted to go somewhere. When they heard about the interior Tom had to ask, “Have you and Nina joined the the-mile-high club?”

“I’m not that sort of boy, but more realistically she isn’t that sort of girl.”

That impressed them, not about me but that Nina appeared to be playing a long game. According to them, I was done for.

That wasn’t a fate worse than death, so I didn’t react to their teasing.

They asked if since I was in Hong Kong did, I have any inside information on Chairman Mao’s death.

“Only what is in the papers and what Lady Ping told me. Oops, shouldn’t have said that.

“Who is Lady Ping?”

“The Empress in Exile of China.”

“Of course, you would know her. Next, we will hear you are helping her regain her throne.”

I tried not to react, but something gave me away. They jumped all over me, “You are! What are you doing financing their civil war?”

“Guys, I’ve said too much, we are now in official secrets territory, the Queen could have my head.”

When will I learn to keep my big fat mouth shut?

Fortunately, they let it go; it might have been helped by the two young ladies who came up looking for dart partners.

Bill and Steve jumped at the chance; by the look, I got from one of the girls she had missed her target.

The evening wore on and the stout flowed. I had left my car at my in-town garage. I managed to semi-stagger back there and spend the night.

In the morning I had a raging headache. I had some aspirin, but they didn’t seem to help. I managed to get back to The Meadows where I took a long shower then had the cook fix me a large breakfast.

From the way she rattled her pans she knew my problem and had no sympathy. I took my coffee and told her I would be in the library. I had to get away from the racket.

I managed to eat my breakfast. At least I didn’t have digestive problems at either end. Why did I drink so much, never again!

I went back to my room and lay down. I ended up sleeping until lunch. I was feeling better by then, at least the anvil chorus had stopped, and it was now the occasional trip hammer.

I hadn’t had anything to drink for months, and I wouldn’t drink alcohol in the foreseeable future. I wondered how the men in my family managed to become alcoholics.

I hoped that those blighters who had made me drink all that were suffering as bad as I was. Well maybe they didn’t force me, but I didn’t mind the thought of them suffering along with me.

Saturday was a lost day. Staff showed their approval of my actions by hoovering any room I was in while playing the wireless loud.

I finally went for a long walk around the ground. As it was Saturday work on the ruins and the amusement park was down for the weekend. The fact that it was cold, and misting might have had something to do with it.

I kicked around the ruins wondering if I could find more treasure but didn’t even find a hobnail. I must say the walk did me a world of good.

Returning to the house I settled in with a newspaper, The Telegraph. The only story of note was that Pope John XXIII had excommunicated Fidel Castro.

The fact that Castro was excommunicated meant little as he had the guns. What impressed me was Pope John XXIII. Twenty-two previous Popes named John. That had to be a track record. I looked up in the encyclopedia and it was.

The funny thing was there was never a Pope John XX. I wondered if there would be a Pope John XXX. Probably not the church has to watch its image. Though some of the stories the catholic boys in Bellefontaine told made me wonder if they cared.

Sunday was a quiet day though it wasn’t lost. I spent the day on horseback and then drove into town for dinner. I was getting tired of cooks banging around. She certainly didn’t approve of drinking.

At the restaurant, I was given a quiet table in the corner as it was a slow night. That didn’t deter a man from approaching my table and sitting down without an invitation.

He was a little older than me. He dressed like an Oxford student, carelessly. His accent marked him as a longtime resident.

“Lord Blackhoof, please excuse my rudeness. This appears to be the only way I can talk to you. Since he was polite, I decided to hear him out and signaled the approaching manager that it was okay.

“How can I help you?”

“You already have. I’m here to tell you that Deng is in power now and that Lady Ping will be ascending the Throne.”

“Any date on her ascension?”

“We think February 1st by your calendar, which is our January 8th. Neither she nor Deng is Dragons so there is no clash. The ceremony will be facing south the opposite of north which is evil that day.”

“Lady Ping and Chairman Deng have requested your presence to represent the British Crown and an Ambassador from the British government.”

“I can commit to being there as a private individual. I will have to get the Crown's permission to represent the Queen. As far as an Ambassador that is up to the Prime Minister and his cabinet, but I suspect they will be happy to send someone.

I could see that Monday would be a terribly busy day. The gentleman gave me a telephone number to call when I could answer the invitations. He gave his name, Hsian-Tsung. He had to be a relative of Lady Ping.

After passing me that information he got up abruptly and left. I wonder what that was about. I was finished with my meal so threw more than enough to pay for the meal and tip on the table and followed him.

When he went outside, I stopped and looked out the front window of the restaurant. I was glad I did, he seemed to have a security detail that didn’t appear to be happy with him. He had dodged them long enough to talk to me.

Not wanting to ruin his risk-taking I walked to the kitchen door. The manager joined me as he had been watching the curious doings.

“May I leave out the back?”

“Follow me Lord Blackhoof.”

Sometimes notoriety has its advantages. I went down the alley several blocks and came out near my garage where I had parked my car.

As no one was in sight I got into the Aston Martin and drove sedately out of town. I may have stepped on it a little when I was outside Oxford limits, but no Panda chased me down.

 

Chapter 3

 

The first thing I did Monday morning was to call my bank. I explained to my account manager that he would get a call from the father of my friend Steve applying for a loan.

I would guarantee the loan and even though he would ask for ten thousand pounds he was to extend a line of credit of twenty-five thousand. Things always cost more than you thought.

I no sooner hung up the phone than I had an incoming call from my movie agent Clark Miller. It had been a long time since we had communicated. I had instructed him not to send me any scripts until told otherwise.

The last time we had talked was to commiserate on being snubbed by the Oscar committee. It seems, ‘Over the Ohio,’ had too much commercial success for their taste. If the common public liked it, it couldn’t be highbrow enough for an Oscar.

I will take the money over their silly little statue any day. Granted it is a true honor for those who earned it but there was as much politics as worthiness involved.

I had learned about this at Warner Brothers. It still didn’t mean it stung a little. I thought it was well done. Especially since I didn’t have many scenes.

Clark wanted to let me know that the Wayne people had contacted him about the script John Wayne had shown me. I apologized for not contacting him. So much else had been going on. Feeding a country for one.

Anyway, they were sending him a copy. I still had the one John had given me and I promised to give it a serious read to see if I were interested and I would get back to him no matter what. I had some time on my hands now since Oxford didn’t seem interested in educating me.

I knew this because when I got back to The Meadows there had been a letter waiting for me. I had put off telling my parents, or even thinking about it. I was in denial.

Oxford was making my expulsion permanent. They felt I was a bad influence on the student body and traditions of the University. And oh, by the way, my financial contributions were appreciated, and would I keep sending them.

My support for the archaeological dig was in a contract so I couldn’t change that. I wouldn’t anyway. I loved the work and discoveries going on. As far as financial contributions they must be kidding me!
I will continue to support the military students but not the endowment fund of the University. They can go pound salt…up somewhere.

I wonder if a 707 can be used for low-level bombing.

I had to have something to do, maybe a movie would be just the ticket. It would get me out of England the scene of my disgrace.

After hanging up I went to get a bottle of Coke and the phone rang again for me. It was Mr. Norman.

“Rick, I have been expecting a conversation with you about your expulsion from Oxford. Since you haven’t called, I thought I would reach out to you.”

“To tell the truth I’ve had the letter for several days but have been ignoring it.”

“Dear boy you know it won’t go away.”

“I know, it does hurt. I didn’t think hitting the Chancellor in the face with a pie-rated expulsion. I understood being sent down for a term but kicked out for good!”

“It does seem harsh; I made some inquiries. It seems you have riled up some of the senior dons.”

“What have I done?”

“Been successful.”

“They feel that your success has little to do with them. Since it doesn’t reflect well on them, they don’t want you overshadowing them.”

“How do I overshadow them?”

“They are used to being pointed out when they walk across campus, now all eyes are on you.”

“I can’t fix their jealousy. It’s not that I tried to get in these situations.”

“If you had only waited until graduation, they could have taken credit for your successes.”

“How inconsiderate of me. Hey, do you know if a 707 can be retrofitted for low-level bombing?”

“Let’s not be hasty.”

“I won’t but I wouldn’t care if they got word, I was looking at the option.”

“Settle down or I will call the Countess.”

“That’s another thing I haven’t done. I have to tell Mum and Dad.”

“Before that, the Queen has asked if you want her to bring her pressure on Oxford.”

I had to think about that. I was quiet on my end of the line for a few moments.

“No, it would be a waste for the Crown to use its influence. I don’t want to be associated with them going forward, even if they would voluntarily reinstate me.”

“All right, I will tell Her Majesty. In the meantime, you should call your parents.”

“I’ll do that as soon as the time zones let me.”

Yeah, wake them in the middle of the night to tell them I’ve been kicked out of school. Not on your life.

Before I hung up, I filled him in on my meeting last night. He told me he would make inquiries and give me a course of action. It would probably take several days.

I went to the library with my Coke and picked up the script that Mr. Wayne had given me. He wanted me to call him John and I would sometimes, but he would always be Mr. Wayne.

The script was good. I was a perfect fit. A young Englishman who was newly arrived in America to study at Yale accidentally gets involved with the CIA.

His not knowing Americanisms leads to some low comedy. As a counterpoint, there is some heavy action especially a chase scene in which he is left dangling from the Statue of Liberty.

There were pretty girls involved but no real love interest.

I decided that I would like to do the movie. I called Clark and told him that I had gone through the script and wanted to do the part.

He was to open negotiations with the Wayne group. A low salary was okay but points in the movie an absolute.

He wanted to know how many points.

“As many as you can get if John Wayne doesn’t call me to complain you haven’t tried hard enough.”

“I thought you two were friends.”

“We are this is how friends play, I will give in but want to have some fun along the way. Oh yes and demand a bit part for Nina Monroe.”

“Is her father the head of Warner Brothers? That Monroe.”

“Yes, and she is my girlfriend. Happy girlfriend, happy life or something like that.”

“Got it, points and bit part. I will take it from here.”

“Thanks, Clark.”

It was my day to be on the phone. I called Nina next, not to tell her about the movie, that would wait until it was a done deal. It was to tell her about being kicked out of school.

She already knew it was in the tabloids. That meant my parents knew also. Dang.

She was sympathetic as one would expect from a girlfriend. They were unfair, mean, and nasty. What was I going to do?

I told her negotiations had just opened for a new movie being produced by John Wayne. She thought this would be great. At one time we would have been upset with the long distance between us, but that wasn’t a problem with a jet plane at our disposal.

I told her I couldn’t talk long as I had to call my parents. She wished me luck.

I got through to Dad in his office. It so happened Mum was there. They put me on a speaker. These neat new devices were cropping up in a lot of offices.

It was a little awkward in that you could speak or listen but not both. We had to take turns. They did know about my expulsion and had made some phone calls.

I wasn’t in any trouble because it was all political. We agreed that my time at Oxford was finished. I gave them an update on China and my invitation and seeing about the new Chinese being recognized by Great Britain. I was waiting for instructions from the Palace.

There was also the matter of the new movie. They thought that was a wonderful idea. It would give me something to do. They also wanted me to have another Hollywood success. I think not being nominated for an Oscar bothered them more than me.

That was Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday. I wanted to play golf, but the weather was bad, there was even an inch of snow. Instead, I reread the movie script several times getting a better feel for what they wanted to show.

Chapter 4

 

On Thursday morning I received a phone call from Mr. Norman, could I please attend a meeting at the Palace at 2:00 pm today? I told him that I could but that I would be driving down as the weather was too rotten to fly if you didn’t have to.

He asked if I had considered taking the train to town. I hadn’t but that was a great idea. Mr. Hamilton kept a train schedule at the house so I was able to find out that by leaving at ten o’clock I could have a nice lunch in London and still be at the Palace on time for my meeting.

My nice lunch turned into a problem. An inattentive waiter serving the next table backed up, hitting me. I was taking a sip of coffee at the time and ended up with it all over my white shirt and tie.

Thank goodness I had taken off my coat jacket and I didn’t get any on my pants. They wanted to do a seltzer cleaning job on me, but I told them it wouldn’t work and that I was due at the Palace in an hour.

I left while hearing many apologies. I only hope the guy didn’t lose his job; accidents happen but I didn’t have time to talk to the manager.

 

I was able to get a cab to Harrods. From there it was a simple matter of buying a shirt and tie. Of course, I fumbled my cuff links, but it all worked out and I got to the Palace on time.

The meeting was about my invitation to China to see Lady Ping’s coronation as Empress. From what they had been able to find out she would be a constitutional monarchy like England’s.

That seemed odd, I had never considered the Communists working under a constitution, but they did. They violated it all the time to their benefit but had it as a fig leaf for their actions.

I thought Lady Ping may have some influence on their future actions. They may consider her a figurehead, but I think she would be more than that.

There was also the possibility that she was a figurehead, a figurehead for Deng as he changed China. That would be a best-case scenario.

I was told the Crown would be delighted for me to attend the coronation and that the government was to ask me if I would allow an official government representative to accompany me.

Talk about being a figurehead. I could recognize a power play when I saw it. The Queen was showing the government that she was still a power to be reckoned with.

Being from the US I believed in the Republic heart and soul. Being from the UK I thought the Queen was doing simply fine and that ever since Churchill the politicians had just mucked things up.

The Queen and Prime Minister had one of their regular meetings at three o’clock. He would brief her on government actions and proceedings. Today he would be in for a shock.

Later as he was brought into a small parlor where I waited, he did look put out.

“Now hear here, Jackson, this is not how things are done. We will be sending an Ambassador and he will run the show.”

“I’m sorry to hear that you won’t be sending anyone.”

“Didn’t you hear me?”

“I heard your words, but you don’t understand that the invitation is to me and those who I choose to invite.”

“You will invite us, and we will run the show.”

“Or what?”

“I will run you out of England!”

“Okay, I can be wheels up from Heathrow in about three hours, it will take some time to ferry the plane down from Oxford.”

That stopped him cold.

“I will have your departure denied.”

“I thought I was being run out of England.”

At that, the man stopped and collected himself.

“We have got off on the wrong foot.”

“No, you have got off on the wrong foot.”

All the time in the movies voicing the lines writers had given me taught me a good turn of phrase. Especially from the Victorian Sir Nickalous.

He looked like he had swallowed a lemon but restarted.

“Would you please invite our Ambassador along as we wish to establish relations with China? He would oversee diplomatic matters while I hope he can give you some guidance on the proper etiquette in these situations.”

“I would be delighted; I realize I’m not trained or competent for this situation. I intend to go and enjoy the show as a good guest.”

At that, he gave a short laugh.

“You are just as hard-nosed as your Mum.”

“You know my mother?”

“The Countess and I have a history going back to the war.”

This was said in a neutral tone so I couldn’t read anything into it. He didn’t seem inclined to elaborate so I had to let it drop. What all had my Mum done in the war? She certainly had got around.

“May I ask, has the same invitation been extended to the Americans?

“Not to my knowledge, nothing was said to make me think they will be part of this.”

‘Wonderful, it will be nice to take a world leadership victory from the Yanks, they are a good ally but still it is nice to one-up them occasionally.”

“This one will be one for the history books. England opens up China.”

“More along the line that Lord Blackhoof opened up China.”

“I doubt that. You politicians are good at finding a way to take the credit.”

He looked affronted for a moment, then gave an honest laugh.

“Got it in one. I will start the process as soon as I get back to Number 10.”

“Is there a problem of letting the American government know what is going on?”

“As long as the Chinese don’t object.”

“I will ask them when I call my contact.”

“Is your contact truly Lady Ping?”

“Yes.”

“I was told that but wasn’t certain I believed it.”

“It is a long story, but I have had contact with her for several years now as a conduit between the Chinese government and MI 6. Though now I wonder if the government in power even knew what was going on.”

“What sort of security did you receive for that enormous loan?”

“It was sealed with a handshake.”

“My God, I was told that but find it incredible, to say the least. You could have and might still lose a fortune.”

“Easy come, easy go.”

At that he bid me farewell, shaking his head as he went. Poor little politician, never able to trust anyone. What a sad life.

Before I left the Palace, I returned to Mr. Norman’s office and updated him on my conversation with the Prime Minister.

Mr. Norman had a good laugh about me being kicked out of England. The Queen would have dissolved the government first, and called for new elections, making certain all knew what happened.

The average Englishman didn’t pay that much attention to world affairs, but they understood fair play.

I decided to call Hsian-Tsung through the Palace switchboard. I liked the thought of him picking up the phone and being told it was Buckingham Palace on the line, would he please hold for Lord Blackhoof.

I did get through to him, but he made no mention of my little power play. The games he played probably ended up in gunfire. My little trick would go unnoticed.

He was pleased to hear that I would be attending and that the British government was sending an Ambassador. By the way, you can tell President Kennedy you have been invited and the British are coming but they will not be invited.”

“May I ask why?”

“We remember Korea.”

“UK forces were there.”

“But we know that the US wouldn’t listen to Churchill or Atlee.”

Then he let something slip.

“I hear the Prime Minister tried to have his ambassador take charge. That you put him in his place.”

“How would you know that?”

“Both of you got rather loud, they heard it in Hong Kong.

I doubted that, it meant they had a spy in the Palace. Now, why did he let me know that? To keep us honest. This was truly a puzzle.

I went back to Mr. Norman's office. He must be getting tired of me walking through his door. He did sit up straight when I relayed my conversation. He agreed it was puzzling that I was made aware of a spy in our midst.

Our best guess the spy was from the old regime and had reported back but they wanted to get rid of the spy, so they let it slip. MI 6 could do their dirty work for them.

Months later I would learn that all the people near that office were investigated. What they learned was that one of the staff had sold the information to a reporter who had, in turn, sold it to the Chinese. It appeared that Hsian-Tsung wanted them to run in circles for a while. Now, why would he do that, unless it is to conceal someone or an ongoing operation? I hate the spy world.

Chapter 5

 

On Friday I had a do-nothing day. I went over to the boarding stable and took a long ride on the horse that my parents had got me. I had been on it so infrequently that I never bothered to name it.

The kids from the orphanage sponsored by the Coram Foundation called him Big Red. Since I hardly ever gave him any exercise, we allowed them along with several other horse owners to ride our horses...

I called ahead to make sure no children would be out today. Because he was ridden often by children, he had become very patient. He plodded along, not my idea of a ride. I think I will just deed him over; I will still pay his bills, vet, feed, and board but I took no real pleasure in the ride.

I expect George was getting to be the same way at Jackson House.

Another decision I made about things that weren’t doing me immediate good was that Ferrari I had won. All it did was sit in the garage in Oxford. Since I wasn’t going there anymore, I didn’t need the garage. I had meant to ship it to the US to torment Denny but never got around to it.

After thinking about what to do with it I realized Valentine's day was nearing. I made a phone call to the dealer in London and arranged for it to be shipped to Switzerland. I hoped it would arrive on time.

After that, I told Mr. Hamilton to have the garage cleaned out and let it go. Mum had rented it for me and had paid for me by the year. I had no idea who the landlord was, but he said he had the papers and would take care of them.

This year had been paid for and I could legally stop them from using the garage for all of 1962.

I told Mr. Hamilton just to get me out and eat the loss. That was when it hit me hard that my days at Oxford were over. I started to tear up a little then settled down. As they say, it was done and dusted.

I also called David Randel-MacIver and let him know that I would continue to fund the roman dig and the amusement park. He had heard about my being dismissed so was relieved to hear my promise to continue the funding.

I don’t know why he was worried it was only a couple of million pounds a year. Another loose end tidied up.

All caught up on the loose ends of my life I wondered what to do next. I felt like playing golf but with this lousy weather, cold rain, there was no way that I was going to play.

I did think that I had to contact John Jacobs as I hadn’t talked to him in a while. About that time, I slapped my forehead. Why not go to dry, warm California to talk to John and play some golf?

Silly me sitting here in England with nothing to do and I could go anywhere in the world. I picked up the phone and called the air leasing firm to see if my jet was ready to go. It was.

I asked them to set up a flight to California leaving early tomorrow morning. Informed Harold of my intentions and that he was to accompany me. Grand Mum and Mr. Hamilton were still at Jackson House.

I let the housekeeper know my plans. She told me she would take advantage of everyone being gone and let them take a week off. She would be heading to Corfu. It seems everyone was ready to flee this dreadful winter weather.

I wish I had thought of it earlier, I never gave it a thought that the only reason the servants were here was that I was in residence.

I called Nina and told her of my plans. She immediately declared she hated me. She had to stay in school. We talked for an hour and she finally told me she didn’t hate me but was jealous.

She wouldn’t be getting any length of time off until spring break in May. She would model on the weekends and even in some nice places, but it would be flying in, work, fly out.

I then called Jackson House to let them know I would be arriving tomorrow night and please have a room available for Harold. I assumed mine would be there.

Mum told me she wondered why I had even bothered to go back to England while the weather was bad. I pled male not thinking. She accepted that as normal.

My flight to LAX was getting to be old hat. I even sat upfront with the flight crew. They let me log a few hours over the Arctic ocean. I think they only did it because it was one of the most boring flights ever. Nothing but white down below.

We arrived on time at LAX and spent the next hour circling as traffic was backed up. This was jet plane traffic, not cars. Though from what I could see the freeways had a major case of gridlock.

Finally, able to land Harold and I took our limo which Mum had sent for us to Jackson House. He had more luggage than I did because of my duplicate sets of clothing. I told him to purchase and bill me duplicate sets of his own. It seemed dumb for me to be able to leave the plane quickly because I had no bags but then had to wait for him.

He told me that he had been saving to do that very thing and he would take me up on my generous offer.

At Jackson House just in time for dinner I was told there would be a treat for me after eating. I had no clue as to what it might be.

After the meal, the family retired to the TV room. There was a special documentary they wanted to watch. My shipping container documentary had been released.

I thought it was well done but I couldn’t stand my voice. Everyone assured me that it sounded fine. Even Mary gave me a pass. She must be up to something.

I had only been gone for a little while so there wasn’t much to catch up on. I did notice that Mr. Hamilton and Grand Mum were sitting together on a love seat.

No one else seemed to notice or care so I let it go. Hey, if they are happy so am I. Our resident gad about, Mrs. Hernandez seemed to have a night off from her frantic dating schedule.

I had the flight crew take a few days off. They were staying at my beach house. They complained to their home office about how tough of duty they had. The nerve.

I even took the Head Stewardess to task over this. She told me it was incredibly stressful never knowing when their idiot client would take it in his mind to leave this paradise. The worry!

I called John Jacobs and he was glad to hear from me. He didn’t know if I had given up on golf. It wasn’t the money. Since he had caddied for a US Open winner he was in high demand.

He was looking forward to defending the title this year and by the way, was I thinking of the Grand Slam. I hadn’t been but this was a good idea. I had the time now.

It would be the Masters in April, June was the US Open, then the PGA Championship July, and followed by the British Open the same month.

We talked about it. He volunteered to cancel all his caddy bookings if I wanted to get serious. I did. I would be playing or practicing every day that I could. I explained that I had to be in China the last week of January, but it would only be for a week, then he had my full time.

He had a few friends who worked at the Augusta National Golf Club, he would ask who on the board would most likely get me guest privileges.

He called back within the hour, if I had a way to contact him President Eisenhower was a long-time member and carried heavy influence. I told him I would call Ike. John knew that Ike was my godfather and was pulling my leg.

Not letting any grass grow under my feet and it still being early enough I called the ex-President at his farm in Gettysburg. He was home and took my call.

I explained that I was going for a grand slam this year and that I needed to practice at Augusta. He immediately volunteered to get me guest privileges and that he would take me on my first round.

I suspect it was an excuse to get to Augusta and play a round or two.

He checked his calendar and said he could play next week. I offered to pick him up in Frederick Maryland and take him with me to the Augusta airfield. I later learned we would have to fly into Atlanta and take a smaller plane to Augusta as the runways were not long enough at Daniel’s field.

 

Chapter 6

 

I knew my golf was rusty, so I went to the Riviera County Club’s practice range. I spent half a day and hit four buckets of balls. I took frequent breaks, so I didn’t get sore or pull anything.

Starting with my nine iron I worked my way up. When I got to my driver things had changed, I hadn’t grown any taller, but I was carrying twenty more pounds. At six foot five inches weighing two hundred and ten pounds I was in the best shape of my life.

During the last six months, I had stepped up my running, weightlifting, and general exercising. I didn’t make a big deal of it, I just did it.

I weighed fifteen pounds more than I did at the US Open. It showed when I hit my drives, I had gained about five yards. That doesn’t sound like much, but at this level of golf, it could be a game-changer.

I might also add that the weight gain wasn’t fat. I had what they called washboard abs. I felt good about myself and it was obvious that I was going to tear up the golf courses.

Then I went to the putting green and my world collapsed around me. My speed, and ability to read the lie were terrible, other than that all was well. It was trash!

I was going to have to spend hours getting my feel for the greens back. Not only was I bad, but I was also trying to putt on the practice greens of a busy golf course.

Groups were teeing off every ten minutes. Most groups hit the practice green while they waited. US Open winner or not, they wanted their share of the large green. I would never get the time I needed here. All the courses in the area would be the same.

I could go anywhere in the world. Where would I find a practice green that would be all mine? I was so desperate that I even mentioned it at dinner. Denny and Eddie shrugged their shoulders, Mary thought I should buy a course of my own.

Dad didn’t say anything. Mum was out at some charity event with Mrs. Hernandez. Those two made the local tabloids almost every day and the nationals once a week.

After dinner Dad went to his office, he came out a little while later.

“Rick, there is a golf course out by Ontario that is being torn down for residential development. The practice greens are still there, and I have rented them for you for the next month.”

“Dad you are awesome.”

“You are paying for it, not me.”

Have I ever said my Dad can be a cheapskate at times? I think being raised in the depression made him that way. It didn’t matter, either of us could afford it, it was his tone of voice, he was serious.

No matter I had my practice green.

In the morning John and I drove out to Ontario to the golf course. The clubhouse was gone, and the first fairway was being bulldozed. The putting green and driving range were on the far side of where the clubhouse had been, so the equipment noise wasn’t that bad.

One nice thing was that the green was still in good shape like someone was still tending it. We soon found out as a grumpy old man came out and demanded who we were, and what we were doing here.

He didn’t want to listen to us, he was calling the police. Before he did that a guy in a construction truck pulled in. He was yelling as he came up to us.

He yelled, “Sam, wait a minute, it's okay.”

The old guy turned and listened.

“These guys have rented the practice area for the next month. It means you have an extra three weeks.”

A picture started to form.

The old guy named Sam had to be told twice before he understood, he started smiling.

“I knew the Lord would provide.”

“Sam it is only some more weeks, this area is coming down.”

“I’m sure the Lord will provide.”

He turned to me and asked, “Now who are you coming to my rescue.”

There was no way I could pass this one up. Using my most posh British accent.

“Lord Blackhoof.”

Sam got all red in the face, I thought he might have a heart attack. I was worried when he started wheezing. He finally got settled down.

“I know the Lord moves in mysterious ways, but I didn’t know he also has a sense of humor. So, you’re the Richard Jackson who is the US Open Champion.”

“I am.”

“Nice to meet you, now let me guess, you haven’t played much recently and find your putting has gone out the window. Not only that you need a green where you can spend many hours.”

Sam is not as crazy as I thought.

“You understand my situation quite well.”

The construction guy had headed back to his truck when saw blood wasn’t going to be shed.”

“Sam, what's the story here?”

“I’ve tended this golf course for the last forty years. It’s part of my life, I just can’t seem to let it go. I know that it is gone but I want this last little piece to last as long as it can.”

I could respect that, I didn’t understand it, but I could respect it. I didn’t have forty years invested in anything so there was no way I could understand.

John had been standing silently the whole time. He now spoke up asking some technical questions about the large green. The foundation, sand, grass type, and a few other things.

Sam waxed enthusiastic and I could see John forming a partnership with Sam.

I went right to work, lining up ten golf balls fifteen feet from one of the pins. I kept missing to the right. It was only inches but, in this case, the saying, an inch is as good as a mile was correct.

I lined them up again when Sam stopped me. He and John had been watching my poor display.

“May I call you Rick?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Rick, stop what you are doing, you are only ingraining a bad habit.”

“Do you know what I should be doing?”

“I think you are too tense. Try something for me.”

I nodded and he showed me a different grip.

“Try it this way.”

I did and the ball went in the hole. The second and third made it also. I missed the fourth, leaving it hanging on the edge. The point was it was headed towards the cup not sliding away.

“You mean I have been gripping the club wrong all this time?”

“Not at all, when you changed your grip you concentrated on that and forgot whatever was making it push.”

I set up and stroked the other six balls towards the pin. I was sinking fifteen percent, good but not good enough to win a tournament.

I must have putted a thousand times that day. Towards the end, I was up to twenty percent. Better but not good enough. I needed to be above thirty percent at ten to fifteen feet.

Above fifteen feet putting drops off dramatically. I didn’t bother to practice any forty-five-footers. With the curves, hills, and dales used today, it would be almost impossible to read a green that well.

Sam proved to be a putting genius. I asked him why he wasn’t a pro somewhere. He told me that his short irons were a mystery that he never solved and as such never made a name for himself, even locally.

As far as I was concerned their loss, my gain. Further conversation revealed he is a widower with no children. He appeared to be all alone in the world.

I said something to that effect, and he laughed.

“I have my buddies at the VFW. We get together every week and tell lies.”

Still not the same.

I spent a total of six hours putting and two hours on the range.

On the putting green, I would line ten balls up at three feet and put them in 98% of the time, I had to be 99%. Then I would back off a foot and stroke ten more. The further back the lower the percentage in, but the more practice and that percentage started to rise. Nothing spectacular but it did was an improvement.

After working back to fifteen feet I would move over to the driving range. I was using the range as a break from putting. At the range I would start with the low clubs, hitting ten shots. Finally, the driver using tees. I was booming them out.

We broke for lunch, my treat. At the end of the day, I felt like I had a real workout.

On the way back to my house where John had left his car, he made a statement.

“It’s a shame you don’t have a putting green like that at Jackson House.”

“Yes, it is, but it would take a long time to put one in and grow the grass.”

“Not if you transplanted.”

“John you are a genius!”

 

Chapter 7

 

I could hardly wait to get home and talk to Dad. I asked him who owned the golf course I had been practicing at, I wanted to buy the putting green and have it brought to Jackson House. He had no problems with that.

We had the room. We talked about the driving range; we had the room but didn’t want to move that much grass. Dad made a phone call and talked for a while.

“Rick, I explained what you wanted. He is giving the green to you plus the driving range, all you must do is pay to move it and play one round of golf with him at a future date. He wants to brag he played with a US Open winner.”

“That’s great, I’ll gladly play eighteen holes with him, any idea of the cost of moving?”

“None but I bet a sod company could do it.”

Dad made another call, he knew a guy, who knew a guy. Anyway, he got through to a sod company.

My Dad has become a wheeler-dealer, at least a better one, he had always made trades for interesting items, but this was on a larger scale.

The sod company would move the putting green for free in exchange for all the grass on the driving range. We could keep the driving range markers and other equipment. We could set up a driving range outback, it wouldn’t have the nice grass for a few years, but I could still practice my irons.

My driver would clear the back fence, I don’t think anyone walking along the trail near our back gate would appreciate that. That aggravated me to no end.

Then it dawned on me there was an area where I could hit the ball as far as I could with no danger. The US Forest Service airbase. I still had a Cessna in the hangar there.

John and I went over to the Forestry Service the next morning to see the chief ranger. He was in and when I explained that I wanted to put a driving range in he told me there was one condition. He and his people could use it.

I had no problem with that. He asked if I was going to put a putting green next to it. It did make sense to have them together, so I revised the backyard plan.

Then John and I went back to Ontario for my putting practice. Sam was there bright and early. I played it straight with him as this setup was near and dear to him. There is a time to be a jokester, this wasn’t one of them.

“Sam, I have come up with a way to save the putting greens and use the driving range equipment on a new range.”

He looked at me skeptically.

“We are moving the practice greens to a US Forest Service airbase near my house. We will set up a driving range using all this equipment. The grass out there is rough for a range but I’m sure you can get it in shape.”

From there I gave him the whole story.

“Where do I fit into this?”

“I thought that we would build you a small house next to the equipment shed we need, and you live there rent-free plus a salary. You will maintain it for the forest service people and my use.”

I had to go over it several times until he understood. Then I got a hug. Sometimes it is good to be rich.

The sod people were anxious to start. They had been told that they would be working with Sam. The move would start tomorrow which worked out well as I was flying to Augusta to play golf with Ike.

Then I got down to business. I went through the same practice routine I had the day before. Both John and Sam were watching my swing like hawks.

John suggested we might want to buy a camera so we could capture my swing. I told him to investigate that.

There were no dramatic improvements but no backsliding. Another ten thousand or so putts and I might get it.

At home, I brought Dad up to date on my plans for the practice setup. He told me he was glad it could be done that way. In our enthusiasm, we had forgotten that Mum used that area for her charity outdoor events. We had dodged a bullet.

The next morning John’s wife dropped him off at the house and we took a limo into LAX. John had collected my clubs and other gear from Riviera.

I had thought about duplicate sets and had ordered a couple to be kept with me in case of a disaster but was reluctant to change even if they were identical.

Our flight to pick up Ike was uneventful. I even picked up a couple of hours for my logbook. He was waiting with his secret service guard at the airport. He only had a small overnight bag. He kept clubs at Augusta, so we were good to go.

The flight down to Atlanta and then onto Augusta was smooth. John and I had our clothes with us. Harold had a small fit when he realized he wouldn’t be traveling with us or that I wouldn’t have my full wardrobe available.

I’m sure he will get over it.

Since I was traveling with Ike, I was invited to dinner with him. It was with other members of the Augusta National Golf Course. They were a stuffy group to me, though they were very polite.

John had to stay at our hotel and go out for a cheeseburger. Lucky John.

It appears I was made of the right stuff. After dinner, it was mentioned that if I had a sponsor and some thousands of dollars, I was welcome to join the club as an associate member. Since Ike was smiling as this was mentioned I thought I had at least one sponsor.

As far as the money that was no big deal. It would be handy to be a member and could practice when I wanted. Based on that I asked what I had to do.

It turned out truly little. It was all a setup. I had to sign some prepared paperwork and write a check. I had to be voted on by the membership committee but was given the impression that was a mere formality.

I found out later how much of a formality it was when the membership committee hanging out at the bar voted me in. The check had better clear.

The next morning, we met at the clubhouse for our round. Ike was in good spirits as this was his favorite course. After spending some time on the driving range to loosen up, then the practice greens to get a feel for their greens I was ready to play.

I thought I would tear the course up, instead, the course tore me up. Ike was incredibly happy with his eight-one. I was unhappy with a seventy-six. I could see that John and I had a lot of work to do.

I played another round in the afternoon. Since it was all walking Ike begged off. He certainly was getting on in years.

I did better the second time through, a seventy-two. I didn’t think I would ever duplicate Gene Sarazen’s shot heard around the world. After playing the par-five fifteenth hole I thought getting a birdie would be a fine showing. His double eagle of two shots on the par-five was incredible.

John was learning the course at the same time I was. He suggested on the second day that we hire a course caddy who knew his way around.

That was genius as the caddy gave us the ins and outs of every hole. John took notes on every hole and almost every shot.

We stayed the third day. Ike had gone home the next day after our round. He flew back to Atlanta and my crew took him home. He called me later and told me that was a better plane and setup than the President of the United States had.

He gently hinted that he would like the use of the plane occasionally, especially if he had to go to Europe. Try to tell the ex-President you wouldn’t loan out your aircraft.

After playing two rounds on the third day, I had enough of Augusta for a while. I would be back before the master’s but enough was enough.

I had my trip to China coming up and I wanted to be certain I was prepared. The British had sent their Ambassador ahead to Hong Kong. I needed to get there to get my internal clock adjusted. It would take a week.

Out flight back to LAX went well. The aircrew, the hostesses, and I had got our routine down pat. I was able to even perform the takeoff. I had landed a 707 but never taken off.

 

Chapter 8

 

On Thursday, the 25th we flew to Hong Kong, arriving on the 27th. The coronation was the following Thursday so I would have plenty of time to get my body clock turned around.

I slept well on the flight when I allowed myself to sleep. I stayed up as late as I could not that it ended up helping.

A Boeing 707 cruising speed is advertised as 607 miles per hour. I know we did over 600 miles per hour but with headwinds, our flying time was longer.

Then there was a two-hour layover in Honolulu to refuel. I went for a run around the airfield to stretch my legs. One thing and another what would have been a twelve- and half-hour flight turned into sixteen.

We had left LAX at seven a.m. We lost a day crossing the international dateline, so it was early on Friday when we arrived. I had a long day ahead of me.

I was staying at The Peninsula Hotel once again. I like their style. I checked in and was taken by one of their limos to the British Embassy. The man who had been named the British Ambassador to the Forbidden City met me.

I thought that I would have days to rest up. I was informed that I was to immediately start lessons on Chinese Imperial etiquette.

I realized that you had to bow the right depth for different ranking officials. That and a polite, how do you do, should do it. Boy was I wrong.

Some of what I learned made sense, some things I will never understand. Four is an unlucky number so never give four of anything. Eight is lucky so that works. Shouldn’t it be double unlucky? What about twelve of something, unlucky and lucky would that mean twelve is neutral?

Always greet the oldest person first, what if you don’t know who is the oldest. If you greet a woman first who looks oldest is, she complimented because she is senior or upset you think she is old.

I was told handshakes were the most ordinary form of greeting with foreigners, but that touching is only acceptable between family and close friends.

Then there is the eye contact thing, don’t do it. Look down when being introduced, shoes preferred. No eye contact is considered reverential. What if I only like them, but not revere them?

 

You can look at people with your head turned so it is only one-eyed. Is that where the one-eyed Jack came from?

Don’t give scissors or knives as gifts as they can be interpreted as severing a relationship. What do you give your son who just graduated from barber school?

A hairbrush?

No flowers because they go with funerals, no white, blue, or black paper. Don’t open the gift at once. Always present gifts with two hands. That one was easy because I knew about business cards.

You can refuse a gift three times before accepting it. What if I want the gift?

Entertainment is to be in public places, not the home, particularly with foreigners. We probably would forget to wipe our feet.

If I was invited into a home, it is considered a great honor and it should be accepted if possible. If not give a complete explanation. Muddy shoes will not work because you must take them off outside.

Bring a small gift to the hostess.

Learn to use chopsticks. Luckily, I could do that because you must eat well to show you are enjoying the food. This was the only place that I felt that I had an advantage, teenager here.

Don’t place chopsticks upwards in the rice bowl. It is bad luck. I suppose if you fell forward you could put an eye out.

I was to wear dark-colored conservative business suits. I didn’t know they made any other type. Not true but it sounded good.

Always use title and last name.

My business card was to be English on one side, Chinese on the other. It also had to say that Jackson Enterprises was the largest and oldest provider of cargo containers in the world.

After examining the business cards, you receive place them on the table until the meeting is over. Never write on the card unless told to.

As far as the subject of the meeting there could be a problem. They were supposed to be made in writing in advance. There would be an agenda that should be adhered to.

Listen carefully as people speak, they will take an inordinate amount of time but there will be hints of the concerns which must be addressed.

They would indicate where I was to be sit. Presumably across from a senior person as I would be the senior person representing Jackson Enterprises. In government matters, the Ambassador would take precedence.

Only senior members would speak, as the only one from my team there it made it easy.

Losing your temper is the loss of face and to be avoided.

The Chinese are very hierarchical, and decisions will not be made if the senior person is not present. These meetings are jumping-off points for other opportunities.

They most of all want to learn if they can work with you. They are shrewd negotiators and will skin you alive if allowed.

I was to remember that I was at a severe disadvantage because of the hierarchical nature of the Chinese. The teachings of Confucianism said that there is never equality. Older and senior people command the most respect.

I was taught about these things for three days straight. I was put into practice situations where I had to abide by these rules. It wasn’t fun. How I would do when thrust into reality was an open question.

The business portion of my training assumed I would have business meetings. As far as I knew I was only attending a coronation.

The first two days of the time change were terrible, I felt like I had the flu. On my previous trip, I had made the journey in steps and so adjusted a little each stop along the way. This was one big leap and boy was it hard.

By the fourth day, I was doing okay. I had no time for sightseeing as the Ambassador was determined to cram three thousand years of Chinese history and culture into one short week.

If I didn’t know he was correct in what he was doing I would have kicked up a fuss.

We debated on how I would dress for the occasion. Since the Chinese respected rank, I was going in full Coldstream Guard mess dress with all my medals. I certainly would get no respect for my age. I needed every edge I could get. That is even if I was to be in any meetings or negotiations.

I had a not-so-bright idea. I called my parent's long distance. It took a while for the operator to get my call through. When I told them what I was thinking they decided I was mad.

When I explained my reasoning, I wasn’t considered mad anymore, just one of the largest gamblers in history. A win would be incalculable, a loss would take time to makeup, but it would be made up. It’s not like I didn’t have time on my side.

They asked if I was telling Ambassador Charles Cathcart my plan, I decided not to if he couldn’t take a joke. It was my risk, not England’s. If I told him he would try to take credit for it. That was his job but this one was on me.

An item on my list was to purchase a present for the new Empress. What do you get a woman who has the largest country in the world at her feet? I doubt a day at the spa would cut it.

I already had her large present in mind, now I needed something for presentation at the public ceremony. I explained my problem to the Embassy staff. A young man who worked at the front desk told me he had an uncle that dealt in old Chinese jewelry. At a total loss of what else to do, I accompanied him to a shop that was literally in a back alley.

I kept looking to see if there was an opium den nearby. We entered an old, cluttered shop. His uncle must have been older than the shop. My mission was explained. While I haven’t mentioned it, China was in a total uproar about the Empress taking the throne.

People were being fed; life was good. When the Uncle who had a name, I couldn’t pronounce learned it was a gift for the new empress he took us into a back room and opened any old safe. He brought an old box and opened it.

This was a box containing an old necklace with a Fenghuang phoenix. He explained this was the symbol of Chinese Empresses. It is considered a symbol of luck and harmony. The fact that it had blue sapphire eyes made it even more powerful.

Wow! It was beautiful. With its beauty and symbolism, it was the perfect gift. It cost a ton of money but compared with my other gift it was nothing. I didn’t have the necklace wrapped because I wanted Lady Ping to see it when I presented it in court.

 

 

 

Chapter 9

 

On Tuesday I felt like a human again. My body clock was adjusted to Hong Kong time. Now I had to look forward to the reverse process going home. Not much fun.

I also had been checked off on my Chinese cultural understandings. It was thought that I knew enough to not be a total embarrassment to England. As the Ambassador told me, “If you have any faux pas, we will blame it on your American heritage.”

I started to laugh then realized he was deadly serious.

I was provided a guide to see the city. One day, we visited the Kowloon Walled City Park, Man Mo Temple, Sharp Island, the Po Lin Monastery, and the Tian Tan Buddha walking up all 268 steps.

That evening we went to the Temple Street Night Market. It was fascinating. Noise, smells, crowds, and you could buy anything you could name. Well, almost anything, I didn’t see any tanks or battleships for sale. There was an aircraft dealer set up with a Cessna 320 in the center of his large stand.

He could speak English, so I asked if I could buy a Phantom F4. He never batted an eye. He asked for my name and number and he would get back to me with a price.

I backed down quickly. Later I wondered if that was his intent or could he get me that jet.

The next day we hiked the Dragon’s Back hiking trail through Shek O Peak. It took about four hours and had some breathtaking views. Tai Tam Harbor was full of ships waiting to be loaded or unloaded. The wait times should be reduced when my port operations are active.

On Wednesday I got to play some golf. I always had a set of clubs on board the aircraft. I played at the Royal Hong Kong Golf Club which had just started hosting a new tournament the Hong Kong Open.

I needed to put that on my list of tournaments to enter. I didn’t set a course record but had a respectable 64. I was in a threesome with Bob Ramsey and Gersham Stewart. They were pleasant chaps though a lot older than me.

They told me the story of the Uganda grass that was used on the course. It had been brought from Uganda through Cairo and almost got the man carrying arrested for smuggling. Who would smuggle grass?

There was a reception at the British Embassy that evening. I had to attend in mess dress. I had never given it much thought but with my size, dressed in all honors worn I must have been an imposing figure.

That and a half-crown would get me a good cup of tea. The upshot is that even though there was a younger set at the reception they wouldn’t come near me. Instead, I was a magnet for all the old fogeys.

They wanted to talk about business or the war, World War I. I managed to dodge them for a few minutes and go out on a balcony where the younger set was gathered. There were several cute girls there, I had nothing in mind except talking to kids my age.

I love business and what goes on but sometimes I need some nonsense in my life. Teenage jokes are funny to us and no one else. I wasn’t going to have that tonight. The kids all started to migrate away, and the oldsters moved in.

I managed to corner one young man and ask him why all the teens kept away from me.

“We have been warned off by our parents. You are too important for us to bother.”

“What a load! First, I’m not that important, and second, I’m dying to have good company. Those old guys aren’t it. Where do you go after this is over?”

“We will sneak out to a coffee shop that is just around the corner. That way we can see when our parents are leaving and can catch a ride home.”

“Lead the way.”

We went out a side door down to the coffee shop. The place was half full of kids who had escaped the reception. There were a couple of night shift workers there, but they kept to themselves.

We had an enjoyable hour, talking about everything and nothing. I wasn’t made the center of attention nor was I ignored. It was delightful.

As the last of them were leaving I rejoined the reception which was winding down. The Ambassador came up to me.

“Did you enjoy the coffee shop?”

“I did, how did you know I was there?”

“Teenagers have been cutting out of these receptions for over fifty years and going there. It is safe and keeps them out of our hair, why should you be any different.”

“How do you know it’s safe?”

“Those night workers are all Hong Kong police.”

That was the most fun I had in a while.

The next morning the Ambassador, his staff, and I took one of the hotels Rolls-Royces to the airport. It was a three and half-hour flight to Peking. I had invited them to fly with me to save on logistics.

While on the way Harold was fussing over my formal dress. I was wearing a morning coat with long tails, a top hat, white gloves, and miniatures of all my medals. It was some sight. He had a Polaroid camera as Mum had demanded pictures.

Upon landing, we were bundled into a stretched-out Cadillac. We were taken to the Forbidden City. There we took a confusing route to one of the many buildings to wait to be summoned. There were coffee and other refreshments available. I avoided all liquids, as I knew I would spill them on my white shirt or must pee at the worst possible moment.

After a wait of several hours in which we had a desultory conversation, we were summoned to a great hall. It probably has a formal name, but I had no idea what it would be. To me, it was just a bloody great hall with several thousand people in it. Television cameras representing the entire world were there. China was letting the world know that change was happening.

A great procession came down the aisle, so we all rose. I could tell by the dress who was Lady Ping. That is, she was dressed in the historical costumes I had studied in preparation for this trip. She had on so much makeup it was impossible to tell if she was Lady Ping.

She arrived at the front of the room and several men who I thought were priests talked in Chinese. This went on for a while then a man came down the aisle. It was Deng Xiaoping. He carried a cushion and on it was a crown.

He approached Lady Ping and was ready to pick up the crown and place it on her head. He was the General Secretary of the Communist Party and President of China.

Before he could take the crown in his hands, Lady Ping picked it up and placed it on her head. She had pulled a Napoleon!

Deng was going to crown her showing her power was through the state and that the communist party was the state. She had chosen to declare her independence. I wondered how this would play out.

From the gasps and outcries of the crowd, it was a toss-up. The Ambassador standing next to me had a cogent comment, “Well I never!”

Trumpets blared and Empress Ping led the way out.

We were taken back to our waiting room but didn’t have a long stay. The new Empress Ping summoned us to her presence. Going to a much smaller hall we removed our shoes and made our way to her.

We had debated what honorifics to use. For me, we had settled on an officer talking to a higher-ranking person.

“This official wishes to congratulation you on your accession to the throne.”

The newly crowned Empress laughed and said, “Nicely done Ricky they have taught you well. Now come up here so we can talk.”

She was sitting on a sofa and patted the seat beside her. I being a good dog robber, sat.

“I have been rather naughty you know; the Communist will want my head, but they don’t dare, or they will lose tremendous face.”

“I wondered.”

“I’m going to open China to the world and bring my people out of poverty. The communist leadership can maintain their decadent lifestyle, but things are going to change for the people.”

As she said that she stared directly at a sour-faced Deng.

I got back on my script and told her I had a gift for her on this auspicious day. I held out the open box with the Fenghuang phoenix necklace displayed. She picked it up and held it for all to see. There were oohs and ahs all around. Even Deng looked impressed.

 

Chapter 10

 

If he was impressed by that what I shared next was going to knock his socks off. This was the present I hadn’t told the Ambassador about and the one that made my parents think I was mad.

“I also have a present for the Chinese people which I’m asking you as Empress to administer.”

I handed her a formal envelope which had the fanciest calligraphy money could buy. There were wax seals and ribbons. It was well over the top.

That is until she read it, she shook herself and read it again. She gave me a look of wonder.

“May I share this,” she asked.

“Yes.”

She read the letter to the crowd. It was several simple statements. The one hundred-million-dollar loan was forgiven. It was to be administered by Empress Ping. If she couldn’t do so by ill health or her death the monies would revert to me.

I watched Deng as she read it out, He looked at me with a half-smile and shook his head. I like a good loser.

Then the impact of what I had done hit him. You should have seen Deng’s face change, what a study in contrasts. I had just given the Empress significant funds independent of the government, so their power was reduced. I had also forgiven the government's debt.

On one hand, he was happy on the other upset.

I had just upset the Chinese applecart. My financial moves didn’t completely give one part or the other power but made them more equal. Empress Ping wouldn’t be a puppet, at least financially. She still couldn’t make laws, but she sure could influence them.

It had occurred to me by forgiving the debt I had taken the possibility of nonpayment off the table and the embarrassments it would have caused.

After that presentation I made my final bow and backed off, never turning my back to the Empress. Once outside the room in the anteroom, I waited for the Ambassador.

He had previously given his unsealed credentials to Deng, now he had presented his sealed copy formally to the Empress. England now had an Ambassador to China.

He was furious with me. How could I pull a stunt like that without her Majesty’s government's permission?

I told him, it’s my money and I can spend it how I want.”

“You have influenced the policy between China and England, private citizens can’t legally do that.”

“Lord Blackhoof, British citizen did nothing. The money came from American citizen Richard Jackson. That is where I keep my funds.”

He sputtered, “But that means the United States, not the United Kingdom will get credit for the funds."

“Neither will, this was a personal gift.”

He sputtered on but had to call for instructions before he could do anything else. He did ask more questions.

“Why did your parents allow you to do this?”

“They think I’m mad, but I’m emancipated and of age in the United States to make financial decisions.”

“How can you afford such a sum?”

“It’s hard being down to your last one hundred and fifty million, but I’ll manage. My accountants tell me that my company will earn that back within two years.”

“Not only that there will be enormous favorable tax consequences. Add to that I’m making a profit on both the wheat being shipped and the shipping itself and the cost is nearer twenty-five million rather than one hundred million. It is being paid for by my Uncle Sam.”

“What will President Kennedy have to say?”

“He won’t like the financial part; I’ll make it up to him by having the US Ambassador recognized. That means England had better get busy signing trade deals rather than whinging about what I’ve done.

“The only people I see not getting anything out of this are those in the world that think I should have been feeding their hungry. My comment is there is a difference between hunger and starving to death.”

“I have to get instructions from my office, but they won’t be happy.”

“It’s not my job to keep them happy.”

He then asked to be escorted back to the Embassy. I asked if I could use a phone to make several international calls. I could.

The first call I made was to the Palace trying to keep ahead of the Ambassador. It was still early in Peking, 11:00 a.m. so that made it 3:00 p.m. yesterday in London. That is so hard to understand. I know about the dateline, but it still felt like a time machine at work.

I got through to Mr. Norman on my first try which was just short of a miracle. Heaven knows how this call was routed. I had heard operators talking, I swear I heard French and Russian.

I explained what I had done. The weirdest sounds came over the line which was a terrible hollow connection. I realized he was laughing.

“Leave it to you to throw the cat amongst the pigeons. They will be having conniptions over at the FO’s office in Whitehall. Douglas-Home will be screaming for the Queen to have your head.”

“Will she”

“Will she what?”

“Have my head.”

“What honor have you yet to receive?”

“I have no idea.”

“Whatever it is you will probably receive it. I would settle for no less than an Earldom.”

“That is for later, I just wanted Her Majesty to know that the Empress is on her throne and that she should be favorable to the United Kingdom.”

“I will update Her Majesty, Lord Blackhoof. Now I must ring off if I’m to stay ahead of the FO.”

My next call was to the White House. Upon identifying myself I was put through to his Chief of Staff Ken O’Donnell. When I told him that I was in Peking at the crowning of the Empress and that I might have an opportunity to ask for an Ambassador exchange with the United States he interrupted a meeting that the President was having.

I brought them up to speed on what had happened. They both made comments about my sanity, but both wanted to take advantage of the situation. I was told that I had the authority to ask for the exchange. Since nothing was in writing I would be the one holding the can if things went awry.

That was a preview of The Richard Jackson Saga Book 11: Interesting Times. To read the rest purchase the book.

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