The Richard Jackson Saga Book 8: Oxford University

 

 

The Richard Jackson Saga

Book 8: Oxford University

By Ed Nelson

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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

 

 

 

Also the BHS class of 1962 just because.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“That is exactly how it happened, give or take a lie or two.”

 

 

 

 

James Garner as Wyatt Earp describing the gun fight at the OK Corral in the movie Sunset.

 

 

 

 

Copyright December 2019 by E. E. Nelson

 

Eastern Shore Publishing

7545 Lovey Lane

Parsonsburg, MD 21849

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.

Cover Picture of Trinity College at Oxford University by Jane Rix and posted at Shutterstock.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 1

I had just barely finished breakfast Monday when I had a phone call from Mr. Monroe. They had some footage from my reveal as Lew Wetzel that he thought it important that I review. Not having anything scheduled I told him I would be there within the hour.

In the small theater they played the daily rushes for me. I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. They had made me up to look scary dark. It was more than that it was downright diabolical. The brief look I gave the camera made me look like evil personified.

“Rick for the movie it works great. For your image I don’t know. Can you live with this?”

“I’m not certain, my team and I had talked about my having a goody two-shoe image. This would certainly take care of that.”

“Who is your team?”

“My parents, Sharon Wallace, Sharon Bronson and Anna Romanov are the core, my brothers and sister also have input.”

“That’s a good group. Why don’t we have them all over to review this footage? It could have an impact on your career. Assuming you make more movies. It will open up a wide range of options for you.”

“I doubt that I could get everyone together in the next couple of days, could we schedule a showing this Friday?”

“We can wait that long, why don’t I host a lunch and then we view it after that?”

“Thank you Mr. Monroe that sounds good. I will make the arrangements.”

“In your travel plans remember the telethon at the end of the month.”

“I will be back from England before that so no problem.”

“Okay, see you Friday for lunch.”

I returned home and got on the phone calling everyone I had mentioned. Sharon Bronson was the only one who had a prior commitment and she was going to try to change that. I couldn’t talk to my family until dinner time but I was certain they would be available. Well I hoped they would.

After that I spent time reading one of the five English history books I had bought. I doubted that my American history courses would do much for me on the English exams. I wouldn’t be able to go in depth but at least have some idea of what had happened, if not the nuances.

I did get a phone call in the middle of the afternoon. A patent search on my beer can pull tab had come up clean so I had to have prototypes build and tested. I called the engineering firm that Dad had recommended. They had built the tooling needed to cut the various depths of metal and would be making test lids on Wednesday and I was welcome to come in and see them.

Knowing the test lids would be available I called Mexicali Delight Brewery and talked to their General Manager. He was intrigued by my idea and agreed to use my lids at the end of the days run Wednesday. I then called Warren Smith the Engineer back and let him know about the filling and invited him along. He was all for it. It turns out that he liked the idea and Mexicali Delight was his beer of choice so it was a win-win for him.

After that interruption I was too psyched up to sit and read so I took a drive in Dads Ford Fairlane over to the airbase on the other side of the park. When I got there nothing had been done. That was not a surprise as Dad was still in negotiations with the Forrest Service. I did take another run around the perimeter of the base.

I then went into the open hangers hoping against hope to find some old airplane parts or equipment even though I had looked before. What I did find in one corner of the furthest hanger was a set of stairs going down. I had to go down even though I hadn’t a flashlight with me. At the bottom of the stairs was a closed door. It wasn’t locked and I was able to pull it open. You could tell by the force used that it had been a long time.

Beyond the door as expected it was pitch black, but I could see the edges of wooden crates. I managed to drag one out but without any tools I would never get it open. Remembering the tire iron in the Ford I raced back to the front gate.

Returning to the hanger it only took a few minutes to pry the top off the wooden crate. Inside were stacked gold lacquered cans labeled C-Rations. They all had a paper label which was in the process of coming off. I guess the glue had deteriorated over the years.

The date on the cans was October 1941 so I wasn’t about to try them. There were meat and beans, meat and potato hash, and meat and vegetable stew as the main meal. Some of the cans were labeled bread and dessert. I had no urge to try them.

Not a very good start to a treasure hunt! I returned home for a flashlight hoping to find something better deeper in the room. After a dirty dusty two hours I realized that this must have been the storage for an emergency food supply. Taking a selection of the cans with me to show the family I returned home and cleaned up for dinner.

When I showed them to my parents it was very obvious they had no fond memories of these meals. On to a more pleasant subject I told them about the rushes from the movie. They agreed that they would come over on Friday to see them. Even the kids could come as their school did not resume until the following Monday.

In a surprise move both Mum and Dad wanted to go to the brewery on Wednesday. Of course they were welcome.

After dinner Mum and I joined Dad in the English room. He had an update for Mum and I about the contents of the safe. The biggest news was about the old one hundred dollar bills. They had auctioned off for a total of three and half million dollars.

The loose gems went for a million and half. He had kept a selection of diamonds which he was having made into a Tiara for Mary. She wouldn’t receive it until she ‘came out’ which meant when she was sixteen. The only other item that Dad had kept was an old Opal ring. This didn’t have great value but looked like an heirloom. He had it resized for Mum.

After dinner I returned to my study of English History. It was really interesting as you could see how our modern world had emerged. Reading history will put you to sleep no matter how blood thirsty those competitors for the throne were.

After my morning routine on Tuesday I contacted our travel agent and arranged for a trip to England with an open return. This included a suite at the Plaza on the Strand and a car. I also called the British Consulate in Los Angeles and asked for their thoughts on my US Marshal status especially on being armed. I didn’t know it was possible to have kittens over the telephone. Under no circumstances was I to attempt to bring a weapon into the country.

That said they had no problems with a long bow and war arrows even though they kill at a greater distance than my pistol. A saber was also allowed. Apparently the British were very traditional in their weapons. It was not could it kill, it was how it was done. I had no plans to take bow or sword so it was all moot. I had a nice long ride on George, being joined by my brothers and sister. It was a nice outing. Way up the trail in the park we came out on a main road and found an ice cream store. What a nice day.

The late afternoon and the evening were spent in the history books.

Mum took the kids to register for school starting on Monday. I rode into the office with Dad. I really had to look into getting another car. While the Ferrari was still on my mind I knew that it wasn’t a practical car. While the T-Bird had been perfect for me I felt like I was ready for something new. Since I was leaving the country there was no hurry. Besides if I spent much time in England I would need a car there.

Jim Williamson was able to give me a business update in about half an hour. Basically everything was moving well and the money was rolling in. It was also rolling out at a fantastic rate. Fortunately it was still more in than out. The cash turnover was over a hundred million a month as the various governments met their commitments. Of all that money only ten percent was considered profit. My God!

The latest venture of Jackson Enterprises was the freight forwarding portion. It was taking off like gangbusters. More and more US industry was exporting product and they wanted a source that could take care of all areas they were shipping too.

Our initial plan was to partner with freight forwarders in the various countries and then purchase them when the business reached a critical level. It appears once our services were known they instantly went critical. We were buying brokerages as fast as we could. I say we, it is wonderful to have a staff.

Now the issue was merging all these different companies into a common business model. Besides different forms, currencies, laws there were also many languages, it is wonderful to have a staff. Along those lines Jim informed me we were going to have to expand. Our landlord was making two more floors of the building available. I thought that a lot but found out that we probably would outgrow it in six months. It is wonderful to have Dad as a landlord.

One of the next orders of business was to set up a full HR Department for local hiring and then integrate all of the foreign offices with headquarters. It would be a daunting task. The first thing HR would have to do is hire someone to run the Division. The Scottish Lines staff was proving to be very helpful in identifying people around the world to bring on board. No matter how I hated it we would also have to hire some relatives of important leaders in many of the countries. It was a reality of doing business.

By that time I had to head to the Mexicali Delight Brewery where Warren Smith and my parents were waiting. Warren had brought the sample lids which had been cut at different depths. He had fifty of each of the three cuts.

The Mexicali GM who for some reason looked very familiar to me showed a lot of interest in the project. After a tour of the brewery and just before they shut down for the day my lids were fed into the line. They passed the first test of going onto the line without bursting.

After they were filled each of us opened one can of each thickness. Again they all opened with no problems. Next would be warming the beer up while having it undergo a test on a shaker bed for twenty four hours. If warm beer could be shaken at the same amplitude as a semi-truck bouncing down the road we would have a product.

As we were saying our goodbyes the GM Mr. Echeveria ask Mum to say “Hi” to Mrs. Hernandez. It clicked that he was the man at the Christmas dinner.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 2

My morning started off well with a pleasant run. After cleaning up I joined Dad at breakfast. We had plans for the day or at least one plan.

There was one loose end that had to be tied up before I went to England. We had tried to drop a box with Jason Talmadges bones off of Catalina Island but were foiled by a fly in breakfast. I rented a plane at Ontario and met Dad at the same airport as before. This time it only had two cars at the restaurant. I landed and Dad brought the box over and got on board.

The flight was only an hour round trip and Jason was now to be found where the authorities thought he would be. Of course if that box was ever brought up and his remains identified it would open many questions. I doubted that would ever happen and it was so long ago that no one would care.

The box had been stored in the safe located in the subbasement. Dad mentioned that the only thing left in the safe other than some cash and gold coins was that box with that old clay cup. Did I want to do anything with it?

After a few moments thought I told him that I had no idea of what to do with it, and that it would wait. By the time we dropped the box, returned Dad to the little airport and I returned the rental plane to Ontario and got back home it was lunch time.

After lunch I hit the books for three hours. From Alfred the Great to the Domesday Book to Macmillan I felt like I was getting a handle on the subject. I think after Churchill, Disraeli was the most interesting of the Prime Ministers. Without question Lord Nelson was the quintessential British sailor.

That session mentally exhausted me for the day. I drove on down to the beach and checked out the beach house construction. Progress had been made but it still seemed to drag on. After that it was back home and the English history books.

I wanted to do well on the examinations. English history was simple when compared to the rise and decline of the British Empire. What a glorious mess they made of things. And mess it was, looking at maps of the middle-east and what they had created I could see no good end in sight.

The first thing Friday morning was to call Mr. Norman in England. I was put directly through to him. After an exchange of pleasantries I explained why I had called.

He told me that he would have to make some phone calls and would have information ready for me by the time I got to England. He seemed intrigued by the idea of me being in England for a long stay. I asked him and was told that having a young looking messenger opened up several possibilities. Most of the messengers were very competent forty year old military retirees. They were considered to be as hard to identify as policemen.

After talking for a few minutes we made an appointment for Tuesday afternoon.

I would have to do very well on O-Levels and it would be best if I could pass at least four A-Level exams. If I did that the possibilities were open.

I then had a long run which helped me wake up. I mean no one should dream of the Crusades. A hearty breakfast and I then went for a ride on George. When I was in England Ben would exercise the horse.

He didn’t seem to mind ensuring that our entire stable had their workouts. It may have something to do with the fact that a female farrier would join him many days. I finally found out her name is Jane Linville.

After a long ride I cleaned up and joined the family in a limo for our luncheon date at the studio. It wasn’t Mary’s as there were no pictures taped to the back of the seats. How many five year olds have a limo dedicated for their use? Spoiled? Nah.

We were met at the front office by Sharon Wallace, Sharon Bronson and Anna Romanov. All the ladies did the kissy face thing even though they had seen each other in the last few days. We guys managed to avoid it. Mary announced that she wouldn’t push herself forward as children should be seen and not heard. I think there is part of the concept she doesn’t get.

Mr. Monroe was a perfect host for the luncheon which was set up in the executive dining room. There was pleasant conversation until after we had dessert and coffee. At that time he brought up the fact that we would be seeing daily rushes from, ‘Over the Ohio’ which had the potential of changing my image as an actor.

I had asked that those present view it and give their thoughts on this possible game changer. From there we proceeded to a projection room. This one was nicer than those out on the sets. This was more like a miniature movie theater. Eddie even asked if they had popcorn.

Sharon Wallace asked how he could even consider eating after that large lunch. He replied that it was not for eating but to throw at me on the screen. We had to explain this was common practice in the Jackson House basement. I thought this lese majeste would horrify those present. Instead Mr. Monroe stated he would see about getting a machine installed as he frequently had the same urge. Maybe a basket or two of rotten tomatoes should be kept on hand.

The projectionist started the film after we were settled. It started with the unknown killer shooting the Indian father and then knifing the mother. The camera then followed him chasing the young Indian girl with Tomahawk raised. At one point in the run the camera position is changed and we see the killers face for the first time in the movie.

Since I had been in the picture, and had seen the rushes earlier I wasn’t taken by surprise like the others present. The gasps told the story. They all had an idea what was coming but the reality was shocking.

The film stopped and the lights turned back on. At first my family and friends just sat there. Then they started talking all at once. I heard words like, evil, devil, malevolent, demonic and terrifying.

There was no question that shot raised an emotional response.

One person had said nothing. She just sat there sobbing. I stood up and moved over to Mary. I knelt down and asked her what was wrong.

“You changed, you are different, and I don’t like this scary Rick.”

“You know I am not really scary, that is just the makeup and me acting.”

“When we talk while waiting for our turn to audition the other kids say that you can only let out what is inside you. Do you have that evil person inside you?”

Anna Romanov stepped in and probably saved my life.

“Mary those kids have it only part right. A great actor can be a different person from what they really are. They are acting a part. They are not the part. Before today Rick has been a character actor. He has play Rick and what is inside him. In this film clip we saw Rick be something he isn’t. That is true acting.”

Mr. Monroe brought up, “Now Rick needs to make a decision and he wanted your thoughts on this. Does he want the world to see him as an actor and if so does he want them to see this. Some people will be confused and think this is the real Rick. Others will think he has stepped up his acting to a new level.”

“I can’t answer for Rick. I can answer for the studio. This scene will make the movie. What started out as a B-movie is now a brilliant piece of work worthy of an Oscar. Not only that, it will make money, a lot of money. If this scene is cut and redone with lower intensity it will go back to being a ho-hum show.”

At least my sister had stopped crying. A decision started amongst the group. All agreed with Miss Romanov and Mr. Monroe’s thoughts. I had taken the first step towards being considered an actor. Also as it stood the movie would play strong in the market place.

I was of mixed thoughts. I wanted the movie to make money, a lot of money. It would vindicate me as an actor and also as the one who had come up with the movie idea.

The next question was did I want to follow up on it. I had been ready to drop out of Hollywood and concentrate on school. If this movie played as we all thought I would have to follow up on the success. I might be able to wait six months but not much longer than that.

We talked all these issues until we started going in circles. Sharon Wallace finally summed it all up.

“By using the scene we have a strong movie that will showcase Rick as an actor, plus making it profitable. By going this route it does not lock him out of dropping movies and going to school. It just keeps his options open.”

Mary spoke up, “I can always tell Patti that my scary big brother will get her if she is mean to me.”

It sounds like we have a plan. I told Mr. Monroe to leave it as is.

Now the professionals, Mr. Monroe, Sharon Bronson, Anna Romanov and Sharon Wallace got into a discussion of how to leak insider information on this scene to build some industry buzz without giving the climax away.

At that point our family returned home. Well after stopping at a Dairy Queen on the way. It is kind of weird going to a Dairy Queen in a limo. For some reason people stared. I did hear my name in the back ground, but no one approached for an autograph which was nice.

I changed clothes at home and saddled up George. I rode over to the new old airfield to see how things were going. Dad had mentioned the cleanup had started.

For some reason I pictured a hundred guys with trash bags picking up beer cans. There were a hundred guys working, but only three on beer can duty. One of them was driving a D5 Caterpillar tractor shoving them into a pile. Then a front loader gathered them up and put them into a dump truck which hauled them to a pit which had been dug in a corner of the field. It looked like all the trash would go there then covered up, very efficient.

The entrance road had been cleared of weeds and even the tree in the middle was gone. You could tell where the stump had been ground down. A simple resurfacing of the road and it would be in good condition.

I hadn’t been there for more than a few minutes when a jeep came driving up to me. A man in a real smoky bear hat asked me what I was doing on government property. I explained who I was and he relaxed. Apparently he was aware of the whole story. I was told I was welcome anytime.

I was paying for the whole operation through my company so that seemed reasonable to me. He seemed to think he was giving me a gift. I hope that wasn’t going to be a problem down the road.

I was wearing a vest to cover up my shoulder holster. When I leaned forward to shake his hand he saw it. From the expression on his face I quickly pulled out the wallet with my Marshal’s badge. Whatever he had been going to say got lost as he turned and got in his jeep and drove away.

I guess I would find out someday what was going on.

Rather than wear out my welcome I left. I had seen what I had come for, the progress being made. At home I told Mum and Dad about the whole incident. They were as puzzled as I was.

Dad made a phone call to his higher up contact at the Forest Service and got an answer. The Forest Service was not armed except under very special circumstances like a grizzly bear needing put down. To have an armed person from another service on what they considered their own private property was disconcerting.

As a matter of fact the guy in the field had called his headquarters for clarification. There was no problem he just wanted to know if their partnership was with another Federal Agency or Jackson Enterprises as he had been told.

It turns out that I was reading way too much into the incident. You would think the Soviets had made me paranoid or something.

Speaking of being paranoid I had decided that being out on horseback with only a pistol was not enough. I was going to buy a scabbard and a new Winchester lever action rifle for heavier firepower. I didn’t feel any need to ask Mum and Dad if this was okay. I’m emancipated now.

Besides you could rely on them to always be on the side of heavier firepower.

After dinner it was back to the text books, this time it was calculus. I had heard this was the bane of college students. For some reason it almost sang to me.

Eddie had a scout patrol meeting on Saturday so at 10:00 I took him over to his patrol leader’s house. I once again drove the Ford Fairlane. There was nothing wrong with it other than it wasn’t my T-Bird. I had planned to wait in the car while Eddie went in for his forty-five minute meeting. They had to plan a menu for their next camping trip, decide who would bring what and what skills they would work on while they were there. The troop plan was to work on the hiking merit badge so they should pick something along those lines.

Eddie just barely got into the house when the Patrol Leader’s mother came out and invited me to join them out back at their pool. I hemmed and hawed but gave in. I got an eyeful when we got to the pool. There were three girls about my age in bikinis. One was the sister of the boy Eddie was visiting and the others next door neighbors.

Mom asked if I wanted anything to drink. As she went in to get the requested Coke I was joined by the girls. It quickly became apparent this was a bit of a setup. They knew Eddie was coming over, that I the actor was his older brother. It turns out that the patrols normally meet at the Scout House but they had convinced Donna Masters little brother Billy to have the meeting here instead.

They confessed all this cheerfully. I could be churlish and resent this, but hey three pretty girls went out of their way to meet me. Who was I to complain?

The other girls were Linda Harrison and Nancy Houston. Mrs. Masters brought me my Coke and joined us. I think this may have foiled part of the girl’s plans. What those plans might have been I could only imagine. I have quite an imagination.

Anyway it turned out to be a get to know a little about you and your life session. It was actually a pleasant conversation. In passing I can share that two of the girls were very well endowed blondes. The third Nancy was slender and dark haired.

As our conversation went on I found that I appreciated Nancy’s dry wit over the other girl’s appearance. There was not enough time to really get to know the girls that well or for any of us to let the others know how we were reacting.

When Eddie and the other guys came out we stood to leave and Donna handed me a note. It had three names and three phone numbers. Now I’m a guy and by definition not very smart when females are involved but I was smart enough to know this was the social equivalent of a stick of dynamite. Call one and the others would want to claw that girl’s and my eyes out. Fortunately they were only five digit numbers and the first was the same on all of them. After a quick glance I handed the note back to Donna.

When we got into the Ford I pulled a pen out of glove box and wrote the four digits I had memorized on the back of my hand.

While Eddie filled me in on their camping plans I tried to figure out how to call Nancy without causing war to break out. It would have to be after my trip to England so maybe the other girls wouldn’t be upset when I called her and not them. One can dream can’t one?

Boring as it may seem other than exercising I spent the rest of Saturday and all of Sunday studying and then packing for my Monday morning flight.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 3

I was able to get my exercises in before leaving for the airport. Mum went over things with me before I left. Yes Mum I have my ticket, yes Mum I have my hotel information, yes Mum I packed clean clothes including underwear, yes Mum I have my passports, yes Mum I have dollars and pounds. Boy, forget to pack shirts on a trip just once and they never forget.

I had also remembered the text books I was studying so I read all the way to LAX. That drive seemed to get longer all the time. I would be glad when the airstrip out back of the forest was finished and I could fly to LAX. That reminded me I had to price out hangers or rental facilities at LAX. A rich man’s work is never done.

As usual I was flying TWA. From the moment the curbside skycap took my luggage to exchanging my ticket for boarding passes I was recognized by the staff. This made the whole event smooth and cheerful.

The lady at the check in desk was taken aback when she asked if I had my passport.

“Yes Mum,” was not what she was expecting. She quickly recovered by asking if I had remembered clean underwear. At that point I gave up and nodded yes.

I had coffee in the Ambassador Club. They paged me to their front desk. They had a cart ready to take me to my gate. What service. It also had me signing autographs at the gate rather than in the hallway while trying to get to my flight. As they say, not their first rodeo.

It was easy to disengage when my flight was called for boarding. They called me up separately and before other passengers. That way I was able to get an aisle seat in row two. The rest of the first class passengers had to scramble to get a seat that they wanted. Maybe someday they would be able to assign seats before boarding.

It would make it easier on everyone. I hated to think what it would be like in coach class. Looking to the back of the aircraft you could see the aisle and window seats filling up as people boarded. This continued until all of those were taken. Then the center seats started to fill in. Fortunately not many people carried luggage on with them.

A big beefy guy sat next to me on the leg to St. Louis. He pulled out a spread sheet and was making notes before we got off the ground. While he did that I had more coffee and then breakfast when we were airborne. He kept working the whole trip. I did pull out a text book and read until I felt the urge to take a nap.

As we were taxiing in to the gate at St. Louis the guy spoke up for the first and only time on the flight.

“Enjoy it while you can kid, it won’t be as easy when you have to earn a living.”

“Good advice.”

What else could I say? We didn’t have time for a conversation and I didn’t want to be rude.

I didn’t bother to get off the plane as it was a short layover. I did give the flight crew autographs while we were waiting. Since I was the only one in first class that didn’t get off the plane it didn’t open up the floodgates.

Well almost. Murphy caught up with me as they announced a half hour delay to a minor maintenance delay. One of the flight attendants asked if I would go to the back of the plane and give autographs to the coach passengers. It would make the time go faster for everyone and keep them from getting restless.

Luckily I had a stack of studio photos in my briefcase. An announcement was made for those that had stayed on the plane that they had arranged for a Hollywood star to have an autograph session.

I proceeded to work my way to the back of the plane. Besides giving out over fifty autographs I collected seven phone numbers, three from young ladies, three from not so young ladies and one guy. I also got pinched on the butt. I swear the lady that did it was seventy five if she was a day.

When I glared at her she just said, “At my age you get what you can when and where you can.”

I couldn’t refute that logic so gave her a grin and moved away.

The leg from St. Louis to New York was uneventful. I had a three hour layover and boarded for London. The nice thing about being in New York was no one recognized me or if they did, they ignored me.

The flight to London was boring, well nothing was happening on the overnight flight. I finally gave up and covered with a blanket and slept like most of the other passengers.

Breakfast was served about two hours out. I had packed a small carry on with clean underwear, a shirt and shaving kit. I then went into one of the very small restrooms on the plane and cleaned up. I wish I had film of the contortions I had to go through to change clothes. Between new clothes, washing up and shaving it was worth it though as I looked and felt fresh.

I had learned the value of a good appearance in Hollywood. While most of the other passengers looked like refugees I came across as put together. A final cup of coffee and it was England here I come.

At passport control I used my updated British passport which listed me as Sir Richard Jackson. They processed me politely but I didn’t feel my title gained me anything.

I had nothing to declare so my entry was easy. Outside of the International Terminal there was a limo from the Plaza on the Strand waiting for me. The driver whisked me to the hotel where my luggage disappeared while I checked in. The bellhop who escorted me to my room was all Sir this, and Sir that. I figured it would cost me about a dollar a Sir.

Once settled in I took a nap being certain to phone for a wakeup call in two hours. After a nice sleep I shower and dressed in jeans and shirt with a heavy pullover sweater. I then went for a walk around the area.

I ended up at Westminster Abby so took a tour. After that it was a roundabout trip through Kensington and Piccadilly Circus. It was then back past Waterloo Station and St. Paul’s Cathedral. It was a long windy trip but I enjoyed it immensely. The weather was typical English for January, cold with a misty fog which was slow to clear. At the front desk they told me I had just missed a nice patch of dry sunshine the first week of January.

After being out all afternoon I was ready to return to my room. I took another shower, donned a suit and had dinner in the main dining room. I was the youngest one there by almost fifty years. Not a place to go for excitement. After dinner I spent the evening studying and called it an early night.

On Tuesday I felt really good. Dressing for a run I talked the front desk into having me driven over to Hyde Park for my morning run. As I was running along Rotten Row a person on horseback almost bowled me over. Apparently they and their horse were paying no attention as they were coming towards me.

I had to jump out of their way.

I let out a sharp, “Watch it!”

The person, a female by the clothes didn’t acknowledge me other than a rude hand jester. I did notice the markings on the horse which was a white blaze between its eyes continuing on down its nose.

That certainly had my heart rate up. From there I turned and jogged back to the hotel. I had found trying to run at my full, well still not that fast, speed on city streets was not a good idea. I could run into things and it got police attention as though I were a thief running for it.

The return trip did cool me down. A hot shower, a full English breakfast of bacon, eggs, fried potatoes, toast, coffee, and juice, and I was good to go for the day. Since my appointment with Mr. Norman was after lunch I went to the British Museum.

I could spend days in this group of buildings. This morning I browsed through the recently rebuilt Coins and Medals department. It had been destroyed in the war. The more ancient coins reminded me of that cup in the safe at home. I wonder what its story is; I wouldn’t even know where to begin.

I had lunch at a greasy fish and chips shop, and then had to find a place to wash my hands. A look into their loo drove me away. It was in Bloomsbury still near the museum so I used one of their public water closets. I was trying to think in British English to fit in.

From there I caught a black cab to Buckingham Palace. I thought the cab driver would be impressed with my destination, but apparently he took people there all the time. Thinking about it, he probably did, they called them tourist!

I had remembered to wear my Greyhound pin on my lapel, so that with my passport and a phone call to ensure my arrival was expected a footman led me to Mr. Norman.

After the usual pleasantries and inquiries about my trip, I brought up the subject of my trip. What were the requirements for me to sit for my O-levels and possibly the A-levels?

He explained that anyone could pay for and sit for the levels. The question was I ready for them. We both agreed that the O- levels should be no problem but the A-level might because of differences in the US and British instructions. They were given by approved private companies. The same company would also provide a readiness test for each exam you wanted to sit for. It was common for students outside of England wanting to sit for the exams so provisions had been made.

He had set me up with a group called International Testing. They specialized in seeing where foreign students fit within the English curriculum. Another advantage of their service was that they didn’t have testing seasons. Normal testing groups had registration deadlines, exam dates etc. They needed this as they were handling the bulk of English students.

International Testing did everything by special appointment. Of course they charged about five times as much per test. This seemed to be the best route for me so Mr. Norman called and confirmed an appointment for me to meet with one of their councilor’s tomorrow morning.

After that he and I had a conversation about where my life was going. He wanted to know if I was doing anymore songs with Frank Sinatra. I told him that Mr. Sinatra was on me to do another duet. He asked if he could get a recording when released and have our autographs.

It seemed so weird that this stern looking older man was a fan of such music. You would think he would be attending Beethoven concerts or listening to highbrow chamber music. Actually as we conversed I found out that he did.

He was most interested when I told him that I had a six passenger plane being delivered in March or April. He wanted to know if I planned to bring it to England with me, if I attended school here. I hadn’t thought about it, but it would open a world of possibilities.

Mr. Norman told me that it opened possibilities for the Messenger Service. They were mostly comprised of retired military that traveled on commercial airlines. A young man like me with my own transportation might help when needed quickly.

We went on to talk about what university I might attend. I told him that I wanted to look at the Engineering program at the Imperial University in London. He asked me if I was actually in a hurry to obtain an Engineering degree.

I thought that an odd question.

He explained, “Richard from what I know you will never actually hold a job, well I guess your singing and acting are jobs, but you know what I mean.”

So the question becomes why are you going to school? For a man there are two valid reasons, obtain a technical degree to earn a living, or make contacts which will stand you well in later years. Which is the most important to you?

I had never looked at it that way. It was similar in reasoning as Mum had put it in the past, socialization and relating to my peer group. I started to open my mouth and remembered something else I had learned. If you have time, don’t make a decision until you have given it mature thought.

“That is a lot to think about Mr. Norman. What you are presenting is similar to what my parents have talked about in the past. I have to think this through. In the meantime I will take the evaluation exams to see where I stand. If I do poorly this may be all for naught.”

At least he laughed at that.

“I don’t think that will be a concern Sir Richard.”

He glanced at his watch. “

“We have an appointment with Her Majesty in five minutes so we had better move on.”

This was news to me.

Her Majesty was very welcoming. She asked the usual questions about my trip. She then came out with the real reason I was here with her.

“I understand from your Mum that you are undecided in which direction to go with your education, a technical degree or an opportunity to socialize with your peers.”

Well I didn’t have to give this any more mature thought. Mum and Dad were pushing in a direction and were joined by the Queen of England the writing was on the wall. Next I would be getting a phone call from the President of the United States.

The Queen continued, “In my last conversation with President Eisenhower your name came up. He agrees that it is important for you to make acquaintance early on with those who you will be dealing with later in your life.”

“What would your Majesty suggest?”

“If your exams go right, and I’m sure they will it would be most pleasing if you applied to University College at Oxford.”

I heard the royal ‘We’ in that sentence.

“If they will accept me I will consider that.”

“We are certain they will.”

Well that fix was in.

After that I was dismissed. I made certain to back out of the room. Fortunately the door was nearby and I didn’t tip over any vases.

I was driven back to my hotel where I collapsed and thought about what had transpired this afternoon. The way I read it, my parents had connived with the Crown to get what they thought best for me. Maybe they were right. I noticed recently that my parents seemed to be getting smarter than they were several years ago.

After dinner I worked formulas from my book on Statistics. I could see where this could be very handy when trying to interpret a mound of data. Another good thing about statistics, it can put you to sleep easily.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 4

Wednesday morning after my morning routine I headed to my appointment with International Testing. Unlike California where sport coat and polo shirt were normal in England it was suit and tie. Informal was not wearing the waistcoat.

I was informal for my interview. My appointment was with a Mr. Clark. He had me describe my education to date. He frowned and smiled so much while I was describing it I had no idea how it was really being received.

He was able to put my worries to rest, or at least calm them.

“Sir Richard you appear to be very driven with self-education. There is no doubt this is the best way. The only question is did you learn the correct material.”

After discussion it was decided that I would take the evaluation examinations for English Language, English Literature, Modern History, Latin, Economy, Spanish, Mathematics, Additional Mathematics, Chemistry, Biology, and Science (including Physics). He was a little taken aback about my refusal to take a Music exam.

Each of the exams would be one and a half hours; the real exam would be three hours. I was asked when I could sit for them. I responded that I was ready today. Since these were only evaluation exams they were able to sit me in a room with the testing materials along with a proctor.

After writing a cheque for an insanely large amount, at least in my experience I was allowed to start the tests immediately. I did English Language before lunch. I had an hour break for lunch. I had a pot pie at a pub next door. After lunch it was English Literature, a half hour break then Modern History. They were being given in the exact order I had discussed with Mr. Clark.

I felt that I had at least passed each of the exams. Did I pass them enough to be recommended for the full examination? Time would tell. Since it was my money I was free to pay for and take any of the exams. They were giving their estimation on my ability to pass the full exam. It was all at my risk.

I had no problem falling asleep at an early hour.

The next morning I went through my normal routine then appeared at International Testing or IT as they called it. Two exams in the morning, two in the afternoon and I didn’t have two thoughts to rub together. I went for a long walk by the Thames after changing into comfortable clothes. It was raining and those umbrellas that I had been sneering at looked good all of a sudden. I might carry an umbrella but never the homburg.

Friday was damp to say the least. I took a taxi to Harrods and bought an umbrella. From there it was to IT for the last of my exams. By the time I finished the last one brain dead was too kind. Not only did I not have two thoughts to rub together I’m not certain I had even one. I was to come back Monday morning to review the results and decide on a further course of action. I would either take revision courses to pass at least seven O-levels, or if I passed seven the evaluations tests for A-Levels. I felt confident on passing enough O-levels that I could take the actual exams.

It was nice to have the week end off. I went for a really long run around Hyde Park. There were several groups of riders but none of them had a horse with a large white blaze on its face. I ate lunch at a small outdoor café on Piccadilly Circus, on or in I’m not certain how to say that.

There were street vendors galore with interesting and not so interesting items. I picked up small gifts for the family. Nothing exciting just things from England, I bought Mum a set of Coronation Flags from every King and Queen back to Victoria. Dad got a whistle from World War I which was used to signal going over the top of the trenches for an assault.

I looked at the adverts in the Daily Telegraph for flats to rent. Staying in a hotel was already getting old. After reading the ads I was more confused than ever. I didn’t know the neighborhoods in London and besides that I realized I had no idea of how long I would actually be in London.

It was late enough in the day I called home and talked to my parents for over an hour. That would be some phone bill. I didn’t care because they helped me in several ways.

After a thorough discussion of the benefits of going to Oxford vs. trying to start at London Imperial immediately, I realized that maybe I was pushing too fast. Why not settle into a college life without the academic pressure?

Of course it all depended on how I did on my O and A level exams.

Another thing I hadn’t thought of was renting a full suite here at the Plaza. Apparently on a long term arrangement you could redecorate your rooms and even replace the furniture. As Dad pointed out I could afford the rooms forever if I wanted. It would be very pricey but I would always have a place available in London.

I decided that I would talk to the Hotel Manager and see what could be done.

Not one to put things off I went to the Lobby after hanging up and telling everyone in the family I loved them.

Since it was the weekend an Assistant Manager was running the office. When I explained what I was looking for he had all the answers. Expensive answers but good answers. There was a penthouse three bedroom suite available with separate living and dining rooms. There was also a full kitchen. He took me up to show me the rooms.

What he hadn’t mentioned they were large rooms. The furniture was too heavy for my taste but I was assured they could put it all into storage while I used whatever I wanted.

There was a large patio off of the living room. I mentioned it was a shame there was no swimming pool. The Assistant Manager laughed and told me the old girl (the hotel) couldn’t stand the strain. There were also two reserved parking spaces in the parking garage that went with the room plus valet parking privileges. There would also be the normal hotel room services continued, if I wanted to host a party that would be by special arrangement.

That all sounded good. The suite was available for a mere ten thousand US dollars a month. The Assistant must have thought this price would freak me out. However I knew what was paid in Hollywood and the Waldorf in New York so was prepared for the price. Knowing all that I had time to think about my finances and realized it would be no strain whatsoever. Based on that, I told him that I had to see some exam results on Monday, if they were as anticipated I would take it.

Changing into jeans, and a sweater I then went to the movies. I had so much to think about I don’t remember the movie. After dinner I pulled out a new novel. It was about a Monastery in the American Southwest which was preserving scientific knowledge after an atomic war.

Sunday the sun actually peeked out so my morning run was pleasant. There was still no sighting of the horse with a large blaze on its head. I had pretty well gotten over my peeve of the reckless rider. It had been a foggy day with poor visibility. I still wondered what the girl looked like.

I wandered the streets of London for the rest of the day but nothing really caught my attention. Well there are a lot of pretty girls in London and it was a sunny day so it wasn’t a waste.

When I returned to the hotel the Assistant Manager was waiting for me.

“Sir Richard you will understand that we took the liberty of making certain you could afford the penthouse and that your parents would support you. We didn’t realize that you are emancipated and have the funds in your own right.”

He must have spoken to Mum.

“I’m very sorry if you are offended by this but we needed to do due diligence.”

Yep he had talked to Mum.

“I understand, you have a business to run and it is a large sum of money.”

“Thank you for your understanding Sir Richard.”

He gave a deep bow when he said this. It was so deep I thought he would tip over.

Now I know he had talked to Mum.

I asked him if they knew of any decorators that could help me redo the suite and purchase new furniture. Of course they did. The decorator would be available as soon as we signed a contract. I told him that I hoped it would be tomorrow afternoon. I would know where I stood with my exams by them.

This led into a brief talk about what exams I would be taking. He seemed impressed that I was considering eleven of them if my evaluations came out.

After that it was to my room to finish up the book about the Monastery and an early night of it. I was anxious to see what the morrow would bring.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 5

I was waiting at Testing Internationals door’s when they opened on Monday. My appointment was first thing and I wanted to know how I had done. Mr. Clark followed me in the door. He didn’t seem surprised that I was already there. I asked him and he replied that many a student was there before the doors opened.

As we walked to his office he told me, “For you, it’s good news, bad news situation.”

With a sinking stomach I asked for the bad news first.

“You can take all of the exams. The good news is you passed all of the evaluations.”

I may have shot people for less or at least thought about it.

In his office he went over each of the evaluations with me. The only ones that appeared to be on the edge were Additional Mathematics and Biology. Neither was a surprise. I had done well enough they encouraged me to take all of the exams but if I were to have trouble it would be on those.

Eleven three hour examinations, whew! Mr. Clark encouraged me to take one today and then no more than two a day and leave a day between exams. If I started today it would take all of the next two weeks.

As much as I wanted to get them over with, that schedule made the most sense. When we talked about the order I only asked that the Biology and Additional Math be left until last. That made sense to Mr. Clark and he even offered me study packets for the two courses that were directed at the exam.

We agreed on English as the first exam. Since I had hours until lunch and the exam he set me up in an office with a study packet. This set the pattern for the next two weeks. I would go over the study packets for a specific exam. In my other free time I was working on Biology and Additional Math. I was worried about Biology the most as I wasn’t in a position to cut things up like they did in formal classes.

On the Monday after my first exam I did get a contract signed with the hotel. They would start the process of emptying the Penthouse Suite for me and painting it where needed. Since the walls were all a neutral white I had no issues. I put off talking to a decorator until after my exams were done.

I spent every waking moment either, exercising, studying or taking exams. It was as an intense a period of my life that I could remember. Thinking back to final exams in Bellefontaine they were nothing.

It seemed to take forever and seemed to fly by. I finished up on a Friday afternoon and had to wait until Monday for the results. Again I was at the front door when they opened. This time Mr. Clark had beat me in and was waiting in his office. He didn’t try to make it suspenseful this time.

“Rick you did well on all of your examinations. Your worse grade was a C in Biology.”

“You received an A in English Language, English Literature, Modern History, Latin, Economy, Spanish, Mathematics, Chemistry, and Science. Then there is a B in Additional Mathematics and a C in Biology. Overall passing eleven O-Levels are very impressive results. This would be the top for a person in year twelve.”

“So what should I do for A-Levels?”

“If I were you I would take all of those you received an A in.”

“Did I miss an A in Additional Mathematics by very much?”

Mr. Clark reviewed the exam and results and told me no, only by three points.

“Then I think I would like to take it also. I suspect Biology is hopeless.”

“Your C is a low C. I think we can count that out.”

“So should I do the same sort of schedule as the O-Levels?”

“That would work but I want you to take the next two days off, the last two weeks have been very stressful on you. I know you had the weekend off, but you had to be thinking about the exam results. We have found students do better if they have some time to decompress.”

“I can’t argue with that, so I will be taking two exams every other day starting on Wednesday?”

“Yes that will finish you off, Friday week.”

“Sounds like a plan.”

“What are your intentions for the next two days?”

“I’m going to practice archery, quarterstaff and swordplay. I thought about studying but that would be self-defeating at this point.”

“Good, I’m glad you understand. If I may ask where can you practice in the city?”

“I usually go to the Tower or a Queens park outside of town.”

“You must know someone of influence.”

“Queen Elizabeth is my Godmother.”

“That would do it. See you Wednesday morning here at nine.”

On the way back into the hotel the Assistant Manager caught me. They had the rooms cleaned out and repainted, would I like to see them. Of course I did.

The rooms were enormous without anything in them. I had been window shopping on my walks through London so I had an idea of what I wanted. The rooms would look like 1960 rather than 1860.

In particular there was an Eames Lounge Chair in brown leather that I had to have. The furniture by Jacobson, and Saarinen were particularly nice while a Knoll Couch would be perfect.

I asked if the Decorator would be available tomorrow. She would. From there I changed clothes and called Mr. Norman. I owed him an update on my test results and it also gave me a chance to ask about going to the tower to practice quarterstaff work.

We chatted for a few minutes and hung up while he made another call. Calling me right back he told that there was nobody available for the next several days. That took care of that thought.

So it was back to the good old run until you are ready to drop. It certainly took my mind off the examinations. After that I called Jackson House and updated them on my exams. I received words of congratulations and encouragement from the family.

Mary wanted to know when I was coming home. I told her it would probably be a few more weeks. The way she sighed made me think my little actress had gained a new talent. I asked Mum about that and she confirmed my thoughts. Mary had been practicing sighing for several days. Would I like her shipped over to me?

Tuesday was a nothing day. I tried running but was bored quickly. Returning to the hotel I tried reading fiction and studying, neither worked to distract me. After lunch I met with the lady decorator. My first reaction to her was that she was a snob. Once we got talking furniture and going through the catalogs she had brought with her she was a different person.

You could tell she really enjoyed what she was doing. When I told her my thoughts about 1960 rather than 1860 she was enthusiastic. As a matter of fact she asked if we could be followed by a photographer. The redoing of the Plaza Penthouse would make a wonderful magazine layout.

There were many pictures of the before Penthouse so that would not be an issue. I initially wondered if people knowing where I lived would be a problem but then realized it was not a state secret.

I told her she could proceed with the entire project. To say Dorothy May Kinnicutt was happy was an understatement. She had been designing for a while but needed a breakthrough to gain an international reputation. She told me to call her Sister as all her friends did.

When I told Mum about it she asked for Sister’s phone number as she had some questions. Not being completely dense I asked Mum if she would coordinate everything with Sister and present me with a finished product. I told her I was impressed with how my office was done up in LA and would like that carried through.

From her response I knew I had dodged a bullet. It worked out well, Mum was happy, Sister had a project. I would have a suite of rooms in London without having to do the scut work. Good job Rick!

Wednesday was a test day. I made certain I had a good night’s sleep before and a moderate workout followed by a light breakfast. This was followed by taking a cab over to IT for the first test.

After that I ate a slightly larger lunch and spent the balance of my time walking.

Then I took the second A-Level of the day.

Thursday I spent two hours revising on materials provided by IT. This was mainly passing papers submitted for previous tests. It gave an idea of what was being looked for. Today it was to be in essay form. It seemed to follow what I had seen previously on a Latin test. Bend the answer into material you had already put together. So I did exactly that.

The next day the exams flowed, or at least they seemed to, the only hitch was in I had read the requirements wrong. If I had it would be a disaster. Time will tell.

For the weekend Mr. Norman had arranged for me to go out to the Queen’s park I had been too previously. There I met several men who were from different branches of the service. It was a fun day of martial arts, sword fighting, quarterstaff work, archery and even some boxing.

I held my own in all but boxing.

Sunday was a day of revision and preparation for Monday’s exams.

The next week was a repeat of the previous as I took care to have plenty of rest, eat well but not overeat and get exercise. I was so glad to see the end of the week. Now all I had to do was to get through the weekend and see how my test results came out. That would decide what I was going to do for the next several years.

I was wrung out enough that the thought of going to Oxford for three years and working on a low pressure BA sounded good. It could be fun as I would be with guys more my own age. While sixteen would be young, a lot of the first years would be seventeen, since I would be seventeen in October that was not a wide gap. Plus I would be bigger than most of them so they wouldn’t even guess my age.

Saturday I went to a park and watched a cricket match. I have no idea of what was going on. It was like attending a baseball game in that the crowd was laid back most of the time, then some excitement when something happened. Somehow I don’t think it is a game for me. Now watching the pretty girls on the sidelines was a nice way to spend the day. I didn’t try to introduce myself to any of them as they were probably there to watch their boyfriends play.

Walking back to the hotel I almost made an American mistake. I didn’t look in the correct direction as I stepped off the curb. A sharp honk of a horn saved me. The driver of the car, a young lady made a very rude hand gesture as she went past. She looked familiar. Nah, it couldn’t be.

There was a message for me at the hotel. I returned Mr. Normans call. He asked if I had any plans for the rest of today and Sunday. I told him none what so ever. He asked me to a take an overnight boat across the channel and deliver a small package to the British Embassy in Paris. I replied I would be glad to as I was just wasting time until Monday when I would receive my A-Level results. I took a black cab to the Palace where the package and my tickets were waiting. It would be a quick trip. Train to Dover, Ferry Boat to Calais, train from Calais to Paris, drop off package, return to Calais then overnight to Dover where I would catch a train to London.

That sounded tiring even reading the itinerary. I called Mr. Norman from the front desk and asked him if I must take the trip as laid out. He wanted to know what I had in mind. I told him I would like to fly to Paris in the morning and drop off the package and return later in the day.

“Sir Richard you can do that but it would be at your own expense. We have a budget to maintain and the Ferry/Train tickets are much less expensive than airfare.”

“If that is the case I will fly. I will leave the tickets here at the desk.”

I returned to the hotel and talked to the concierge who in turn called a travel agent. Just like that my trip was arranged. It would be an hour flight to Paris and an hour back, all in the same day. This was a much better use of my time.

Clever boy, now what was I going to do for the rest of the afternoon? I may have outsmarted myself.

That solved its self. I was paying off my cabby at the hotel when a group of boys my age ran by, not at a dead run, more like a jog. I asked what that was about. It turns out they were Hashing. A person called the Hare would lead them on a chase. The Hare would mark their trail by bits of paper or flour left at the turns. The object was to chase the Hare until you found the Pub they were finishing at and have a party.

Since I had been to a cricket match I was dressed in jeans, polo shirt and running shoes. Having nothing better to do I finished paying the cabby and took off. Tally Ho.

I caught up with their tail end Charlies in short order. I was content to run with them until I understood what was going on. The pace was such that we could actually talk. They quickly realized that I was a Yank that had no idea of what was going on. They couldn’t have been nicer.

It turns out there were no winners or losers in this run, that is unless you made a wrong turn and lost the course. Some clubs tried to be tricky, this one wasn’t. They called themselves the Hash House Harriers after an earlier famous club.

It took us another hour to finish the course. It didn’t seem too difficult. In the center of the intersection we had to turn at there was a dash of flour, you then had decide which way to go, right, left, or straight. About fifty feet down the correct route was more flour. This gave course confirmation.

Of course when twenty people got to an intersection they would go in all three directions, once the correct one was identified the others would turn back and join them. Depending on your choices you could have a long or short day. I noticed a lot of people held back, especially those who looked older. They let the kids do the running.

Even though I was a kid I decided to let the youngsters run. This gave me a chance to really talk to the other runners. They were of all ages and occupations. I just identified myself as Rick Jackson an American at loose ends for the day.

It was fun. At the end at the pub more people introduced themselves. I got roped into a game of darts and quickly found out that these people were serious about their darts. One game was enough for me, and I suspect them. All in all it was a pleasant evening with nothing accomplished other than relaxation. Maybe I should have more of these.

Sunday was an early flight to Paris. Going through immigration and customs was ho hum. They took one look at my passport, asked when I was returning to England and waved me through. Using a cab with one of the crazier cab drivers I ever had, I dropped the package off at the British Embassy. I had no idea how long I would be inside so I paid the driver off hoping the next one would be better.

I wasn’t in the Embassy for more than ten minutes. They had a car and driver return me to the airport. I found out that if I had called them they would have picked me up. Good to know.

I sat in the first class lounge for several hours reading the afternoon paper and then had an uneventful trip back to my hotel home. The newspaper did carry a story about an explosion in a stateroom on one of the cross channel ferries. Fortunately the room wasn’t occupied.

 

Chapter 6

The next day I was about to go down to breakfast when there was a knock at the door. This time of day was very unusual so I used the keyhole window in the door. There were two men in suits standing there. I left the chain on the door and edged it open. The man in front held out a badge wallet case with an ID card.

“Sir Richard we are from MI5 and would like to have a word.”

Every spy story I had ever read went through my mind.

“I will need to check out your identity before I allow you in.”

To say they were not pleased was an understatement but it wasn’t my job to please them. They passed two business cards through the door. I looked up the public number for MI5 and made an inquiry. It only took several minutes to establish they were for real. I let them in after that.

“Why are you so cautious Sir Richard?”

“Some Russian lads have it in for me.”

“That may tie into why we are here. You were booked on a cross channel ferry last night but you cancelled the reservation. Last night there was an explosion in that room that would have killed you if you were there.”

That left me cold.

“Why did you cancel your reservation?”

“I decided to fly instead it would be a much easier trip.”

“What was your trip about?”

It then dawned on me the right hand did not know what the left hand was doing. I told them to wait a minute and retrieved my Diplomatic passport which identified me as a Queens Messenger.

This took them aback.

“You said some Russian lads were upset with you, who are they?”

“The KGB.”

“Sir Richard I think this is deeper than our remit. We were told to interview the passenger who didn’t make the crossing and find out if they had any idea what was going on. It seems this is a lot deeper than we thought.”

“I suspect it is. I suggest that someone in your organization contacts the Palace and MI6. They can give you a clearer picture, also the CIA and FBI if you have time.”

You could see them getting more nervous all the time, what were they getting into.

“Do you have any official standing other than a Queens Messenger?”

I collected my US Marshal badge and wallet with ID and showed it to them.

“How old are you?”

“Sixteen.”

The more senior looking of the two asked if he could use my telephone. He called his office and was having a spirited conversation. When he hung up he asked me a question.

“Is your Mum the Viscountess Jackson?”

“Yes sir.”

They left shortly thereafter with a caution to be careful. Now that was helpful.

I had to miss breakfast to make my appointment at IT to see my exam results.

I passed everything with at least a C.

“You received an A in English Language, English Literature, Economy, Spanish, Mathematics, Chemistry, and Science. B’s in Modern History, Latin. Then there is a C in Additional Mathematics. Overall passing ten A-Levels are very impressive results. You would be accepted by any University in the world. Sir Richard you have our congratulations and best wishes.”

“Thank you.”

About that time a secretary knocked on the door.

“Sir a ride is waiting for Sir Richard.”

Now I hadn’t asked for any rides. When I looked out the front door there was a familiar face. James Barclay was standing next to a Bentley. As soon as he saw me he opened the car door so I made a bee line for it.

“Until this is sorted out we thought we had better keep track of you.”

“I appreciate it.”

We didn’t drive to the Palace, instead went to a nondescript building with an indoor garage. There was a guard at the entrance to the garage. He raised a gate for us to enter. Once inside we exited the car and went up an elevator. Upon exiting the elevator James had to show some identification to a guard sitting at a table across from the elevator door. The guard had a short barreled shotgun on the desk. I would bet there would be a round chambered.

We went to an office that can only be described as civil service nondescript. It was probably issued around 1930. It matched the drab green of the walls. The only thing hanging on the wall was the obligatory picture of the Monarch. The picture reinforced my estimation of the year as it was George the Fifth.

The man behind the desk did not fit the room. If there was a real James Bond this is how he would look and dress.

He introduced himself as Bond, James Bond. The look on my face must have been priceless as he and James Barclay roared with laughter.

“I always wanted to do that to someone.”

“Well you got me good.”

“My real name is Nigel Montgomery, very distant relation. This is an MI6 office which we try not to use very often to keep it safe.”

“Do you have any idea who and why someone is trying to kill me?”

“We do, it was a very amateur attempt by a low level IRA gunman. He worked on the Ferry. When he saw your name on the passenger list he saw an opportunity to use the quarter stick of dynamite that he had lying around. It doesn’t seem to go any deeper than that. We had you picked up as soon as we knew what was going on. Don’t want you going Cowboy on us.”

I don’t think I will ever live my Secret Service call sign down.

“Well that’s a relief. I wondered if I was going to have to return to Jackson House and stay inside for the rest of my life.”

“We think you are safe for now. However you are a high profile person in certain circles and could become a target of opportunity so use some common sense in where you go. Now James I think Mr. Norman would like to talk to Sir Richard, please take him to the Palace.”

I was whisked through Palace security like it wasn’t there. Mr. Norman was standing in his office waiting for me.

“My poor boy we didn’t think for a moment anything like this would happen. It was to be a boring messenger run, to show you what it is really like.”

“Well the actual trip was boring, it was afterwards that got interesting and I was never in any actual danger once I varied my route.”

“Yes and that is a lesson well learned. As a matter of fact we are going to be reviewing how all our messenger trips are organized. I’m afraid we have got too complacent.”

“That can happen.”

“Yes well I wanted to reassure you that this was far from ordinary. In the meantime Her Majesty would like to have a word.”

“Yes sir.”

James led me to the Queens apartment and waited outside. The Queen was there so I entered the room, giving the small head bow, and formal Your Majesty.

“Sir Richard, are you alright?”

“Yes Ma’am.”

“I’m so glad. I just got off the phone with Peg. She told me you would handle it okay but I wanted to know myself, now on to more important matters. Congratulations on your A-levels. Have you decided what you are going to do about schooling?”

“Ma’am I’m going to see if one of the colleges at Oxford will have me.”

“They will. Which one do you want?”

“I don’t know enough at this point to choose.”

“Understood, I will have you briefed on what is possible considering that you should keep a low profile. Now young man I must see you off. I have a luncheon and I suspect you would eat somewhere other than with a bunch of old fuddy duddies.”

You come up with a good answer to that!

“Yes Ma’am.”

At that the Queen laughed and I back out of the room.

It was actually early afternoon and I was really getting hungry. Another of the Palaces fleet of Bentleys dropped me off at my hotel. Bentley would never go out of business as long as there was a Monarchy. Instead of going into the hotel I went around the corner and down an alley to a fish and chips shop I had found.

I think Victoria was Queen the last time a health inspector had been in. The wooden floor was worn down to a grey patina, the walls got darker the higher you looked from many generations of cigarette smoke. The ceiling was an embossed metal repeating design.

The fish was a white flaky North Atlantic Cod; the large cut chips a golden brown with just the right amount on salt. The vinegar was like a Malt Vinegar but must have been a secret recipe. Mr. Treacher was the perfect host, making one feel as though they were in a high class restaurant instead of a hole in the wall dump.

Dump or not the food was wonderful. I wish they had this in America.

From there I took a cab to the British Museum with the intention of browsing until dinner. I was looking at the exhibit of drawings from the Hans Sloan collection. The drawings were okay but I was more impressed by the fact that he was credited with the invention of Chocolate Milk.

I was leaving the area when I saw a young lady stumble into a life size statue. It started to tip so I lunged towards it and caught it before it went completely over. The only problem was I was off balance and the statue was very heavy. I couldn’t hold it up so yielded to its weight was slowly as I could. In this manner I was able to lower myself and the statue without harming the statue.

Of course I was then trapped on the floor with about five hundred pounds of statue pinning me there. I wheezed out to the girl who had stopped and turned. She gave me a crooked grin and then made a crude hand gesture. I recognized that hand!

A museum guard had seen the whole incident and had the statue lifted in a few minutes. I must say they seemed to care more about the condition of the statue than me. By this time the young lady had disappeared. I wondered what she had against me.

After they helped me up and dusted me off the guards were more attentive.

“Young man that was a fine thing you did, risking your life over a marble statue.”

“Well it was not thought through. I saw it topple and grabbed it.”

About that time a group of museum authorities showed up and wanted to know what had happened. The guard who had witnessed the whole event described it in detail. The young lady who I swore had fair blonde hair became a brunet. She went from tall and fair to short and dark skinned.

I looked at the guard when he was done with his description. He winked at me and mouthed, “It was an accident.”

It was so I let it go. Still she should stop with the gestures.

Of course I had to give my name and they made a fuss about me being the man who saved the Queen. Just what I needed more publicity. A member of the press, The Times I think had a few questions. From the tone of the questions it was what sort of gormless person would jump under a five hundred pound falling piece of marble.

Actually when I thought about it he was correct. Anyway I called it a day. It was back to the hotel. My new digs weren’t ready yet so I was stuck in my small suite. Oh woe is me. Well I had survived the O and A Level exams so now had to get into a college at Oxford. I now had to wonder if any would accept a gormless American. After that I should head back to America and see what was going on at home.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 7

I had a lot of things to do after my exercise and brekky on Tuesday. First was to arrange a flight back to the US. Then I had to pack. Well they weren’t hard to do. A trip to the concierge desk took care of the flight and I left most of my clothes in place I would take one change of casual clothes, a shaving kit and reading material. There would be no checked baggage.

Leaving clothes there made me think about what clothes I had in the US. It wouldn’t take much to have similar wardrobes in each country. That way I would never have to check bags again.

Next was to call Mr. Norman at the Palace. I had to see him about my attending Oxford. My timing was fortuitous as he was about to call me. If possible I was to come to the Palace at 2:00 for a meeting on Oxford. It was possible.

So after my hard work for the day, all forty five minutes’ worth, I read until lunch and then caught a black cab to the Palace. It still seemed weird getting into a taxi and saying Buckingham Palace please. It never startled the cabbies until I told them, the visitor’s entrance. They took many tourists there, but few who would visit.

The guards at security were beginning to recognize me. They still required identification and checked me for weapons (after asking if I had anything to leave for safekeeping.) Still they were pleasant and the checks perfunctory. I wonder what would happen if I brought my US Marshal ID and weapon. Some thoughts should remain thoughts.

Mr. Norman was waiting with a Mr. Merton. He apparently knew everything there was to know about Oxford.

There were several items of importance. First I was totally out of the normal registration scheme. That would not present a problem as I had a sponsor and exception would be made. That would be Her Majesty of course.

Next they would prefer it if I sat for the SAT examination as soon as possible. My strong Levels would get me in, but a high SAT score would be icing on the cake. I could take it in the UK or US. I told them I was returning to California tomorrow so it would be best if I took it at home.

I was to enroll under an Alias! How cool was that. It would only give me a low level of security and it would only give some protection from outside sources such as Paparazzi. Any serious groups would be able to find me. Inside the University I could use my real name.

As far as the college itself Mr. Merton recommended Trinity. It was large enough with 400 undergraduates and another 400 graduates I could remain in the background if I desired.

It was too late in the year to obtain a room at the college so I would have to find a flat outside of the school. This shouldn’t be a problem other than the expense. I assured him that I could afford it.

As far as degrees went after a long discussion on courses available I choose Engineering Sciences. This would give me a good foundation across the entire field. Mr. Merton was concerned if I had shown any inclination towards Engineering. I assured him that I did and as a matter of fact held several patents.

This led to a discussion on what I held.

He then educated me about what would happen if I performed any work on my ideas at Oxford. They would own a majority in my work!

Well they may think that but I knew some good lawyers. I would have to sign agreements with Oxford but would be certain to exclude any patentable ideas developed by Jackson Enterprises. Of course any ideas I had would be developed through Jackson Enterprises.

I was assured this shouldn’t be a problem as very few undergraduates ever had an idea worth any money. It was aimed at graduate and doctoral candidates who were doing serious work. I didn’t quite know how to take that.

Mr. Merton would obtain the paperwork for me to apply to Trinity. He would also talk to the Master of the College to pave the way for the various irregularities in my admission. It appeared without the support of the Crown this would never happen.

I brought up that I was committed to play in the US Open Golf tournament in June and that I would need several travel days. Mr. Merton didn’t think that would be a problem but was glad that I had brought it up now. It was best to have these details sorted upfront.

This meeting took several hours so I was glad to leave and stretch my legs. When I got back to the hotel I checked on how my new suite redecoration was going. It would be available by the time I got back in two weeks.

I made an early night of it as I had to be up at 4:00 am to catch my flight.

At least I was able to get coffee in the morning. That is the nice thing about a hotel. The hotel also had a limo take me to the airport. It was easy to check in with no bags to worry about. A simple hold all did the job.

The flight boarded on time and the takeoff smooth. I would be home in time for dinner. Well the takeoff was smooth and so was most of the flight. The part that wasn’t smooth is called CAT, clear air turbulence. We hit it somewhere over the Atlantic. One moment we were cruising along nicely, the next we dropped several hundred feet.

The drop wasn’t bad enough to hurt anyone but it did make a mess of the planes interior. It was in the middle of a meal and everyone’s food and drink stayed where they were while the plane dropped. This put the juice from a glass of grape juice I was drinking up in the air. It must have studied Newton when it was in a bunch on the vine, because it knew what goes up, comes down. Came down it did all over my tie and white shirt. Luckily the suit jacket and pants were spared.

The flight went fast after that as everyone was involved in cleaning up the mess or their messy selves.

I took off my shirt and tie. The only replacement I had was a white tee-shirt which went with my suit coat, or at least it didn’t clash too much. Once the mess was cleaned up and everyone settled back in I was approached by another first class passenger.

She was a fashion photographer. She thought my impromptu outfit looked pretty good. It was a juxtaposition of formal and informal that would show the wearer to have self confidence in their position in life and not held back by artificial boundaries. Her words not mine.

I went along with it figuring the photos would never see the light of day. She was a true professional and had a set of releases for me to sign. She was very much aware who I was and felt that this could influence fashion of the affluent young. Would this make me a member of the Sloane set?

I was proved wrong later when I was sent a copy of ‘Teen Fashion’ which predicted that this would be the ‘In Look’ next year. Fortunately that prediction didn’t come true.

I was so glad when I stepped off the plane at LAX. People had been staring at my clothes through every airport and plane change. They must have thought I was the dork of all dorks. If any of the airports had shops where I could have bought a new shirt I would have.

Having complained about all of that I must say wearing a tee-shirt was more comfortable than a shirt with a boiled egg collar and tie.

A guard from Jackson house was waiting for me with one of our limos. I was glad to see someone I recognized. I was getting more conscious about my security all the time. Maybe I’m paranoid but there are people out to get me. They won’t leave me alone, so I take care of them. They started it. Gee I sound like I’m five again.

Anyway it was good to be home. The guard asked me about my new fashion look. I told him it would be all the rage in six months or the twelfth of never, whichever took the longest. Hmm, twelfth of never, would that work in a song?

The whole family was waiting for me. Well they were already for dinner and waiting on me to eat. I still got hugs from all. Mum told me I could sit down for dinner even though I wasn’t dressed properly. I tried to tell her it was the latest fashion in London but she didn’t buy it.

I broke down and told them about the plane dropping down and spilling everyone’s meal and my grape juice. The kids all thought that was funny. Mary told me I would have to wear a bib when I flew from now on. She also gave me some grief about allowing someone else beat her to a story. Brat, now I know I’m home, it feels great.

During the meal we kept the conversation light, mostly about my new suite at the Plaza on the Strand and all the tests I had to take. The kids thought that was horrible.

After dinner my parents and I withdrew to the Library for coffee and a serious discussion about my trip. I had called about the IRA gunman and Mum had talked to the MI6 people so they were up to speed on that.

I told them about Oxford and Trinity College. Again Mum and Elizabeth had discussed that so she knew what was going on. Her only thought was since I had to get a room in Oxford why not buy a place. That way it would be nicer than those ratty old rentals she remembered. I asked how she remembered those but she deflected the conversation. Dad didn’t seem happy about the subject so I guess I would leave it alone if I knew what was good for me. Some cans of worms like your parents dating life you don’t open.

I told her I didn’t know the area or would feel that comfortable buying a house. Dad thought that was funny after I spent a small fortune on a hotel penthouse suite that I probably would only use a dozen days a year.

I thought it would be double that but again some arguments are to be avoided. Mum told me not to worry she wanted to go to England and visit her family again and she would pick me a place. I told her to remember I only made a million and a half a year so please price shop. She gave me and funny look and told me she would buy something appropriate.

I updated them on the need for me to take the SAT tests while I was here. Plus the real reason I was home right now was for the telethon this Sunday evening.

From their side I had to return a call from Mr. James the Director of ‘Over the Ohio’, I was surprised that the original name stuck, they usually were changed half a dozen times. They probably had a retake needed.

Also I had to have a business meeting and update while I was in country.

I had a question for them that had been bothering me for a while about Mrs. Hernandez.

“I thought Mrs. Hernandez’s husband was in prison in Cuba, but she now seems to be dating.”

“Oh you weren’t here the day she got the news and we forgot to tell you. Her husband had died several years ago and the news never got out. He was probably executed by Castro. That happened about eight months ago. She was upset about his death of course but it didn’t come as a surprise and she had not seen him for over five years. She asked her priest how long she should morn. He told her under the circumstances six months would be appropriate.”

That was a preview of The Richard Jackson Saga Book 8: Oxford University. To read the rest purchase the book.

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