‘Oh my god, they’re coming to visit.’
‘That’s nice.’
‘Nice! You’ve met him.’
‘Well, it’s a situation that’s doable, at least for a short time. When are they are coming?’
‘Not for a while.’ Charlie replied, her head in her mother’s handwritten missive. ‘And father’s finally retiring. I don’t believe it. Oh no! He wants to “take the opportunity to look at properties in the west country.” Well, they can stay off the Riviera for a start. And she wants me to recommend a hotel. I suppose the Grand is, well, what they’d consider grand.’
‘Oh, for goodness’ sake, you are slow sometimes, send them where you’ve got a man on the inside, the Manor House.’
‘Right, I wasn’t thinking.’
‘Junior Jack is just the fellow to keep your father in order, looming in the lounge. And another thing, you’ve got friends, if your parents are moving it’s a chance to find out all the legal ins and outs of your family, steer them towards Barney Benson, better still go in on the ground floor and hit them with Thayer, it’s what that building is for.’
‘County Estates is outside father’s price range I should think.’
‘But Thayer will offer to find them their ideal property, if he knows what’s good for him.’
For once it was me inviting Daphne for lunch at the club. After the usual pleasantries I tried to get swiftly to business. ‘We need to have a serious talk Daph, ghosts from the past are, unsettling me, shall we say.’
‘Gosh! Not more accusations about me being an agent for my father I hope?’
‘No. But let me apologise in advance, I do have to ask you about your father’s world. If you’re able to answer, please do so, if not, try to distinguish between don’t know, and not at liberty to say.’
‘Hell, this had better be important. I’ve had enough of trips down memory lane. So, what’s this all about?’
‘I don’t know, that’s the point. Who or what is, or was, Casper Wieck?’
‘A hanger-on of Daddy’s.’
‘They worked together?’
‘Sure, and used to see each other in retirement.’
‘Just, how senior was your father in the end?’
‘Deputy Chief.’
‘And Wieck?’
‘Head of Personnel.’
‘Sounds a bit euphemistic!’
‘No, but yes. I mean government communications is a big employer, the seventies, a time of expansion for them. Lots of positive vetting. But yes, sort of internal security as well. And...’
‘Yes?’
‘Look Tony, there were all sorts of formal channels for distributing the product, with Whitehall committees attached. But once in a while, there had to be informal, face to face contact with odd individuals from the other agencies. Wieck would handle that. When I was a kid, if Daddy had to be contacted out of hours, it would be Wieck who came to the cottage. That was the only time, you know, hand on the shoulder afterwards; “You know Daddy’s work is a bit secret, no need to mention the visit”. My point is, Wieck was the only one who really knew anything about the world of the spooks.’
‘And what was Murchison’s role?’
‘Ken? He was entertainment. Same generation, only stayed a few years, the butt of jokes often, I mean he was the last of his kind, had to oversee, climbing telegraph poles, messing with mechanical exchanges, you know, your actual adding extra kit to wires, international cables, museum stuff. And radio of course. Amuses Barmy to this day. What’s this really all about Tony?’
‘He was genuinely attached to my aunt Elisabeth, not just the gardener, left an old Will, leaving her everything. Why was Wieck at the funeral?’
‘Out of respect?’
‘Tidying up loose ends more like, only he didn’t succeed. How’s Barmy?’
‘Fine, I think. In Germany, with a solicitor, one of your lot. Wills again, one of his many relatives dropped of the twig. Barmy thinks he can snatch another chuck of the family fortune for the foundation. Mel keeps saying all that nonsense will stop with her, rather admire her for it.’
Over the years Charlie and I have tried to limit our visits to Head Office, in our great cathedral city. Killing as many birds with one stone as possible. And we’ve got into the habit of entering by the ground floor and working our way up. The first surprise of the day was to find Barmy lounging with Thayer at the back of the shop; ‘I was told you were in Germany.’
‘That was yesterday. We were talking about you. Ways of turning cash into bricks and mortar.’
‘I was saying, how profit, in rural enterprises rarely tells you about the real value of assets like land and buildings.’ Thayer explained.
‘Quite right.’
‘Brinkley sent word he wants to see you two. And since you’ll be going that way you might care to deliver these papers regarding your old apartment. Tell him he has forty-eight hours to fix it, whatever the fix is, before those details go in the window, at market price!’
‘Number forty-two is sold?’
‘Finally.’
‘Right. Now, we never arrive without a purpose, over to you Charlie?’
‘My father is retiring, looking for a property in the west country, we were wondering if you could, I can’t believe I’m talking like this, help manage the situation, facilitate an outcome, conducive to all parties...’
‘Being as how, you’ve just told the whole world you’ve never got on!’ Thayer interrupted.
‘Did I? Oh god.’
‘Fear not, point them in my direction, I’ll endeavour to keep all parties satisfied. Now, you don’t want to keep Lawrence waiting, besides Mr Gruber here, by all accounts is an even more important client than you Tony.’
‘That man is getting ideas above his station.’ I said as we ascended the back stairway to the first floor.
Upon entered, Brinkley’s voice boomed; ‘In here you two.’ I was beginning to regret the comprehensiveness of security in the building, but then I only had myself and Fin Heptonstall to blame!
Just as Brinkley opened his mouth to speak, I shoved Thayer’s papers in his face, then took up my usual position of admiring the second-best view.
‘Yes. Yes.’ He mumbled whilst perusing the papers; ‘Mackintosh has been much on my mind of late. In more ways than one. Are we committed to this?’
‘Gentleman’s agreement, handshake and everything, an offer to treat, and an acceptance.’
‘Leave the law to Bernard, Tony. You have noted the difference in these figures?’
‘Yes.’
‘Thayer knows the market.’
‘Yes.’
‘Well, I...’
‘Cat has already paid in kind, future prospects with Jack’s garage look very rosy.’
‘Jack! This office has no truck with him.’
‘Then I’m your cut-out, I keep you squeaky clean!’
‘Yes, well that’s as maybe. And now, Mackintosh wants to institute a park run, of all things, Charlotte?’
‘It’s an idea, it would have to be a cross-country event, not enough paths and they’d have to stay off the golf course, he suggested a paper chase, keep it traditional.’
‘Insurance will never wear it. Plus, with your MP’s visit, this leaves the whole park organisation severely exposed.’
‘Larry, you’re not making any sense.’
‘It doesn’t matter how well you’ve sweet-talked her; MPs have to account for their every action these days, two forms, it’s either expenses or the register of freebies!’
‘So?’
‘Public documents, it won’t be her, just some, beady-eyed left-wing journalist, one article, one call to the tax office, that’s all it takes. We need to formalise certain internal arrangements at the Park.’
‘How?’
‘Three departments, say Spa and Sports, Conference Facilities, House and Hospitality. Clear accounting, if Macintosh is organising events for Spa and Sports, that’s consulting or volunteering, not the club which is just renting from House and Hospitality. Wooley rents from Conference Facilities, however much he wines and dines guests in the club, follow?’ He said looking in Charlie’s direction.
‘The whole point of the Park is it’s informality.’ She replied.
‘It’s appearances and reality again Charlie, paperwork makes stuff, official.’ I interceded.
‘Oh, right.’
‘Agreed?’ Asserted Brinkley.
‘Agreed. Where’s Bernard?’
‘Incommunicado.’
‘I beg your pardon?’
‘At home, in Spain, the doctors have ordered complete rest. No online, no nothing.’
‘What’s happened?’ As I was asking, Charlie spied something behind Brinkley’s chair and rose to investigate.
‘Fell over in the outage, hairline fracture, whole foot and ankle strapped up, stick and everything...’
‘In the outhouse?’
‘In the power cut!’
‘Another one!’ Charlie exclaimed, holding up a new bottle; ‘Irish whisky not enough? Bespoke again I suppose.’ Turning it to the light she continued; ‘Seriously? “Brinkley’s Rum”, oh come on!’
‘Care for a glass?’
‘No thanks.’
‘Slip-up stairs and you’ll find Bernard now offers, raspberry and lemon liqueurs.’
‘Charlie, we’re leaving. Clearly, we’re paying these people too much!’