Doomed Dynasty Pt. 08

"But that building is currently fully tenanted," Irene pointed out.

"I know, but I will shift them elsewhere. I own other buildings and can offer sweeteners."

"Option two, the clubs shifts temporarily to the old cheese factory and then to its new clubrooms at the new resort to be built next to the 9-hole golf course at Southern Beach."

"But Reece, that resort is not going ahead, I know for a fact. The developer is Tony Wolf, my brother-in-law," Standish squeaked. " He has failed to raise sufficient funding."

"Oh really? Then you better tell him to come and talk to me. There are people out there on the land with big bucks piled high in the banks in this town. Those farmers would prefer to invest in land development, because that's what they believe in. How much does he want, five million, ten?"

Standish, now clearly perspiring, flicked his eyes at the telephone beside him and then looked gratefully at Reece, "I'll tell him, you bet I'll tell him."

"Finally, option three, the club sells its property and relocates elsewhere under its own volition."

Looking at Phil, Reece said, "Before you call a full board meeting and make any recommendations to the membership, we need to present a formal proposal."

Opening his briefcase and pulling folders, Phil said: "It's all here Ian. Ten copies of the offer in full together with details of the relocation options plus floor plans of the old cheese factory in its present configuration and sketches we have had done by Arthur, Young and Jackson, architects in Wellington showing a number of conceptual layouts of club facilities in the upgraded cheese factory, which will be renamed. Then there are estimates done by Reece's accountant indicating the cost of relocation and transfer costs and indications in chart form of the annual rental for the space you take in multiples of 100 square metres. Finally there are similar conceptual sketches of club facilities at the more upmarket resort and it is pointed out that the estimated rentals for space are purely guesstimates at this stage because ideas remain fluid."

The president was itching to get his hands on those documents. It was exciting and would bring credit to him if moving to upgraded premises occurred during his presidency.

"And gentlemen," said Ian, addressing Phil and Reece, "the first priority is the matter of agreeing on price in respect of this site."

"I am not offering to negotiate," Reece said. "I'm presenting the club with a generously pitched price for its land and building. Check it out with your own advisers. I also have offered very fair rates for my contractors converting the old cheese factory to the club's specifications. Surely you will concede that once that building is opened up and strengthened as shown in the plans for work that is the landlord's financial responsibility, you will be in a premier riverside property. The club has 60 days from today to present me with documents for signing acceptance."

The vice-president whispered something to the president.

"That's a bit tough Reece, virtually an ultimatum."

"It's the way I do business Ian, which is almost always on a one-to-on basis anyway. Dealing with committees, boards and members with their divergent views and the raising of irrelevant issues would be such a waste of time for me. However, I am only a phone call away if my comments are required, or phone Phil if I'm not available."

Reece motioned Phil to his feet. "You have been kind enough to hear us out. We would like to shout you a few drinks downstairs in appreciation."

"Oh no, I won't hear of it," said Ian, striding over to unlock a large cabinet. "Stay here and get pissed with us. We'd like to hear your views, as members, on which is the preferred option for the club. You two obviously have done a lot of homework."

Two nights later, at almost midnight, Reece was woken by two thumps on the study door.

"Knock, knock," called Cilla loudly. "Please come to my bed."

So loudly did she call that Courtney, who was trying to read herself to sleep, heard the words clearly through her closed door. A happy look spread across her face.

CHAPTER 18

Walking along Riverside Street just before 3:30, Reece saw banker Archie Hampton hurrying out of the driveway alongside the Riverside Café looking very pleased with himself.

He called out, "Good lunch Archie?"

Archie looked surprised, but answered, "Er ... yes. Very nice thanks. Oh just the man I wanted to see. Can you pop in to my office for a minute?"

They walked back to the back and Reece looked, as he always did, at his mother's painting, her first substantial commission, at least it was in those days. But she still said her favourite painting of all was the one he'd been left by his grandmother, given to her by a dear wee boy who paid Courtney a couple of bucks from his moneybox to paint it.

"Listen Archie, that painting by Courtney. She's sitting at home virtually twiddling her thumbs. Why don't you get your head office to commission her to paint a couple of dozen scenic paintings clearly of a New Zealand theme and have them circulated around your branches on, say, a three-month rotation? It's trendy for banks to be associated with the arts."

Archie was all ears. The bank's new managing director from California was currently running a competition open to all staff with a prize of large screen television set for the best ideas to help the bank to establish that there was a difference between it and its competitors.

"Not bad, not a bad idea at all, Reece. But we have 128 branches nationally."

"How many principal main centre branches, or whatever you call them?"

"Twenty-one."

"Well then, get Courtney to submit twenty-one mini sketches to you and then send them to HQ with a proposal. These days she gets four grand for paintings smaller than this one, said Reece, exaggerating a little. "Too much for your bank?"

"Not if the MD likes the idea. But what should I call the scheme?"

"Heartland Art," responded Reece without thinking."

Archie glowed as if a neon light had been switched on.

In his office, Archie handed Reece a list of three names of people capable in carrying out property management duties.

Archie looked at him, thinking that Reece was quite a guy. Whenever Reece was around he seemed to stimulate him. He had the qualifications to be a director . . . that's it! The bank was currently looking for a replacement director who had to come from the South Island to keep the ratios correct. Three nominees had already rejected approaches, citing they were already over-committed. He would phone the MD as soon as Reece cleared off.

"Rene Tompkins, good old Rene," said Reece, leaning over the desk to throw the Rene nomination into Archie's rubbish tin.

"She has the experience."

"Yes, you list the real estate offices she's worked in. Do you know why she's left so many of them?"

"To pass on to acquire wider experience, I suppose."

"Because she's a selfish, brawling bitch. I knew her when I lived in Christchurch. She pinches clients off other property managers in her office and on drinks on Friday nights often ends up punching the crap out of someone, male or female."

"Oh dear, I'm sorry about that."

"Understood. You bankers don't quite live in the real world. Oh no, Ivan Kindley-McCade, known for his expertise in fingering the till, anyone's till, although he's never been prosecuted. Also he's queer."

"Oh dear."

"Exactly, why don't you trying saying that to him. He wears two gold rings, a big fat gold watch and braces to match his tie. To need any more proof than that you'd need to catch him at it."

"But my wife thinks he's gorgeous."

"They tend to do that, instinctively knowing that handsome queers are something they can't have."

"You're putting me on, aren't you?"

"Archie? Don't be so disgusting.

"I don't get that, I ... Oh! I get it.

The two laughed like old mates and undeniably a friendship was developing between them. Archie was old enough to be Reece's father.

Reece read details of the third nominee.

"And?" inquired Archie, pushing his rubbish tin a bit closer to Reece.

"Dunno. First impressions are he has the right qualifications but could be flaky.

"My sentiments exactly."

"Can you arrange him to me you and me somewhere, say the Riverside Café.

"Er ... couldn't we go somewhere else?"

"No, I would prefer the Riverside, everyone tells me their coffee is the best in town. I'm free all week.

A tall, gentle-faced man of sixty-one with unruly black and greying hair sat with Archie and Reece in the café.

"These coffees and muffins are on the house, gentlemen," announced Vikki. "Compliments to first-timers are a tradition around here."

"A good business tradition Vikki," and she smiled at Reece for saying that, thinking he was just like his dad was, business matters never far from his mind.

"Very nice coffee."

"How nice of you to say that Mr Hampton."

Archie watched her walk away, hips swaying. He didn't need to look at his watch. They had come in at 10 am, so in four and a half hours it would be waterbed wonders!

Harry Mason, a qualified accountant, had sold commercial real estate for five years and had been manager of the property management division of an Auckland firm for eight years before he was made redundant following a merger with a larger company.

At the same time his wife died and he was found to be suffering from stress. His doctor advised him to seek a quieter life. So he moved to Wellington where he found employment doing the accounts for a car repair firm.

One afternoon the police raided the premises and Harry spend five hours in the police lockup before he was released on bail. The police had broken a stolen car ring and when one of the principal offenders confessed involvement, the case against Harry was dropped. Three of the charged offenders had individually exonerated Harry from involvement or indeed having any knowledge of wrongdoing.

Harry's stress returned so he crossed the strait seeking a quieter life and Miranda seemed just the right place for that.

"So here I am," he said to Reece. "With plenty of money but no work, which had made me very bored.

As Reece outlined the job specifications, Harry's eyes lit up, and Reece noticed that.

"It's a job exactly made for me. I have four of the skills required, sales experience, interpersonal skills, property management experience and depth of knowledge on how the property industry ticks."

"So I have observed," commented Reece dryly. "But what if you do come under pressure and begin to buckle?"

'Well then, Mr Curtis ..."

"Reece."

"Well then, Reece, if you think that's likely then you won't engage me. Problem solved for you."

"You guys get yourselves another cup of coffee, here's the money," said Reece. "I just need a few moments to think." He walked out and around the building on to the wharf.

"A nice young chap is Reece."

"Yes," replied Archie. But there's a toughness to him. Reece was a quite successful international road cyclist in his younger days. He's got the best business head of anyone around here, and that would include me."

Returning to find them sipping coffee Reece said to Harry, "Where do you live, Harry?"

"I've leased a house in Murray St."

"Hmmm. That's within easy walking distance of my home. I do all my paperwork from home. It's a converted bedroom so there's plenty of room."

Reece tore a page out of his pocket diary and wrote something down. He folded it and slid it over to Harry. "I'm offering you that amount weekly to do all of my accounts and property management including finding new tenants when we lose any. That enough?"

Archie craned his neck but couldn't see what was written on the slip.

"Very generous indeed Reece. I accept."

"It's generous Harry because I pay for loyalty and performance to the best of your ability. I am also confident that I will be around to take any weight off you if you feel you are becoming overloaded. I'm becoming busier doing more and bigger things, so soon we may have to shift into town with a receptionist, odd-job person and a personal assistant for me. I'll know next week after a meeting at one of the clubs in which I am a member. Start Monday okay? Here's the address. Mrs Curtis my mother will probably answer the door."

After shaking hands Reece went to turn to walk off, but turned to face Harry.

"Harry how was it that Archie recommended you?"

"Because he knows me Reece. My wife is his sister."

With a passive expression Reece looked directly at Archie. "We're becoming friends, quite good friends in fact. But don't ever do that to me again Archie. Full disclosure. Understand?"

Archie nodded vigorously and the two watched Reece walk off.

"Tough deep down, with tons of integrity I would think, don't you Archie?"

Archie said thoughtfully, "I guess so."

Courtney was as angry as she ever became. "You're leaving me in the house with a strange man in your office. Reece, how could you!"

"Relax mother," Reece soothed. "I'll bet my life on it he's not a sex maniac, if that's what you're on about, or a stealer of collector's pieces of fine bone china, which is probably what is the real worry. He'd a nice chap."

"Oh, you can be quite irritating at times Reece. You are so supremely confident about your decisions. People make mistakes, you know."

"I know, moth...mum. Shall I go and load the rifle for you to keep beside your?"

Courtney didn't reply. She stormed out of the room.

"Oh, dear!" commented Reece loudly.

Courtney heard him. For the first time in her life she came close to giving the fingers to someone.

Patricia arrived home next day absolutely exhausted and that night because even worse. Courtney called and ambulance and had Dr Mackenzie admit Patricia to hospital.

"It's not good Courtney," said the elderly doctor.

On Monday morning at 9 am Courtney answered the knock on the door.

"Mr Mason I presume," Courtney said stiffly. Please come in."

"Correct, and good morning. The air here is so refreshing. Shall I remove my shoes?"

"No, of course not. We're farming people," she replied, then wondering the relevance of that reply to the question.

She showed him to the office, and pointed to a new desk. "I apologise that Reece is not here. He was called out to the farm as they have started harvesting the first grapes."

"You have a farm and a vineyard?"

"We have a number of things Mr Mason. "No doubt you will learn of them in due course."

"If you wish to go and watch I will be okay here left alone and I promise I won't steal anything. You appear to have a lovely home."

At 10.30 Courtney returned to the office, which was much tidier than it had been when she left it 90 minutes earlier.

"Please come through and I will make you coffee."

Harry followed her into the dining room. He immediately noticed the display of bone china.

"This is a magnificent collection Mrs Curtis. You must be very proud of it."

Courtney let that one go, but decided to stake out her territory. "The rarest pieces are alarmed."

"Oh I'm pleased to hear that. One cannot be too careful about security these days."

Hmmm, thought Courtney. "Do you like your coffee strong or weak, white or black?"

"To tell you the truth, Mrs Curtis, I prefer tea in the mornings, coffee after lunch."

"Very well," replied Courtney. "I've already made a pot. Please bring this cup over to the coffee table. She also preferred tea in the morning, coffee in the afternoon.

She poured the tea and watched Harry carefully carry his cup away. He'd reached the door when she relented, and said, "You may sit with me here if you wish."

Harry didn't almost drop the cup, but he was surprised. He'd come to the conclusion that Mrs Curtis did not think much of him.

Half an hour later she went into Harry. I'd like to watch the harvesting so I'll go and be back by about 2:00 and will bring lunch back with me."

That night Reece went into the office and noticed it was even more tidier and obviously Harry had been working on drawing up lists of suppliers, contractors, subcontractors, expanding on the names that he'd copied from the list on Reece's desk which he had expanded on the few names his father had assembled.

Courtney walked in. Her moodiness from the previous evening had gone.

Reece grinned, "And how did we and Harry get on today?"

"We and Mr Mason got on fine. I know what you're after, so I'll say it: no I do not fear that he may be a sex maniac or a bone china thief."

Oh excellent. Some say I have a sharp business mind, which I though I inherited from dad. I think perhaps I got street-wise attributes from him but your reply to me suggests a rapier wit. I think I've inherit my sharp business mind from you."

Courtney walked over and kissed him on the cheek, leaving the room without a word.

Over dinner Courtney was drawn out a bit more about Mr Mason.

"He really surprised me, Matt. He's very cultured. He correctly identified my new roses outside the study as Auckland Metro and when I showed him the Goldie he identified it without being close enough to read the inscription. He also prefers tea in the mornings."

"Tea in the mornings? Is that a fundamental of one's cultural development?"

"Oh dear boy, you really do have a little bit of Matt in you.

Next afternoon Patricia was transferred to the retirement home and the next day Courtney met the chairman of the trust board.

"Mrs Shanks, I understand you have plans for a full nursing hospice wing here. Why hasn't it been built?'

"Simply lack of funding Mrs Curtis. There could be no other reason. We are way short of the total we need."

"What is the shortfall?"

"It's terrifyingly large, $1.8 million but of course the project estimate includes the complete fit-out."

Courtney's parents had both died over the past three years and she had inherited everything. So how much have you raised?"

"Only $873,600."

"In that case I required you to call a meeting of your board to set about raising, um, $426,400. When that money is in your hospice trust funding account I will deposit $1.5 million in the fund to allow the hospice wing to proceed. Dr Mackenzie believes my mother-in-law Mrs Curtis will be well enough to return home with two weeks but warns before too long she will require constant care. Therefore I want that hospice wing constructed expeditiously."

"Ohmigod Mrs Curtis, yes, yes."

"I'll have my lawyer send you a declaration that I have the funds available and they are payable to your trust as soon as he is advised that the shortfall is $1.5 million or less. If it's less the $1.5 million will remain gifted in full."

"Ohmigod Mrs Curtis, thank you again. Come I'll take you through to Patricia now. I saw her this morning. We have known one another for more than forty years.

Three weeks later Courtney eased back on the throttle.

"Harry, Harry, come and look!"

Mr Mason left his desk and as Harry hurried through the open dining room French doors, elated that Courtney had lowered the boon.

"Look Harry the black's had a foal over-night. Isn't it tiny." Mare and foal were in a small enclosure under an oak tree in the small paddock between the Curtis and Whitehead's houses.

"Do you ride Harry?"

"Used to but that was many years ago."

"I'll take you to the farm one day soon. We can ride up to where the new vines are being planted. You will be able to ride again, it's just like riding a bicycle, you never forget. I used to ride like the wind but only walk the horse these days."

"That would be nice Mrs Curtis. I would really look forward to the experience. By the way, do you paint?"

"Yes, why do you ask?"

"That painting in Reece's office of the woman and the young female rider who I wonder if she was a sister of Matt's. But looking at the painting I though it looked like something you might have done, but there's no signature on it or inscription on the frame. It just seems to reflect the style I can image you would have if I may so. It captures your spirit. I apologise for being too personal.