Circles Of Fear

by Brian Cain

CHAPTER SEVEN

  It was mid Monday morning and Jason’s father was making his way through the city traffic to his Adelaide head office when the car phone rang. “Hello, Bob Brinkly speaking,” he said abruptly.

  “Bob, it’s David your solicitor. The information you required on that record company you are buying, well I’ve managed to get it and if you’d like to pop in I’ll tell you all about it,” a distinguished voice announced.

  “I asked for that a month ago, what’s been the hold up?”

  “I don’t want to say anything on the phone Bob, but it’s been quite difficult.”

  “I’m coming straight over and I don’t want to be held up, I’m five minutes away.”

  “No problems Bob, I’ll be ready.”

  Jason’s father diverted his gleaming Rolls towards his solicitor’s office and as he approached, the automatic car park door from the busy main street opened to receive him. He parked and entered the reception area.

  “Please go straight in Mr Brinkley. David is expecting you,” said the receptionist. Jason’s father walked past, saying nothing and entered the office. The receptionist mumbled quietly while typing, “Arsehole.”

  Bob Brinkly sat opposite David at his desk as they shook hands. David slid a handful of papers across the desk. “Here’s all the history, structure and profitability we’ve been able to get on Ramrod Records and it checks out with the information and deal that your financial advisers arranged with them. The sole owner now lives in Miami, seems the taxation department are on his back and that’s why we’ve been unable to see him in person, so the deal has been finalised with his attorney in Sydney, a reputable man whom we’ve known for some years. Everything is okay and all you have to do is sign the necessary paperwork. The money transfer is to a Swiss bank. This is quite a profitable company and a good acquisition at two million dollars. That’s about the value of the real estate involved so you can’t lose.”

  Bob began to sign several documents that David handed him. “Purely a coincidence this is a good deal, I needed a recording and distribution enterprise for personal reasons. The point that it turned out like this is of course an advantage and I’ll make arrangements for the cash transfer as soon as the deal is sealed. Do it straight away. I want to be in their Sydney office this afternoon and in control.”

  Bob called his financial advisers and the bank, making sure that David would call him as soon as the deal was finalised. He thanked David and left for his office.

  An hour passed and he received a call from David saying that everything had gone smoothly and Ramrod Records was his. He also mentioned that the management of the company knew nothing about the sale. He booked a flight to Sydney that afternoon and rang his Sydney office informing them of his arrival and asking Watson, his general manager who happened to be in Sydney, to meet him at the airport.

  Watson drove steadily through the thick Sydney traffic towards the office of Ramrod Records. “Why a recording company Bob?” asked Watson.

  Jason’s father crossed his arms. “I need my son and this is going to get him for me. If I can get his band’s music recorded and get him some money coming in, he won’t have to play as much, if at all and I can spend some time with him. You know, to show him what to do with the company when I’m gone.”

  Watson looked concerned, “You sure that will work Bob? We don’t know a thing about this music game.”

  “I could never get inside the circle in which he lives; now I’m part way there and the people who run this Ramrod show know all about it and they’re going to do the rest. You’re going to keep an eye on them and keep it quiet. Only top management know of this and I definitely don’t want Jason finding out.”

  Watson pulled up in front of an office block bearing the large insignia Ramrod Recording Studios.

  “This is it Bob,” said Watson as he switched off the car. "This is a no parking zone."

  "Excellent, we won't get hemmed in." They walked towards the door, “Just listen carefully to what goes on in here, I’ve put a lot of work into this and I want things happening quickly,” said Bob. They entered the lush office and smiled at the receptionist, “We would like to see the manager. Tell him it’s the new company owner wanting to see him.”

  The receptionist looked at him in dismay, “Excuse me sir but the company owner is overseas and the manager is busy.”

  Watson intervened, “Please dear, do us all a favour and make a few inquiries before Mr Brinkly gets upset. He’s a very busy man.”

  The receptionist disappeared for a few minutes and then returned.

  “Mr Steven Brooks will see you straight away sir. He’s Ramrod Australia’s executive director. Down the hall. Second on the right.”

  On entering the office they found it was empty, so they sat and waited. Minutes passed and in walked a young, well groomed, long haired man who sat down behind the desk and put his feet up in the out basket, the out basket was empty.

  “We get a lot of people in here, pop, but you’re the first one who reckoned he owned the place, so I’m real keen to hear your story before you leave like the rest of them.”

  Jason’s father stood and closed the door. “I know this is short notice and I believe you don’t know as yet, so why don’t you ring the company’s legal representative and tell him Mr Brinkly just arrived and see what he has to say.”

  “Why not? I could do with a laugh this morning.” Steven picked up the phone and rang their legal service, gently putting his feet on the carpet and going pale as he was fed more information. “The lot, two million dollars! Thanks very much for telling us.” Steven slowly put down the phone. “Can I see some identification?”

  Bob Brinkly exploded, “Do you always do business like this!”

  “No sir.”

  Bob continued to erupt, “Good, because if I ever even hear that you carried on like this again you will no longer be with us. Meet Mr Watson, your new boss!!”

  Steven nervously shook hands. “How do you do sir?”

  “Everybody calls me Watson.”

  Bob had calmed slightly. “Now listen very carefully. My son has a band, a rhythm and blues band or whatever they call it and you are going to record and release his music and he is going to make a lot of money. That’s the only reason I bought this company. Everything else will go on as usual and nobody but us is going to know that I arranged all this. If everything goes well you will receive a nice raise. If it doesn’t work I’ll make sure you never work in this industry again! Now do you understand what I have said or do you wish to leave now?”

  Steven rubbed his forehead. “Mr Brinkly, a lot of things can go wrong. His music may not sell, radio stations may not want to play it.”

  Bob calmed to a normal mode. “I’ve done some work on this. If it doesn’t sell then buy it in. If the radio stations won’t push it, then bribe them.”

  Steven frowned, “That could cost thousands.”

  Watson joined in, “Spend money on speculation Bob. That’s the first time I’ve ever heard you say such a thing.”

  Bob stood and walked to the window looking out into the busy street. “I’m sure this will give me Jason, so it’s money well spent. I’d be surprised if it cost more than the company’s profit margin anyway. You both must understand that this is hush hush.”

  Steven stood next to Bob. “Sounds like a challenge. I like it, what’s your son’s name and the name of his band?”

  Bob put his hand on Steve’s shoulder wearing a gentle smile taking the edge from the air. “That’s more like it, that’s why I came here, you people know what you’re doing. His name’s Jason and he just dissolved a band called “Asteroid” and formed a new band, but I don’t know its name. You will find them in Adelaide.”

  Steven smiled. “No worries, I’ll get right on to it.”

  Watson handed Steven his card. “Call me if you need anything and I’ll be round regular to see what’s going on.”

  Steven followed them out to reception, shook hands and they
left. He turned to the receptionist, “Get me all you can on a Jason Brinkly who was formerly in a band in Adelaide called “Asteroid”. He’s just formed a new band but we don’t know the name. Do it straight away.”

  Steven had been going about his normal business in his office for about half an hour when his receptionist entered with the information. “Jason Brinkly, very long fair hair and very good looking. One of Australia’s finest R’n’B guitarists and singers. Bachelor of classical music, level headed, doesn’t smoke or drink. Bit wayward with women, but can’t find any booking agents or promoters who say anything bad about him. He’s known as a good business man and has a lot of good original material but is widely disliked by other players due to the opportunities he has turned down during his career. He broke a contract with Stallion Records seven years ago. His new band is called ‘Full on’ and they are playing in Adelaide this weekend.”

  “That’s great, love. Book me a flight to Adelaide for Saturday and some accommodation in the city somewhere. I hope he’s a bit more approachable than his father.”

  “You know his father do you?” asked the receptionist.

  Steven hesitated, “No I don’t. Just had a hot tip about him this morning and I’m keen to chase it up.”

  She returned to her office and Steven rang Watson to inform him of his progress. They agreed to have a couple of days together that week so Watson could be shown the structure of the company. An audit of the company’s operations had been conducted before the sale and Jason’s father wanted it all checked out. Steven expressed concern about Jason’s father’s attitude and intentions, but Watson informed him that he was very rich and used to getting his own way and nothing could be done about it and things would be fine if he did what was asked and said nothing. He then rang the company’s lawyer who had handled the deal. He informed him that Bob Brinkly was worth in excess of fifty million dollars that they knew of in Australia alone, has a world wide manufacturing and distribution business and was a ruthless customer when it came to money. As Steven put down the phone he spoke quietly to himself, “Oh well, if you’re on a bus and you don’t like the driver, it doesn’t really matter as long as the driver knows where he’s going.”