Hampton Manor
K. J. Janssen
Hampton Manor is a multi-genre work about the lives of five townspeople in the quiet New England town of Old Brooking, Connecticut as they contend with the powerful Hampton family. The protagonist, Adam Hampton III, is an amalgamation of characters from fiction and real life. He stirs up the emotions of each of the main characters through a series of ruthless actions until one finally hires an assassin to kill both Adam and his father, and burn Hampton Manor to the ground.
AMAZON REVIEW: 5 STARS
"Another nail-biter from the author of Blood Money. It's one of those thrillers that make you glad you started reading while the night was young because you can't put it down. Page by page Hampton Manor brings you closer to a terrible secret that will give you goosebumps as you dive into the mystery of the Hampton family."
— Jack King, "Author of Suspense" (in from the cold)
HAMPTON MANOR
Thriller by K.J. Janssen
AMAZON REVIEW: 5 STARS
“Another nail-biter from the author of Blood Money. It’s one of those thrillers that make you glad you started reading while the night was young because you can’t put it down. Page by page Hampton Manor brings you closer to a terrible secret that will give you goosebumps as you dive into the mystery of the Hampton family.”
—Jack King, “Author of Suspense”
AMAZON REVIEW: 5 STARS
Great Beach reading May 14, 2012
“K.J. Janssen’s newest mystery (Hampton Manor) leaves you wanting the next book. His characters are so well developed that you want to know more. I hope this the first of a series.”
—M.B. Russell, Reviewer
AMAZON REVIEW: 5 STARS
An amazing read! May 24, 2012
“Hampton Manor by K. J. Janssen is an amazing read. The characters are so believable and the plot development is outstanding. This is an A1 thriller. There is an assassin on the loose in Old Brooking, CT and the author hides the identity until the very end by presenting reasons why any of five townspeople could be the guilty party.
“The cover is really outstanding, too.
“I haven’t read his other book, Blood Money, as yet, but it’s on my list. If it is anything like Hampton Manor I’m in for a real treat.”
—Walt Mannings, Jr., Reviewer
Prologue
“Don’t worry, I’ll make sure I get them both. Call me as soon as the money has been deposited.” The Assassin was accustomed to conversations like this. In his line of work he was known as the best, a man who took great pride in his profession. His legit business, a construction company in East St. Louis, Illinois, was a perfect front for the techno-killer.
“I heard you talking. Who’s the target this time?” an associate asked, as he entered the office.
“Adam Hampton III and his father Adam Hampton II. Both live in Old Brooking, Connecticut. My client was specific that he wants them dead and their Manor destroyed. Apparently Hampton Manor is symbolic of something.”
“They want you to burn down the mansion with the two of them in it? What the hell is that about? Sounds like some kind of a vendetta to me.”
“I don’t have any of the detail and I don’t really want to know. I’ve been waiting for a challenge like this for some time.”
“They didn’t happen to specify what they wanted the victims to be wearing at the time, did they?”
“There is no need for sarcasm,” the Assassin answered. “I do my best work under the pressure of rigid client specifications. We’ve got two weeks and a lot of planning to do, so let’s get to work. First I’m going to need the schematics for the Old Brooking Municipal Water System. I’ll need the location of their pumping stations, reserve tanks and the water main system. See if you can attach construction dates to everything.”
“What do you need all that stuff for?”
The Assassin rolled his eyes. How do some people make it through life with just enough gray matter between their ears as it takes to lace up their shoes? He smiled as he realized that the invention of Velcro strips even made that task less challenging for some. Patiently, he explained, “If our fire is going to accomplish what we’re setting out to do, the odds will improve greatly if attempts by the Old Brooking’s Fire Department to extinguish it are unsuccessful. Especially, if they are out of business entirely.”
“You mean that you’re gonna knock out their Fire Department?”
“Not the Fire Department, stupid, just the water they need to extinguish the fires.”
“Oh! Now I get it.”
The Assassin smiled. He gets it. The Planet can rest easily now. “Get to work and get me those blueprints and maps. Then I’ll show you how it’ll be done.”
* * *
The next morning a pile of paper rested on the Assassin’s desk. He spent four hours poring over the network of water mains, periodically referencing the list of construction dates. A brochure from the Old Brooking Water District boasted about the use of concrete water mains chosen for their ability to withstand corrosion and internal and external pressure, minimizing the likelihood of ever cracking or leaking. On the downside, concrete mains were more difficult to shut down should that ever be necessary. The decision as to whether a water main or the pumping station should be taken out was a difficult one to make. The water main section supplying water to the Hampton mansion was only twelve years old and was constructed with steel reinforcements, making it difficult to create a structural collapse. The pumping station, on the other hand, was “ancient” by any standard. No improvements had been made for over thirty years due to budget restrictions. A spate of recent breakdowns made the Old Brooking Municipal Pumping Station an “accident waiting to happen.”
Finally, the Assassin settled on a two-pronged approach. The last pump between the station and the mansion was “jerry-rigged” to supply water through a seventy-five foot section of twenty foot diameter conduit, which was only ten feet below the ground and not reinforced by steel. Damage to this section, some of which was directly under the electrical control panel, would effectively shut down the station and the town’s water supply for at least several weeks until water could be diverted from nearby towns.
He decided he would take out the electrical grid, starting with one of the transformers. The resulting explosion would set off a chain reaction throughout the grid and cause the pump to implode down into the main. Failure of the electrical grid would automatically cut off the flow of water from the reservoir. Reserves stored in the town’s water towers would drain quickly into the streets. Within an hour Old Brooking would run dry. All that would be needed to complete step one would be twenty five pounds of Nitrex, and given the absolute lack of security at the reservoir it would be the easiest part of the job.
Chapter 1
Adam Hampton III opened his eyes, prepared to meet the challenges of his day. His head throbbed from the overindulgence of the night before. He was in no immediate hurry to get up. At first he had no memory of the previous night’s activities, but, as the cobwebs cleared, a vague memory of having sex with Marcia Bloom emerged. How could that slip my mind after trying so hard to bed her for the last six months? The memory of his activity the prior night began to return. He recalled how beautiful her body was. He vividly retraced each curve in his mind. He had discovered, first hand, that there was much more to Marcia than her signature tight clothing. As the mystery continued to unravel, he remembered being in her apartment, drinking several Rusty Nails. She was wearing only a short silk robe, which, at the time, he considered a most promising sign.
As a sex partner, Adam was short on foreplay, which he believed made him climax too quickly. He preferred to get right to the fornication. He had waited for Marcia to make the first move, w
hich she eventually did by letting her robe fall to the floor. They moved immediately to her bedroom where they made love for the next four hours on her round-shaped bed. He remembered doing it several times, but apart from that, the rest was a blur, including how he drove home and got into his pajamas. To add to his confusion, he saw that his clothes were neatly folded and piled up on one of the lounges.
For the past three years Marcia has been vice-president of Sales for Bretton Trading, one of the Hampton companies. She was appointed to the position by his father. Six months ago at a company party he made a pass at her, which she politely laughed off. On two other occasions he made it very clear that he wanted to go to bed with her and both times she had turned him down, but with less conviction she had earlier.
What happened last night? He wrestled with the question. What could have made her change her mind? There was an obvious gap in his memory. As if to answer his questions, his cell phone rang. He rolled over and picked it up. The name on the screen was Marcia Bloom. He thought for a second and decided against answering it. He had no intention of speaking with her until he had the answers to the questions that were plaguing him; answers that were very slow in coming. He waited until she finished her message. The message was short.
When it ended, he pressed play.“Adam,” she said in a bubbly voice. “Good Morning! I’m sorry I missed you.” She hesitated for a moment and added, “We need to meet to discuss how and when you’re going to announce my promotion. Call me.”
Adam dropped the phone. The memory of the time preceding his sexual encounter with Marcia suddenly flooded into his head. He now recalled asking her, “What do I have to do for you to go to bed with me?” He remembered that she had bluntly answered, “I will sleep with you only if you give me the vacant CEO position at Bretton Trading.”
He also remembered reluctantly agreeing to do so. What have I done?, he thought. She’s expecting me to promote her to CEO. Beads of perspiration appeared on his forehead. In the two years since he took over the helm of Hampton Industries he exerted every effort to avoid signs of impropriety. Self-recriminations flooded through Adam’s thoughts Why couldn’t I keep it in my pants? What the hell is wrong with me? I know better than to screw around at the office. How could I have been so stupid? She’s not ready to be CEO. Damn that scotch!
Thoughts flowed in again Well, It’s just not going to happen. She isn’t qualified. I’ll just deny any memory of such a promise. I’ll find some other way to placate her.
Marcia’s expectations would be taken care of when the opportunity presented itself. Right now he needed to dress for a very important meeting.
Adam began his morning grooming. Unlike his father, he did not avail himself of the personal services of the butler, preferring to choose his own clothing and do his own grooming. A firm believer in the importance of his appearance, he devoted close forty-five minutes to grooming every day. He used a number of products that promised to keep him looking young and virile, including moisturizers, toners, wrinkle removers and a new product that was supposed to give his skin a youthful glow even at age thirty-three. He applied a deodorant and a new French cologne produced by one of his companies, finishing off with a quick scan of his naked body in the mirrored shower doors. He was impressed with what he saw. His brown hair was free of gray hairs. He kept it short most of the time except when he went on vacation. His had an angular face with a roman nose, his eyes were a dull blue. He was the tallest of the Hampton men, at six-two. His weight ten pounds over the range for thirty-plus males. That never bothered Him. He had a comprehensive physical exam once a year and usually got a clean bill of health from the doctor. Adam never read the list of recommended diets and exercise regimens he was given. He gave the former to his cook and tossed away the latter.
Satisfied that he looked his best, he left the bathroom and moved to the walk-in closet to select his suit, shirt, belt, tie, shoes and socks. The color coordinated combinations were previously set up . He simply chose groupings based on his mood that day and sometimes because of the season of the year.
One hour after waking, Adam emerged from his bedroom. He used the time between juice and eggs prepared, to discuss household matters with his butler, Milton.
Today, his father’s health dominated the conversation. Adam Hampton II was confined in the West Wing of Hampton Manor. The news was encouraging and Adam decided that he would come home early later in the week to spend some time with him.
After he finished eating and was satisfied that there were no pressing matters requiring his attention, he went to the garage, looked over the collection of cars, the Lexus, Lucerne, Mustang, Audi and the Infiniti, eventually settling on the latter.
As he drove to his office the only thing he had on his mind was an important meeting he needed to schedule for later that morning. As he pulled out of the driveway he glanced at the picture of the Manor perfectly centered in the rear view mirror.
Hampton Manor was home to three generations of Hamptons since 1935. Built on acres of prime Old Brooking, Connecticut real estate, the Manor which sits on a knoll, is surrounded by manicured gardens, pathed woodlands, an Olympic-sized swimming pool and two tennis courts. County assessors listed the Manor at five and a half million dollars for property tax purposes; real estate agents upwards to eight million. Its high elevation makes the Manor visible from virtually any area of town, something Adam was proud of.
Built by the first Adam Hampton to mirror a fourteenth century English Manor House, it has a main center residence and two wings. It is currently the home of Adam Hampton III, Adam Hampton II, a butler, three maid-servants, two cooks, nine male nurse-guards and two female beagles. Bedrooms in the main residence have king-sized beds, large bureaus and dressers and multiple lounging chairs. The attached bathrooms have marbled sinks, vanities and shower walls. Four of the eight bedrooms have a private terraces with bubbly hot tubs. Opulence is everywhere to be seen.
The West Wing had been walled off since Adam Hampton II returned home from two weeks of mental evaluation. On the main floor, entry from the center house is restricted to a series of locked doors. Windows are barred and alarmed. Electrical power for the Manor is backed up by two emergency generators. Fifteen years have passed since a rogue hurricane knocked out power in Old Brooking. The Manor is only one of four residences in town that glowed brightly each evening during the two week outage. No expense had been spared to convert the area into a mini-spa/clinic. Upstairs, two bedrooms are set aside as sleeping quarters for the nurses who doubled as guards.
No visitors were permitted. Access is limited to Adam III, Milton, the nursing staff and his doctors. A closed circuit system with video tape monitored and records his activities around the clock. Constraints had been necessary on rare occasions when he tried to beat up on himself or when he attacked a staff member. Sedatives are mostly administered late at night when he is observed pacing back and forth in his quarters shouting and frantically waving his arms about. in the air.
Chapter 2
Adam Hampton II took control of Hampton Industries in 1969 at the age of twenty-nine, when his father committed suicide. He operated the business for the next thirty-five years. Adam earned a reputation for being ruthless, cunning and dishonest in his business negotiations. His hard-heartedness spilled over to his personal life. His wife of thirty years divorced him for extreme mental cruelty. In 2004 he attempted a hostile takeover of Preston Industries, a major competitor, but was defeated by a last minute influx of proxies from private investors. For several months, he brooded over the loss until he had the opportunity to purchase several global businesses. Within a year he acquired, through hostile takeovers, a British couturier, Italian shoe designer and a French perfumery. Sales reached the two billion dollar mark as Adam Hampton II became the darling of the fashion world, appearing on the cover of numerous fashion magazines and on radio and TV talk shows. His life took on a whole new meaning, but it was the media frenzy that would eventually lead to his ruin, as Adam be
came so caught up in the glamour that he spent most of his time traveling and entertaining on his new toy, a one hundred and five foot Mangusta motor yacht. He had not been to his office for over nine months, preferring to operate from home or some exotic resort using the phone and fax.
The high life took its toll on Adam. Almost overnight he lost his zest and began to have periods of anxiety bordering on hysteria. Doctors were completely baffled by his rapid mental deterioration, but, after three months of this behavior they unanimously declared him incompetent to conduct his business affairs. His son, Adam Hampton III immediately petitioned the courts and after the hearing, control of his father’s estate and Hampton Industries was turned over to him. His father’s attorney had no choice but to agree with the court and signed off on the decision.
When Adam III took over the estate, he immediately sectioned off the West Wing of Hampton Manor to be his father’s residence and hired round-the-clock medical care for his father, who often didn’t even recognize him. His visits to his father decreased to once a week and even then, it took a significant emotional toll on him.
Chapter 3
How it started:
Adam Hampton attended Brown University on a one year scholarship awarded by the Old Brooking Rotary Club to the student that demonstrated the most promising entrepreneurial potential in his academic work. His father, a postal worker supporting a family of five, could not contribute any financial assistance, so Adam bussed tables in the university cafeteria to cover travel and living expenses. He was popular with his fellow students and was invited to join Alpha Phi Alpha, but while he enjoyed the camaraderie of fraternity life, he nonetheless listened to a different drummer than his brothers. While they spent their time in the endless pursuit of social activities and innumerable touch football games against rival frats, he spent most of his spare time in the library doing research on textile manufacturing and sweater designs. On weekends Adam visited small textile manufacturers in the towns surrounding Providence, looking for excess production time that might be available on their looms. He approached them with his designs and before his first six months at Brown elapsed, Adam had over five hundred cotton and cashmere sweaters being produced according to his design specifications. Initially, Adam mostly sold to fellow students for their own use or for gifts. His business and popularity soared and he soon became the “go-to” man for students needing to earn extra money. Sales were brisk since his prices were half those of the shops in town. He paid a local seamstress to embroider personal names, figures or school letters. After a time, Adam placed ads in local newspapers and hired sales reps at colleges around the country. Sales expanded to several thousand garments a semester. Business couldn’t have been better.
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