THE LEGACY
E. A. Briginshaw
Copyright © 2014 Ernest A. Briginshaw
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or by any information storage retrieval system without the express written permission of the author except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.
Graphic design work for the book cover completed by Nicole Hill. Images used on the book cover are licensed through Shutterstock. “Christ The Redeemer”: Mark Schwettman / Shutterstock.com “Runners”: Pavel L Photo and Video / Shutterstock.com
This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, names, incidents, organizations and dialogue in this novel are either the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.
ISBN: 978-0-9921390-2-5 (Book)
ISBN: 978-0-9921390-3-2 (eBook)
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
Although the novel is a work of fiction, some of the characters are composite characters based on my family and friends. Thanks to all of the people who reviewed and critiqued numerous drafts of this novel including friends, members of my family and writers from the London Writers Society. Special thanks to Nicole Hill for the graphic design of the images used on the book cover.
One of the fictional characters in this book, Tom Beamish, was named as a tribute to Maureen Beamish who passed away suddenly as the result of an accident in October 2012. Maureen worked for Legacy Partners of London Inc. and was always a warm and friendly person. She will be missed and remembered forever.
*** Chapter 1 ***
Eric Baxter gradually gained consciousness with a bad taste in his mouth, a mixture of blood and dirt. He spit the dirt out as he rolled over onto his back and felt the excruciating pain in his shoulder as he did so.
“Where am I?” he thought to himself.
The first light of daybreak came slithering through the canopy above him and it took a few seconds for his brain to comprehend what his eyes were seeing. The canopy was a huge brownish-green tarp that hung over make-shift poles that filled the room. His eyes followed the line of poles until they collided with the walls that were made out of a combination of barbed wire and chicken wire.
As the light grew, he realized he was not alone. Others lay in this dungeon with him. His eyes could barely focus but he recognized the body of his brother lying about thirty feet away. He tried to get up to check on him, but failed in his attempt. His mind was spinning as he tried to figure out where they were and how they got here. He continued to scan his surroundings until he saw the light reflect off the barrel of a rifle. The fear sliced through him like a knife as he started to recall the events of the last twenty-four hours. As he lost consciousness again, his mind drifted back to happier times.
*** Chapter 2 * **
Four months earlier…
Eric Baxter sat in the large auditorium with all of the other graduating students and strained his neck to try to see where his father and brother were sitting. However, he couldn’t pick them out of the crowd of several hundred people who had come to see their loved ones receive their diplomas.
“Good afternoon everyone and welcome to the graduation ceremonies for the Business and Economics class of Fanshawe College,” announced the master of ceremonies. “I’d like to begin by introducing our panel of distinguished presenters for today’s ceremony.”
Eric squirmed in his seat as he was already finding the graduation gown to be unbearably hot. He hoped the speeches wouldn’t go on for too long before they started handing out the diplomas, but those hopes were quickly dashed when he heard the mayor introduced as one of the speakers. That meant that there would be no shortage of hot air being spewed into the room.
Out in the audience, Brian Baxter watched the proceedings with pride. Brian was in his mid-fifties and his grey hairs now out-numbered the black ones. He was tall and thin, in contrast to Eric who looked more like his mother’s side of the family. Eric had floundered for several years after graduating high school floating from one dead-end job to the next. Brian wasn’t sure this day would ever arrive but he knew that his wife never gave up hope that Eric would graduate from college. He wished she was still alive to see this, but Jean had passed away after a battle with cancer over five years ago. He would have to tell her all about it in their next conversation.
Brian looked at the empty chair on his right and wondered when his other son Charles, or Chip as he was more commonly known, would arrive. He showed up just as they were starting to hand out the diplomas.
“You’re late,” Brian said as he picked up the program he had placed on the vacant chair to hold the seat.
“I’m not late,” Chip whispered. “I’m efficient. I didn’t want to sit through all of those boring speeches and I got here just in time to see Eric get his diploma.” Chip gave his father a reassuring smile.
“And now the graduates of the Business - Financial Planning program,” said the master of ceremonies.
There were about thirty students majoring in Financial Planning and they all rose from their seats and started up the stairs to the stage. Brian grabbed his camera and raced down the aisle so he could get a picture of Eric as he was presented his diploma. When Eric saw him, he rolled his eyes in embarrassment, but the smile on his face showed it was a pretty big deal to him as well.
After the ceremony, all of the graduates gathered in the cafeteria for the reception, which easily spilled out onto the lawn outside of the building.
“Congratulations son,” Brian said, giving Eric a hug.
“Thanks Dad.”
Chip came forward and gave his brother a fist pump. “Hi Chip. I’m glad you came. I guess the next one of these will be when you graduate from Ohio State.”
Chip had started attending the University of Waterloo a few years ago but had switched to Ohio State after they offered him a full athletic scholarship. Chip was twenty-three years old, three years younger than his brother. He was tall and thin like his father and a very good athlete. He specialized in long distance running, normally the 5,000 or 10,000 metre events, but he sometimes also competed in the 1,500 metre races. Brian had hoped that Chip would represent Canada in the upcoming Olympics, but Chip had applied to become a U.S. citizen a few years ago and they had fast-tracked his application so he could try out for the U.S. Olympic team. It had broken Brian’s heart to hear that his son wouldn’t be representing Canada, but Chip had said it would be easier to take advantage of the U.S. Olympic training program as they had a lot more money, which meant better coaches and training facilities.
Brian saw Tom Beamish among the crowd and waved him over to join them. Tom was in his early sixties and had been a close friend of Brian’s for almost thirty years. Tom was also his investment advisor and had influenced Eric to pursue financial planning as his career.
“Congratulations,” Tom said to Eric, giving him a firm handshake. “I heard you got the job with the bank.”
“Yeah, thanks for all of your help,” Eric said. “I started about a month ago and the people there seem really great. I’m not sure I would have got the job without you as a reference.”
“No problem. I think working for a bank is the best fit for you at this stage of your career. I think you’d starve living off the commissions you’d get making sales for an investment broker.”
Like several of his fellow graduates, Eric had been courted by a few of the big investment firms and their stories about how much money their representatives could make. Several of the graduates had been approached to bring twenty or more contacts with them to the interviews. Eric could easily come up with that many contacts, but most of them were in their twenties and like him, didn’t have any
money to invest.
Eric heard his name being called and saw several of his classmates gathering for a group photo. He thanked Tom again and headed off to be part of it. Chip headed off in the same direction, mostly because he noticed that there were several cute girls in Eric’s class.
“So I presume you’ll be moving your money over to the bank so that Eric can look after your investments,” Tom said to Brian after they had left.
“Not to worry,” Brian said. “I don’t believe in having all of my money managed by just one person.”
“Even if they’re family?”
“Especially if they’re family,” Brian said, nudging Tom with his shoulder. “I’m planning to move the money that I have with Great West Life over to Eric so he can get his feet wet, but I’ll be leaving most of my investments with you for a while yet. I really appreciate all of the advice you’ve given me over the years and for helping Eric get started in his career.”
“I’ll help him out whenever I can and I won’t feel slighted if you want to move more and more of your money over to Eric to manage.”
Tom had already been a mentor to several college students over the years and had been a guest lecturer at numerous classes, but he’d taken a special interest in Eric. Tom had been in the business long enough to see the rise and fall of the markets several times over. He had seen a lot of financial advisors be there in the good times, but bail when the going got tough. He had a feeling that Eric would be there for his clients through thick and thin.
Eric and Chip came back over to tell their dad that they were heading off with some of the students for a post-graduation party. “We’ll see you at Tony Roma’s tomorrow night for your birthday supper,” Eric said as they headed off. Brian was turning fifty-five and always liked to feast on a full rack of ribs on his birthday.
“Did you get dad a birthday present yet?” Chip asked Eric as they walked away.
“Yep, I got him one of those new Adams rescue golf clubs that he’s been talking about, the ones that are supposed to make it easier to get the ball out of the rough. We saw it advertised on the Golf Channel a few weeks ago and dad was wondering if it would help his game. How about you?”
“I haven’t got him anything yet, but I’ll pick up something tomorrow before the dinner,” Chip said.
The next day Chip was wandering through the mall looking for a present, but didn’t see anything that he liked. He noticed a huge line-up at the lottery ticket booth and signs that said the jackpot had grown to $50 million dollars, plus ten additional bonus draws for $1 million each.
“That could work,” Chip thought to himself. But he didn’t want to wait in line as it didn’t seem a very efficient use of his time. “That will be my backup plan,” he thought. He continued to search the stores in the mall but the only thing he bought was a birthday card that had a funny picture of an old guy golfing and complaining that he couldn’t find his balls anymore. As he was paying for the card, Chip heard the announcement that the stores would soon be closing. He hustled back to the lottery ticket booth which now had no line-up at all and purchased a lottery ticket.
At supper that night, Brian and Eric both finished off a full rack of ribs. Chip barely ate half of his meal. “Is there something wrong with your ribs?” Brian asked Chip.
“No, they’re fine. My gut is bothering me a bit. It’s been bugging me for the last few weeks.”
“Well, make sure you see a doctor to get everything checked out.”
“I will,” Chip said, but knew he wouldn’t. He was sure it was just stress caused by the exams he had just written at Ohio State, plus worrying about the upcoming Olympic trials.
“Here’s your birthday present,” Eric said after they had finished the meal. Brian had already seen it was a golf club as it was impossible to gift-wrap, although he had taped a bow to the end of it.
“This is great,” Brian said. “I’ve seen these advertised on TV and a few of the guys have said it really helps their golf game.”
Chip gave his dad the birthday card with the lottery ticket inside. “Cute,” Brian said when he read the card, “but I’m still young enough to know exactly where my balls are.”
“I hope you win the $50 million,” Chip said.
“This is actually for next week’s draw,” Brian said, “not tonight’s draw. When did you buy the ticket?”
“Just before I came for dinner. Why would they sell me a ticket for next week’s draw?”
“You must have missed the cut-off time to get into tonight’s draw. Not to worry, I wouldn’t know what to do with $50 million anyway.”
“Speaking of money,” Eric said. “Did you get a chance to look at that investor profile questionnaire I gave you? I really need you to complete it before I can invest any of your money.”
“No, not yet,” Brian replied. “But I’ll take a look at it over the next few days.”
They finished their meal which included a small birthday cake that the boys had secretly snuck into the restaurant. Their server didn’t seem to mind. In fact, she added a sparkler and had several of the other servers join in to sing happy birthday, much to Brian’s embarrassment.
* * *
The next evening Brian sat down at his dining room table and opened the investor profile questionnaire that Eric had given him. It was quite comprehensive, much more so than anything Brian had ever seen before. Rather than being intrusive, it actually gave Brian more confidence that they’d be managing his money based on his requirements rather than just trying to sell him mutual funds and generating sales commissions. The first few questions were fairly typical.
“How old are you?” Brian ticked the box that indicated he was between 50 and 65 years old.
“What is your estimated net worth?” Brian ticked the box indicating his net worth was over one million dollars. He started jotting down some figures and calculated that it was about $8.5 million. He had owned and operated several successful businesses and led a conservative lifestyle so he didn’t spend much, relatively speaking. And Tom had managed his investments quite well, contributing significantly to the growth over the years.
Brian completed several more pages of the questionnaire. Some of the questions were hard to answer, forcing him to think for quite a while before making a choice. One of the last questions was the most interesting.
“Please rate the relative importance of each of the following objectives on a scale from one to ten, with one being the least important and ten being the most important.”
Brian gave the “Maximum Growth” category a rating of two as he felt that he had saved more than enough money already to live comfortably. He gave the “Security” section a rating of eight as he didn’t feel comfortable taking a lot of risk with his investments. He continued through the questionnaire filling in his ratings for several more categories.
The last one was titled “Leaving a Legacy” and Brian didn’t hesitate at all. He immediately gave that a rank of ten.
*** Chapter 3 ***
Eric sat in his office at the bank reviewing the questionnaire that his father had provided him. He had been working at the bank for just over a month and had gone through the initial consultation with only about a dozen clients so far. The first few had been done in partnership with the senior financial planner for the region who had sat in on the meetings in case Eric came across something he didn’t know how to handle. Since then, Eric had successfully handled the meetings on his own, but his boss would be sitting in on this meeting as well. The bank’s policy prevented Eric from handling matters for family members without having a supervisor sign off on everything to prevent any conflict of interest. Tom Beamish would also be sitting in on the meeting. Eric was nervous knowing that his mentor, his boss, and more importantly, his father, would be watching his every move. He was surprised to find that he felt more nervous now than he had when he’d written the Certified Financial Planner exams. Eric took a deep breath and headed out to the waiting room.
“Hi Dad
. Hello Mr. Beamish.” He showed them the way to his office and invited them to sit down.
“Pretty big office,” Brian said teasingly. “Tom, how many years were you in the business before you got an office this big?”
“My office still isn’t this big,” Tom said.
“This is just temporary,” Eric said, somewhat embarrassed. “I’ll be moving into the smaller office across the hall next week when Bob leaves. He’s been transferred to the Kitchener branch. They’re just letting me use the regional manager’s office until then.”
Just then, the regional manager came into the office and introduced himself. He had known Tom Beamish for over ten years but had never met Brian before. “Don’t mind me, I’ll just sit in the back and monitor things,” the regional manager said.
Eric invited Brian and Tom to sit down at a small table in the corner of the office. “Thanks for completing the investor profile. I just have a few additional questions.” Eric laid out the pages of the questionnaire in front of them. “I noticed that most of your money is invested in Canada and the United States, with only a fraction invested in Europe, Asia and South America. Given the size of your portfolio, is there a reason that you’re avoiding those parts of the world?”
“I just don’t feel comfortable investing in parts of the world that I don’t know much about,” Brian said.
“I’ve been trying to get your dad to consider diversifying to more international investments,” Tom said, “but you know how stubborn he can be.”
Eric just smiled, thinking it best not to comment on his father’s stubborn streak. “Okay, I understand that you want to move the money you’ve got with Great West Life over to our bank. I noticed that money is currently held in segregated funds. Why have you got that money in seg funds?”
The Legacy Page 1
