The Richard Jackson Saga: Book 11: Interesting Times

by Ed Nelson

  The Richard Jackson Saga

  Book 11: Interesting Times

  By Ed Nelson

  Other books by Ed Nelson

  The Richard Jackson Saga

  Book 1 The Beginning

  Book 2 Schooldays.

  Book 3 Hollywood!

  Book 4 In the Movies

  Book 5 Star to Deckhand

  Book 6 Surfing Dude

  Book 7 Third Time is a Charm

  Book 8: Oxford University

  Book 9: Cold War

  Book 10: Taking Care of Business

  Stand Alone Stories

  Ever and Always

  Dedication

  This is dedicated to my wife Carol for her support and help as my first reader and editor.

  Thanks to my Editors, Ernest Bywater, Lonelydad57, Old Rotorhead, Lon and Antti.

  Also, the Bellefontaine High School Class of 1962, just because.

  Quotation

  “That’s the way it happened, give or take a lie or two.”

  James Garner as Wyatt Earp describing the gunfight at the OK Corral in the movie Sunset.

  Copyright © 2021

  E. E. Nelson

  All rights reserved.

  Eastern Shore Publishing

  2331 Del Webb Blvd. W.

  Sun City Center, FL 33573

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage retrieval systems without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, organizations, places, events, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  ISBN 978-1953395-20-7

  Table of Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 40

  Chapter 41

  Chapter 42

  Chapter 43

  Chapter 44

  Chapter 45

  Chapter 46

  Chapter 47

  Chapter 48

  Chapter 49

  Chapter 50

  Chapter 51

  Chapter 52

  Chapter 1

  On Tuesday, January 2nd I flew back to London on my jet. Nina was staying an extra week with her parents. Her school wasn’t back in session until the following Monday. It is just as well; things had been heating up with us and I don’t know what would have happened with the two of us alone for many hours and a bed right there.

  We both agreed that is where we wanted to go but that it was too soon, we had some living to do before we settled down. Neither of us was the type to casually have sex, by our upbringing it would result in a lifelong commitment.

  I had picked up copies of the LA Times and Variety to read on the flight.

  I found it interesting that the US Navy created a group called Seals, formed from World War 2 groups known as the Scouts and Raiders. There would be two teams. There was Seal team 1 stationed on the Pacific, Team 2 on the Atlantic.

  The article told how they traced their origins to the Scouts and Raiders, Naval Combat Demolition Units, Office of Strategic Services, Operational Swimmers, Underwater Demolition Teams, and Motor Torpedo Boat Squadrons of World War II. It seemed to me like they were just rearranging deck chairs.

  In Variety I learned that the Beatles auditioned with Decca records and they were turned down. I think someone at Decca will live to regret that decision.

  I also read of the NBC Laramie peacock which had debuted last night. It was used to highlight their shows in color. The black and white programs were disappearing.

  Dad had bought two color sets for Jackson House. One for the entertainment room and one for his and mum’s bedroom. How decadent!

  I had a good night's sleep flying over the North Pole. They called it the polar route; I don’t know how close we had got. I didn’t care enough to go up front and ask.

  When I first obtained this aircraft, I had all sorts of intentions of riding upfront and getting hours in. Somehow that wasn’t happening. I needed to decide and stick to it.

  We landed in Oxford where the plane was based but I immediately went over to flight operations and filed a flight plan to London in my Cessna.

  It was early morning here and I had a noon lunch meeting with Mr. Norman about my Queen’s Messenger Duties. I would be staying in London overnight. No rest for the wicked.

  Harold had packed me an overnight bag and I had plenty of clothes at the Plaza. It is a wonder he didn’t have a full wardrobe there. I wasn’t going to mention it. I could afford it, but it seemed silly.

  Lunch was those little watercress sandwiches with the crust trimmed off that I hate. I would have to get a snack to tide me over until dinner.

  Some ham or beef on them would have helped, and maybe a slice of cheese with a little mustard and lose the watercress and keep the crust.

  I didn’t say anything as he seemed to enjoy them. You can pick up a lot of bad habits over time.

  The subject of my meeting was my trip. He wanted the highlights, not of my business but the political part. Mao’s death had come as a shocking surprise to the world.

  A full-blown civil war was underway with Deng Xiaoping’s following winning. They had support and weapons from some unknown source. They knew where the weapons were coming from, Russia, but they didn’t know who supplied the money.

  I was in a quandary as I realized who was backing this revolution. Me! It didn’t take me long to decide to come clean. They would find out in the long run.

  “I have guaranteed a one hundred-million-dollar loan through a bank in Switzerland for food and weapons. I did it to prevent mass starvation. I didn’t think at the time it would have much impact on the fighting.”

  “You are telling me that as a private citizen without the backing of Her Majesty’s Government have financed a revolution?”

  I responded with a hangdog sounding, yes, thinking I was about to get my head handed to me.

  “Sir Richard, this is great. The government has deniability but when Deng wins, we can take credit.”

  I didn’t think it would be that simple but kept my mouth shut.

  “What was used to secure the loan and where is the paperwork.”

  “There isn’t any.”

  “What, paperwork or something to secure the loan?”

  “Neither I sealed the deal with a handshake with Lady Ping.”

  At this, his mouth worked for a moment as he tried to get some words out that wouldn’t form.

  “You’re telling me that you kno
w the Empress-in-Exile of China well enough to hand her a hundred million dollars on a handshake?”

  “Yes, I like her and think she will be honest with me.”

  “How long have you known her and how did you meet?”

  “She has always been my contact at those dry-cleaning pickups.”

  “We never suspected.”

  I think Mr. Norman gave something away there; he was more connected with MI 6 than he let on. My name is Norman, John Norman. Nah it doesn’t have the ring to it.

  “My head is spinning from the possible ramifications of this. Do you think Deng will take political power but put the Empress back on the throne?”

  “I have no idea, though I would support that, she is good for China.”

  “We have to discuss this with the Queen. She may want to recognize Lady Ping in the title in advance. It would open a lot of doors in China.”

  “I can see that. Please let me know how that comes out.”

  “Nonsense, you are coming with me.”

  At that, he called the Queen's private secretary and made us an appointment just before dinner. This bummed me out as I wouldn’t be able to work in a snack before dinner.

  We spent the rest of the afternoon going over possible scenarios to present to the Queen. I asked if the Prime Minister would be involved and was told that this was a chance for the Crown to be ahead of the politicians, so no.

  They would be told just not upfront. They would try to take over this opportunity to normalize relations with China and bungle it as usual.

  At long last, we were escorted into Her Majesty's presence. My stomach told me starvation was setting in. I knew better but tell that to my stomach.

  The Queen listened calmly as though she heard about civil wars, enormous loans, weapon deals, and starving populations as though she heard them all the time. I guess maybe she had.

  “The best outcome would be that Deng takes political power while putting the Empress back on the throne. What would happen to the Communist Party?”

  “They would continue in power. The old guard members who are the true believers are dying out, if not outright being killed in the unpleasantness.”

  “The newer younger members will be looking for changes, where they can come into the modern world and make money and obtain power. The current Chinese economy has been stagnant. There is no room for growth.”

  “That sounds plausible Sir Richard. How would you proceed?”

  “I would keep as close of contact as I can with Lady Ping. At the same time, I can shift my finances around so that I could free up another one hundred million to support the Deng group.”

  “That is an awful risk you are taking. We cannot back your finances in any way.”

  “I understand, but this is a rare opportunity to help half a billion people better their lives. Besides I’m only seventeen, I don’t need that sort of money. If I were still in Ohio, I would be doing good to have twenty dollars a week.”

  “As it is, I could end up down to my last fifty million until I made more that is.”

  “You poor boy, you go with our best wishes. Mr. Norman, stay for a word.”

  I backed out of the small room thinking of food. Just outside the doorway, I had to stop for a footman carrying a load passing by with a heavy load.

  I accidentally heard part of a conversation, well a few words, one of them was Dukedom. Nah.

  I couldn’t get to Arthur Treacher’s place for fish and chips fast enough. I didn’t inhale them, but I ate them quickly, they were so good I had a second order.

  From my hotel room, I placed a call to my parents updating them on my conversations of the afternoon with both Mr. Norman and the Queen.

  I was urged to play this close to my vest. There was a good chance I would lose all my money and so be it. There was also a chance to do some real good in the world.

  Chapter 2

  Friday morning, I flew back to Oxford and returned to The Meadows. I had big plans for Friday night. I was to meet up with my friends from school and have a pub night.

  I had the house to myself as Grand Mum and Mr. Hamilton were still in California enjoying the weather. I hadn’t seen their forecast, but it had to be better than England's cold and rain.

  As to having the house to myself, the staff was still there. The cook made a wonderful Yorkshire pudding for dinner, so I was ready for a night out.

  Bill, Tom, Steve, and I met at the Dog and Crown our favorite hangout. It had been a while since we had seen each other so we had a lot of updating to do over a pint or two.

  Bill was doing well in school and was going to get a first.

  Tom was hanging in there with his current girlfriend. He was a little nervous because she was making wedding hints. He wanted it and didn’t want it. I didn’t try to give any advice on this.

  Steve let us know he was thinking about dropping out of school and joining the army. We had a go at him to find out what was causing this. It turned out his Dad’s business was in trouble and money was short.

  That is one I could talk about.

  “Steve would a loan help your father get back on his feet.”

  “I think so; he says it was just a bad drop-off in business that caught him short. He went to his bank, but they refused him.”

  I wrote my bank's name and the officer to contact and asked him to give it to his father.

  “Rick, I can’t ask you to do this.”

  “You didn’t I volunteered. Do you know how much he needs?”

  “He told me ten thousand pounds would do it.”

  I pulled out my ever-present pocket notebook and wrote a reminder to call the bank early on Monday.

  “I’m serious, do it, it is what friends do when they can, besides, you would be the sloppiest looking soldier in the history of soldiering.”

  That last remark worked as intended as the other two piled on about what sort of soldier Steve would make. It relieved the tension and allowed us to get back to the serious business of drinking.

  Since we had last met, I had been involved in that rescue in the creek, broke an arm, been made a Baron, killed a robber, and been wounded by him. Then I made a business trip around the world.

  In other words, the usual. They didn’t see it that way, but I had come to accept my life.

  When I told them about my new jet they wanted to go somewhere. When they heard about the interior Tom had to ask, “Have you and Nina joined the the-mile-high club?”

  “I’m not that sort of boy, but more realistically she isn’t that sort of girl.”

  That impressed them, not about me but that Nina appeared to be playing a long game. According to them, I was done for.

  That wasn’t a fate worse than death, so I didn’t react to their teasing.

  They asked if since I was in Hong Kong did, I have any inside information on Chairman Mao’s death.

  “Only what is in the papers and what Lady Ping told me. Oops, shouldn’t have said that.

  “Who is Lady Ping?”

  “The Empress in Exile of China.”

  “Of course, you would know her. Next, we will hear you are helping her regain her throne.”

  I tried not to react, but something gave me away. They jumped all over me, “You are! What are you doing financing their civil war?”

  “Guys, I’ve said too much, we are now in official secrets territory, the Queen could have my head.”

  When will I learn to keep my big fat mouth shut?

  Fortunately, they let it go; it might have been helped by the two young ladies who came up looking for dart partners.

  Bill and Steve jumped at the chance; by the look, I got from one of the girls she had missed her target.

  The evening wore on and the stout flowed. I had left my car at my in-town garage. I managed to semi-stagger back there and spend the night.

  In the morning I had a raging headache. I had some aspirin, but they didn’t seem to help. I managed to get back to The Meadows where I took a long shower the
n had the cook fix me a large breakfast.

  From the way she rattled her pans she knew my problem and had no sympathy. I took my coffee and told her I would be in the library. I had to get away from the racket.

  I managed to eat my breakfast. At least I didn’t have digestive problems at either end. Why did I drink so much, never again!

  I went back to my room and lay down. I ended up sleeping until lunch. I was feeling better by then, at least the anvil chorus had stopped, and it was now the occasional trip hammer.

  I hadn’t had anything to drink for months, and I wouldn’t drink alcohol in the foreseeable future. I wondered how the men in my family managed to become alcoholics.

  I hoped that those blighters who had made me drink all that were suffering as bad as I was. Well maybe they didn’t force me, but I didn’t mind the thought of them suffering along with me.

  Saturday was a lost day. Staff showed their approval of my actions by hoovering any room I was in while playing the wireless loud.

  I finally went for a long walk around the ground. As it was Saturday work on the ruins and the amusement park was down for the weekend. The fact that it was cold, and misting might have had something to do with it.

  I kicked around the ruins wondering if I could find more treasure but didn’t even find a hobnail. I must say the walk did me a world of good.

  Returning to the house I settled in with a newspaper, The Telegraph. The only story of note was that Pope John XXIII had excommunicated Fidel Castro.

  The fact that Castro was excommunicated meant little as he had the guns. What impressed me was Pope John XXIII. Twenty-two previous Popes named John. That had to be a track record. I looked up in the encyclopedia and it was.

  The funny thing was there was never a Pope John XX. I wondered if there would be a Pope John XXX. Probably not the church has to watch its image. Though some of the stories the catholic boys in Bellefontaine told made me wonder if they cared.