Probe

by Douglas E Roff

  “He was looking at the wrong part of your anatomy. I’d have paid a lot more attention to what was above your shoulders myself. That being said, I’m looking to adopt another daughter. Let me know if you’re interested; I’ll send you an application.”

  “And Hannah thinks you’re Satan incarnate. Can’t understand why.”

  “Me neither. But think it over. And Vera?”

  “Yes?”

  “Just between us girls, if you don’t mind. She gets really cranky with me when she thinks I’m intruding.”

  “Sure, Dad. Just between us girls.”

  ***

  Vera had her presentation set up in the Tech Centre at the Loft. She was dressed as usual for a Saturday morning, the only difference being she wasn’t wearing her contacts. Hannah always loved it when Vera wore her glasses; she looked halfway between sexy librarian, and hot English schoolmarm. Hannah couldn’t help it; Vera was hot in any outfit at any time of the day, but the black horn rim glasses did set Hannah to hoping Vera would keep her late after class for a scolding of some sort.

  The assembled crowd included James, Raoul and the sisters. She had a ten-page bound handout, complete with numbers projecting escalating rents at a CPI inflator over the next twenty years. The girls would each earn well over ten thousand pounds each per month, have no liability or responsibility for the upkeep of the property, and would be able to buy a home of their own with a low interest rate loan provided by the tenant as part of the deal. The tenant, a major US Computer manufacturer and retailer, was looking for a flagship store location in Central London and accepted the deal as presented with little in the way of counter-offer.

  If the sisters wanted to, they could ink the deal the following week. All paperwork had been prepared by their new solicitors, to be paid by the new tenant out of the proceeds at closing.

  “The tenant will strip the building to the brick walls, and completely rebuild the space. The first two floors will be for retail and presentation, the third floor for executive offices, conference and presentation facilities, and the basement will be sales offices and inventory storage. The lease is triple net, so the tenant pays everything; the management of the space, what little there will be, will be handled by Harrington’s. That’s included in the lease too. You can borrow funds at 1% interest from the tenant up to two hundred fifty thousand pounds each to buy a home or apartment wherever you like. Thirty-year amortization of monthly payments.”

  The men had no real idea what Vera was talking about, but Penny did. Doris was too shocked to speak.

  Penny said to Raoul, “Doris and I will have an annual income of about one hundred twenty thousand pounds each, every year, increasing with the cost of living index, and a new home each that will cost us about a thousand pounds a month. It’s … it’s unbelievable. How did you do all, I mean, any of this?”

  “I’m not just a pretty face you know. Daddy was a banker. I paid attention when he thought I was asleep. Plus, my new papa helped me out a little. My structure, his contacts.”

  Hannah shot Vera a sideways look of disapproval. Vera shot back a look of ‘I don’t care, this was my deal and my business. Butt out.’

  Vera said, “Well, ladies, what do you think?”

  “Where do we sign?” said Penny.

  “What she said,” added Doris.

  “Can you start over again, a little more slowly? I got lost at triple net,” said Raoul.

  James said, “Our girls are now women of independent means. And way out of our league.”

  “Excellent! I’m dating Lady Penny of the Pennington’s of Newcastle Street. We’re moving up James.”

  ***

  The deal was inked the following week. They set the date to close the old business for two weeks later. They had discussions with Vera about what they wanted to do next and began making plans. They decided that they wanted to stay in the bakery business but were unsure that staying in central London was such a good idea. After all, renting space would be just as expensive as the space they had just let.

  “Not necessarily,” said Vera. “Why don’t we think of a new business model, and not have you compete with every Tom, Dick and Harry selling bread and hot cross buns.”

  Doris said, “What do you mean?”

  ***

  Vera explained her idea to the girls who thought the concept marvelous, but about which they had little experience. After all, this was an upscale idea dependent upon movement within a social circle with which Doris and Penny weren’t familiar.

  “No worries ladies, your skills and experience with my money, and influence, and we’ll make a go of this opportunity.”

  “Your what?”

  “My money and influence ladies. I want you to carry on with the management of the bakers and confectioners, while I supply the money, and the marketing. Just wait and see, this will be a lot of fun.”

  Vera had spent a great deal of time with both Doris, and Penny over the weeks, and months since they first met that Friday at the Pub. She had grown quite fond of them and saw them as potential partners in an endeavor that she wanted to try out. Vera had never been interested in any activity other than the pursuit of her daily life until moving to London. Then she saw the City as a challenge to be surmounted and met, though the nature of the challenge had been unknown to her.

  When she met the girls, saw their bakery, and assessed their skills, Vera drew the conclusion that a reorientation of their business acumen to a new niche, one that wasn’t being met, was what was in order. She appreciated the job Edward had devised for her, and for which she was well suited. But her active role was likely unnecessary, and even if it were, she could perform her duties with a minimum investment of time.

  Her attention was now diverted to a very different project, and her interest and excitement for all things Gens, now on the wane.

  Penny said, “What would three birds like us be doing in a business like that? We have no experience with any of this.”

  “What did you just say, Penny?”

  “What?”

  “What did you just say? Something about birds?”

  “Birds. Girls. Women. It’s British slang.”

  “Three birds, you say. Why Penny, we now have a name for our business. It’s perfect. 3 Birds Bakery and Confections.

  Chapter 42

  3 Birds Bakery and Confections opened for business some two months later, using a business model Vera had read about back in the States. The baking, and confectioning would be done off site, and in a much lower rent part of greater London in an industrial, and warehouse section of the City. The shops themselves, and there would be three, were small “micro locations” where baked goods and confections would be sold to walk in customers, but JIT principles would be employed for specialty orders. The off-site bakery would supply their retail, but also serve as a specialty wholesale provider of baked goods and confections and caterer to the expat community living in or passing through London. All goods would be branded as “3 Birds”.

  Her business model was to capture what many expats felt; the lack of a food connection to home even in most large foreign cities. Sure, there may be a bakery or two for the immigrants from around the world, but they might be in any part of the City. Vera wanted them to have access to the goodies they desired quickly and daily. Vera’s research turned up the top ten or so expat communities in London, then set about finding the bakers, and confectioners with Penny and Doris who could authentically replicate the things these expats missed most.

  Their goods were rich and sinful, just like back home. Their wholesale business began to supply restaurants and hotels and their catering targeted Embassies and their multicultural events. One caterer, 3 Birds, could supply baked goods, desserts, and confections from a dozen or so countries, making events even more enjoyable for those in attendance. The goodies were pricey, but totally authentic, and available even on short notice.

  3 Birds mini bakeries were becoming Lo
ndon tourist attractions and places to see and be seen. Vera and her partners were becoming much in demand, with features in the tabloids, and local magazines providing valuable sources of free promotion. Pictures of the attractive ladies were often in evidence, and life size cardboard cut outs began appearing around town.

  3 Birds was a hit and the three “Birds” now woven into the fabric of London tourism.

  ***

  On a sunny spring morning, the ladies were visiting one of their locations, talking to the girls and guys who manned the store. It was their custom to visit each location every day to be seen by employees and customers alike. That they visited their stores wasn’t only not a secret, it was often much anticipated.

  On that day, the Birds had a visitor, an old acquaintance of Penny’s. An ex-boyfriend and a young man who hadn’t yet fully accepted that she had moved on and was no longer interested in what he had to offer. He had been drinking and was quite belligerent when he arrived at 3 Birds #1 around eleven in the morning.

  As voices were raised and insults hurled their way, the tourists, and regulars at 3 Birds #1 looked on as the girls tried to move the fellow out, and away from the customers. Naturally, people began filming the altercation with their camera phones, and eventually passers-by couldn’t help, but hear and see what was transpiring. Most walked on by, and when nobody stopped to intervene, Vera acted. She pushed the bully away from the store and kept pushing him until he was well away from their patrons.

  Emboldened by their partner’s bravery, Doris and Penny had experienced enough too. The three women proceeded to punch and kick the man to the ground and sat on him while one of their employees called the Bobbies.

  The constabulary arrived promptly, cuffed the miscreant and proceeded to take witness statements. The incident was over almost as quickly as it had begun, and the girls went on about their business in the normal course of an average day.

  It was not, however, an average day. It was an extraordinary day.

  The video of the encounter, now known in London as “Garter Belts beat Bully” was derived from a single video frame in which the garter belts the ladies were wearing were clearly visible, attached to their tasteful bird patterned nylons that had become their trademark. This as the man was seen being pushed down and taking a small beating that would follow. The girls, and the incident, had become quite visible. Now, more than ever before, having a photo snapped with one or more of the “Birds” had become popular among the locals and tourists alike.

  Getting the girls to show a little leg was considered a prize among the men who had newly fallen in love with the ladies, their business acumen, and their courage. A local politician offered to make Vera an honorary “Brit”, and her celebrity grew along with that of her partners.

  Then the YouTube video surfaced of the incident, and all of London exploded.

  Two weeks later, Vera received a rather cryptic note from a mysterious gentleman at the American Embassy, asking if she could come down for a visit. She presented herself, alone, the very next day and was escorted to the office of the Ambassador himself. Her escort was dismissed, and the Ambassador closed the door and asked Vera if he could get her anything. Coffee? Tea? Diet soda?

  Ambassador Peter Wellington was a man of considerable wealth, who had married well and into an old New York family of some repute. He was himself from a family of excellent origins, though of less historical note. The family had made its fortune in the American West during the times of the great trusts, the very business conglomerations that President Teddy Roosevelt was successful in breaking up. Though caught up in some of the legal proceedings, they sold out, and had invested well and conservatively. They weathered the storm of the Roaring Twenties and the Great Depression and had invested a tidy portion of the family fortune in real estate in the growing metropolis of Los Angeles, California.

  The post war boom in Southern California was a boon to the family fortunes, and the real estate business was well managed and diversified. In the Sixties, the family began in the construction business and, within a decade, had become a major player in the booming business of developing regional Malls. They eventually put their commercial office buildings, strip centers and Malls into a new form of public company called a “real estate investment trust”, or REIT. It provided liquidity, used capital raised to reduce mortgage debt, and pay a monthly dividend, in arrears.

  Between stock ownership, real estate acquisition fees, property management fees and dividend distributions, the family did well. They supported the arts, educational institutions and various charities involved with rural literacy, youth organizations and organized amateur sports. Their wealth and status grew as did the sophistication of their business endeavors; a new generation of Wellingtons, whose family roots could now be traced back to humble English origins, was well educated at the collegiate level and through a new post graduate business educational offering, the Master of Business Administration, or MBA.

  Ambassador Peter Wellington had long been involved in the family business, finding his way into civic politics, then eventually into politics at the state and national level. When the new President was elected, Peter Wellington, after a brief stint at the State Department, was proposed for the soon vacant position of Ambassador to Great Britain. He had worked with a career diplomat, a woman who had been assigned to him to assist in educating him in the protocols of diplomacy.

  Mary Elizabeth McQueen Outlander had enjoyed the task of bringing Peter Wellington along. When he left for the UK, he had thanked her for all her guidance and assistance, suggesting she could have an important role in his Ambassadorship to the Court of St. James’s. She laughed at the humor of being involved again with Edward St. James while simultaneously supporting the new Ambassador to Great Britain, whose formal appointment was known as the Ambassador to the Court of St. James.

  While in Washington, DC, Bethy got to know both Peter and his wife, the former Sylvia Sinclair Sutton, now Wellington. They had two children, now both in college in California, and were generally acknowledged to have a reasonably happy marriage.

  However, the only blemish on an otherwise pacific existence was the issue of Peter’s wellbeing. He was fit and was otherwise in the full bloom of excellent health, but, for some reason, Sylvia objected to his occasional beer and his love of rich jelly donuts and triple chocolate walnut cake brownies.

  His wife, who could be quite headstrong, had all but forbidden his indulgences. She informed his personal secretary, his personal security, and his physician that these items, along with any similar items, were expressly forbidden. The entire Embassy staff, top to bottom, was well-aware of these proscriptions and nobody, nobody, was willing to cross the Ambassador’s wife in this matter.

  Then Ambassador Peter Wellington contacted Bethy McQueen, who had asked him to keep an eye on Ms. Vera Capri and Ms. Hannah Parker. This he did through unofficial channels, until one day he put two and two together, and figured out the woman in the Press, who ran a bakery called 3 Birds, was the very same Vera Capri he had been asked to carefully watch over.

  He could smell and almost taste the jelly donuts and triple chocolate walnut cake brownies. A cold beer would then be added to this fantasy and his former indulgences were realized once more. He called Ms. Vera Capri to his office, ostensibly to congratulate her on her bravery and notoriety, but they got down to business right away.

  “Can you help me with this small matter? It doesn’t exactly rise to the level of the CIA intrigue but it’s nonetheless a secret mission.”

  He explained his dilemma.

  “Leave it in my capable hands and we’ll figure out a way to satisfy your needs. We’ll need a website and a cell phone. But otherwise, consider the task ‘mission accomplished’.”

  Over time, Vera became the supplier of choice to more than the US Ambassador to Great Britain. Even the Cuban Ambassador used her private services for exactly the same reason. His wife, Antonia Mariel Garcia, was less sweet
and far stricter than Peter’s wife; the Ambassadors of several other foreign nations were likewise on Vera’s private list. Some speculated that Vera Capri, only known as the “other woman” was somehow “involved” with one or more of these Ambassadors.

  She was, of course; just not as intimately as conjectured.

  Chapter 43

  Demitri Asinamayov had concluded his investigation based on new data, and newer instructions from Paulo. Although initially suspicious of Paulo’s reasoning, he concluded that there was a reason, a very good reason, that Paulo was the Gens in charge. Rather than go directly for the name of the Human, who appeared to be a ghost, he decided to look for potential suspects in or around the orbit of the Human.

  Demitri had been tasked with starting over looking for the Human. When his work yielded nothing tangible, Demitri went back to the source. What next?

  Demitri said, “I don’t think he has a connection to the DataLab Project. Surely something would’ve surfaced by now. Something, no matter how small or insignificant, would’ve come to our attention.”

  It had, but they had missed it. There were two leads yielded from an article written by an academic using the DL Main. But the only significance they attached to it had been disclosure the existence of the DL Main and its amazing capabilities. They dismissed the names of Drs. Edward and Adam St. James as of no importance. Merely adepts using the machine; nothing more.

  “Perhaps,” said Paulo, “but I have a new idea, and one that might work better than using you and your resources. Let’s go to government for a change.”

  “OK? How do we do that?”

  “Let’s let the US Federal government do some of the legwork.”

  “What do you have in mind?”

  ***

  Fifteen years ago, a young Gens college graduate of Cornell University came to Paulo with a novel idea for a long-term project. It was based on the young man’s understanding of the various organizations that had been infiltrated by the Gens as sort of a safety valve, and insurance policy against surprises that could crop up unexpectedly from an unknown source. Initially, Paulo hadn’t been enthusiastic about the potential for the investment in the young man but, since it would cost the Collective nothing, he decided to give his approval.