Hampton Manor (22 page)

The third call was to Chuck Meredith to get an update on the search for the “mystery heir”.
By now they should have located Sarah Gershwin and Alice Wentworth and must have found out something about “E”.

“Chuck, I haven’t heard from you. What’s taking so blasted long?”

“We’re going as quickly as we can, Mister Hampton. It was so long ago. People have moved away, some have died and others can’t remember even when some green is offered to jog their memory.”

“I don’t want to hear your excuses. I’m paying you for results. This is taking much too long and is costing too much. It’s been a week now since you told me about those two women. What’s the story on them?”

“We found something, but I was waiting until my guys finished the trace. What we know so far, is that Sarah Gershwin was married to Mark Gershwin at the time she was meeting with your father. They divorced in July of that year. She died in childbirth that September. The baby was stillborn. It was a boy.”

Could she be the one? Maybe dad didn’t know the baby died. This could all be a wild goose chase. Maybe I’ve been getting myself worked up for no reason.

“What happened to the husband?”

“He remarried in March of the following year. Both he and his new bride were killed in a boating accident while they were on their honeymoon. We’re still looking.”

“Okay, look, don’t waste any more time on that one. If the baby died there is no reason to continue the search. What about Alice Wentworth?”

“That search is proving even more difficult. Their time together was so short. The hotel they frequented a few times burned to the ground five years after their stay there. It wasn’t part of a chain or anything and it was never rebuilt. Any records of their stay were lost in the fire and there is no of record of employees. All businesses adjacent to where the hotel used to stand are less than twenty years old. Believe it or not, a name search comes up with twenty-seven Alice Wentworths within a two hundred mile radius of New Haven. It’s like looking for a needle in a haystack and we’re not even certain that we have the right haystack. We start our check by phone. Half of the time we have to leave a message or there just isn’t any answer. Some numbers we’ve called a dozen times and still no answer. We’ve sent a few men out to check at the addresses, but that didn’t help either. The next thing will try on those few is an official looking letter . We’ll see how that works.”

“Put the people from the Gershwin trace on this one too.”

“It’s not just a manpower issue, Mister Hampton. We really don’t know what to look for next.”

“That’s all the more reason for you to complete your search for Alice Wentworth. Why not place some discreet ads in the personal section of the daily papers. Maybe that will flush somebody out, or check Google for lost schoolmates. There’s got to be someone out there that knows what happened to this Alice Wentworth.”
 

“That’s a good idea. I’ll get some people right on that right away.”

Adam shook his head.
He should have thought of that. Am I the only one with an imagination? What the hell am I paying him for, anyway?

“What about the specific search for “E”? Are there any leads there at all?

“None yet, but we still have a lot of phone records to go through. You know it occurred to me that the “E” initial may have been some sort of a code rather than the first initial of a first or last name.

“That’s a good point, but that’s all the more reason to follow up on all leads.

Put more people on this if you have to. I want answers, not more excuses.”

“Yes, sir.”

Adam slammed the phone down and mixed another drink. He sat down in his favorite chair in front of the fireplace. He ran over his mental list of things to do
. I haven’t
heard from John about what my father remembers about “E”. He should have something by now.

John answered on the first ring. “Good afternoon, Mister Hampton. What can I do for you?”

“I’m just checking up on my father. Milton’s said nothing about it at breakfast.”

“There’s been a slight improvement. The doctor’s optimistic that the effects of his seizure will be gone in another day, but we’re on a high state of alert, watching for any sign of a relapse.

“I’m glad to hear that. I miss my time with him. By the way, John, did you ever get a chance to ask him about ‘E’?”

“Yes, I did, and he reacted in a strange way. I saw recognition in his eyes, but he shrugged off the question and changed the subject. I decided not to push it then, but if you want me to, I’ll broach the subject again.”

“Yes, John, I’d appreciate that.” Lying about his motivation, he added, “I think it may be important to his overall recovery. It may be an important link to his past.”

“Okay, I’ll try it again tomorrow morning. I’ll let you know immediately how it works out. It sure is comforting to see the progress he’s made so far.”

“Yes, it is. I appreciate everything you’re doing for him. I’ll wait to hear from you.” Adam sighed.
More waiting. Lately it seems that all I do is sit around and wait. I used to be the mover and shaker.
He looked up at the portrait of his grandfather.
When this is all over, there is going to be a metamorphosis. Adam Hampton III will once again be a force to contend with.

Chapter 32

The Assassin paced the floor as he waited for the phone to be picked up.

Finally, Neil Gilbert answered, “Neil, here.”

“Neil, why did you page me?”

“Well, there may be a problem. My hours have been cut while they’re training a new nurse.”

“Has that ever happened before?”

“It’s happened to me twice in the last three years. It usually lasts only a week.”

“What are your new hours?

“Monday, Wednesday and Friday from eight at night to six the next morning.”

“Before he had the seizure, did his son visit much with him at night?”

“I checked the logs, like you asked me to. About half the visits were at night, around eight o’clock. Right after his son finished his supper.”

“How does the old man look to you?”

“He’s much better than he was a week ago. I saw the report on the Doctor’s visit this afternoon. They think he’s almost recovered from the seizure. If that’s true, he should be able to have visitors again any day now.”

“Look, Neil, I need you to be vigilant. I don’t want to miss any opportunity to catch them together. Keep an eye on the appointment logs.”

“I know that it’s none of my business, but why is it so important for them to be together? Is it like you need to serve them both with a subpoena or something?”

“Something like that, but as you said, it is none of your business.”

“They have sleeping facilities right above the West Wing. I can stay here during my time off. That way I’ll know if there is any change in the visiting hours. I’ll call you the minute I know anything for sure.”

“See that you do. I’m paying you for results.”

The Assassin looked around the dingy room where he was holed up. It was this part of his work that he usually dreaded. Weeks, often months of preparations all hinged on last minute details that could ruin all his work; someone getting cold feet, bombs being discovered accidentally or the target never showing up. All of these had happened at one time or another over the thirty years he has been in the “business”. Only one had a bad ending and it cost him three hundred thousand dollars in out-of -pocket expenses and a black mark on his record that took five years to erase.

Chapter 33

Adam Hampton II sat alone in the library of the West Wing. He was experiencing a period of cerebral clarity. Scrambled circuits and a mix of medications made clear thinking difficult for the several years. It was now or never for the execution of his plan. Ever aware of the multiple monitors that observed and recorded his every activity, Adam II sat staring blankly at the rows of books on the far wall.
They can watch and listen all they want, but they can’t know what I’m thinking. They can’t know how much resentment I harbor over what has happened to me. I’ve been stripped of everything including my dignity by a son set on controlling Hampton Industries, at any price. I know I was sick for a while, but that happens to a lot of people. They take medicine for a while and then they get to feeling better, as I do now. I wasn’t even given that chance. Now I’m trapped in this prison with no way out. If I try to prove that I’m lucid, I know that my son will have them give me some pills that will permanently scramble my brain cells. Adam says he’s doing everything out of love, but I know that he really fears me. He’s so afraid of losing control of the Hampton estate. Look at how he’s reacting to the threat of a co-heir. He’s going bonkers with worry. If he only knew my little secret, if he only knew that I not only remember who “E” is but I know who his half-brother is as well. He’s fearful that someone will challenge his position as heir to the Hampton fortune and I’m fearful that another heir might muddy-up any chance that I have to reclaim what is rightfully mine. Somehow this will all play out. The better man will win and I intend to be that man.

I was known as a “Captain of Industry.” When my father killed himself, I took over the company immediately and grew Hampton Industries to new heights. We were one of the most well known companies in the world. My picture was on the covers of magazines. I don’t know what went wrong, maybe there’s something with the genes. My father must have been very depressed to take his own life. I remember saying goodbye to him the morning he shot himself. He appeared to be in good spirits.
 

What happened to me the day I lost it? Was it the same malady that suddenly struck me down, and why did I suddenly come out of the malaise, after two and a half years, only to discover that I was classified as too mentally ill to handle my own affairs? They try to keep me sedated. What are they so afraid of? Is my behaving rational that much of a threat to them? The joke’s on them, though, because even with all their surveillance they haven’t caught me tonguing my medicine. I can’t imagine how I would feel if I had swallowed all those pills. There must be a lot of tipsy rodents running around in Old Brookings’s sewers.

Adam entered a survivor
mode as he continued to plot.
So here I sit, staring at a fucking bookcase, instead of performing my duties as CEO of Hampton Industries, sitting here like a zombie instead of directing my company. Here I am, having to fake seizures in order to buy time. How long will it be before my son’s investigators find out who “E” is? I need to act before then; to divert them somehow. I know what I’ll do. I’ll make up a name and send them off in a false direction for a while. That will give me much needed time. They think they’re so smart, but I’ll have the last laugh. It’s amazing what you can get away with when you’re thought to be incompetent. There has to be a way for me to contact Nelson Platt. He was my attorney through all the tough years after my father died. Adam fired him, so I’m sure he isn’t in with them. I know he’d be an advocate for me if he knew I was being held here against my will. He could get me another competency hearing and I could reclaim what is rightfully mine. I’ve got to find a way to get the word out to him. The game is about to start and it isn’t going to be pretty.

His optimism took a sudden turn to despair as he thought,
Hell, I don’t even know if Nelson is still alive. He was in his early seventies when I knew him. Shit, I hate being like this; so totally out of control. This is like in the movie
Snakepit
. Maybe I’d be better off giving in and living out the rest of my days in here? It is cushy, it could be much worse. Or maybe I could save up the pills for and take a super dose.

Oh god, what am I thinking
.
I’m not going to let Adam win. Hell, he can’t even hold a candle to his half-brother. If only I could find a way to pit one against the other for control of the company. In the confusion that would follow, I’d have the opportunity to make contact with the outside world. Then I could turn the tables on both of them and reclaim the company as rightfully mine.
A faint undetectable smile appeared on his lips as he reflected on the scenario.
This is going to be the greatest challenge of my life. I’ve got to do something and this looks like the best time.

Adam Hampton II hatched an escape plan that would require an award winning performance on his part.
These fools want “E”, well I’ll give them what they want.
He pressed the button that summoned John. When John entered his room, the act began.

“John, the other day you asked me about “E”. I think I know how to find out who it is, but I will need to talk to my attorney, Nelson Platt. He knows things that no one else knows. Attorney privilege will prevent him from disclosing anything to anyone other than me, so I must have a private meeting with him. I’m sure that if I could have a few minutes with him we could clear up this “E” thing right away. Will you arrange it?”

John was quick to respond. This was the break they had been waiting for. “I will have to clear that with your son, but I don’t see why he would object. He seems a bit anxious to help you find out who “E” is.”

“Do the best you can, John. I want to help as much as I can.”