Herbert Gordon

Chapter (∑(2)) - Friday the 13th

After his run, Herbert showered and dressed in his usual, careful manner. He ate his breakfast methodically, climbed into his car, and arrived at the train station precisely when he meant to. His train arrived on time, and he walked into the office as early as usual. If he’d been paying closer attention, he would have noticed Jennifer didn’t greet him in her usual manner. He might have wondered why. He might have asked her, and she might have told him two managers were in his office. But he didn’t so she didn’t so he walked in and stopped in something approaching mild surprise.

He wasn’t certain what their names were. He’d never spoken to them before, only seen them from time to time. He’d been around longer than either. This was quite apparent in their faces. They looked a bit nervous, which is a strange thing for a manager to be. Herbert was simply annoyed. He knew this was not him being fired or made redundant or any other such silly nonsense. He looked at them for a simple second, then walked slowly past them, ignoring their fakely faltering smiles as he hung his jacket upon the wall and took a seat. He looked at them expectantly.

They were sweating. They were both young, mid 20’s and inflated with their success. They were fairly good looking. They dressed similarly, dark jackets over dark pants with ties and white shirts. None of this registered to Herbert, they were already being dismissed from his mind. If he had been forced to pay attention, he’d say one was blonde with green eyes, the other brown with brown. They were similar heights, though the blonde was an inch shorter. He may have remembered that he was Peter, and the other was Mark.

Peter opened his mouth first. “Hello Herbert, we’re sorry to drop in on you like this, but we really wanted to commend you on your work over the last few years. You’ve done a truly terrific job, and everyone has only good things to say about you.”

Herbert said nothing. He had an idle thought about where this was going, but he ignored it as normal.

Mark continued. “Yes, we’re very proud of you, and your level of commitment is what we want to see in this company. We wanted to tell you about a new client we’ve just taken on, and see what you think?”

Herbert remained as before. A slight despair began to overwhelm him, but he doused it immediately.

“He’s a high profile case. He lives alone just outside of Huntly in a large property. He’s quite old, and is needing someone to sort out his accounts. He used to own an accounting firm but…” For a man like Herbert, zoning out was not an option. He had nothing to distract himself with. He patiently waited for Mark to finish, murdering thoughts as they arose. Peter watched him intently. He didn’t like Herbert, found him to be deathly boring. The man had stayed in the same job for over 15 years, what was wrong with him? Yes he did it perfectly, but what was the point? He waited till Peter paused to take a breath and smoothly stepped in.

“What we really want to know is whether you’d take on his case. He refuses to have his accounts done anywhere but at his place, so we’ll have to accommodate his wishes. You’ll be required to go there every Friday for a couple of hours – of course, we’ll provide you with a company car for these trips. We think you’re the best person for the job because of your commitment to the work and your excellent record. So will you do it?”

A small part of Herbert vaguely admired the man for his careful phrasing. “Ok, what is the address?” was all he said. Both managers sighed quietly, their shoulders slumping. They quickly told him the address, told him which car he was to take, and left, almost at a run.

If you’d stopped either and asked them what their smiles were for, they’d have been unable to answer. It may have been they were glad to have sorted it out so easily. It may have been that they were happy they’d sorted out their richest customer. Or it may have been they were glad to be away from those bored blue eyes.

A few moments after they’d left, Herbert stood. He calmly collected his jacket and walked slowly from the office. Jennifer threw him a casual smile, he ignored it from habit. He walked through the offices that lay between him and the lifts before descending to the garage. An attendant was stationed there to monitor the company cars and provide a hint of security. She strode importantly up to Herbert and passed him his keys with a proud “your keys, sir”. He merely grunted and made his careful way to a dark blue BMW. If he was the sort of man who had any knowledge of cars, he’d have been excited by the model. But he didn’t, and so he wasn’t.

He typed the address into the GPS, having an uncanny ability to quickly find and use most new technology. It told him the trip would take 36 minutes. He started the car, and drove it calmly out onto the street. For most people, something would have happened. They’d have smiled at having paid time off to drive a little way down the country. It was a truly gorgeous day for winter, the sun laughing at the prediction of rain and bad luck. Most people would have sung, or revved the engine, or been in any way a little exuberant. Herbert frowned his way up the street, he shuffled onto State Highway 1 and unconcernedly settled into the left lane at whatever speed the car in front of him held.

It was a completely event-less trip. Nothing caused him any concerns. The directions were simple to follow. It took him 40 minutes to get there, an ideal indication of the optimism of the GPS. He rolled slowly over a stone-covered driveway, the wheels crunching their way along.

The house was suitably impressive. He’d entered between two unadorned stone pillars. On either side of the drive, flat verdant lawns stretched their way toward carefully pruned gardens and toweringly gentle trees. Further up the drive sat a water fountain, creating a roundabout before the house, if it could be called a house. It was more a mansion. Wide stone stairs led up to two huge oaken doors that sat in the centre of a forebodingly beautiful stone façade. A few windows broke the harsh regularity of the dark stone, and in each a well-loved room peaked around the curtains. He parked the BMW carefully next to a pride of classic cars. Some people would have been suitably impressed by the display. Herbert was no one.

He clambered from the car and walked up the stairs. A butler of some description met him at the door. “Herbert Gordon I presume?” he chimed. Herbert grunted acknowledgement. “Follow me please sir. I trust your trip was alright?” Another grunt. He tactfully said nothing more, instead leading Herbert quickly through the house. Herbert threw no casual glances around. If he had, he might have caught sight of an opulence that could have impressed him. It was unlikely though. He walked through two rooms. The first was undoubtedly the entrance hall, marked by the simple homeliness of the area and the proximity to the main entrance. The second was a dining area and was dominated by a huge, polished table. It was dark and had 17 identically dark seats placed equally about it. The floor was a light wood that tapped gently against the soles of their feet. The walls drew attention. The one was dominated by a giant fireplace, large enough to warm the entire table if required. The wall about it was panelled carefully. The opposite wall was a feature wall. It was painted to look exactly like the view outside. This coupled with the 2 large windows gave the impression of the room being completely open to the elements.

The third room was very different, yet still extravagant. It was carpeted lusciously, the sort your feet sink into without leaving you uncomfortable. There was a soft light emitting from the roof. It seemed to come from above the ceiling. In fact, it was a powerful light behind a false ceiling, allowing a gentle but strong glow to permeate the room. In the centre of the room were a table and two comfortable chairs. Down the far side of the room was a window seat, with a huge one way window looking out over a picturesque view. Apart from this window, every wall was covered with bookshelves, which were stacked neat but tightly with a seemingly endless amount of books. The ceiling was high, and the shelves stretched to the top. A rough estimate would put the number of books in the region of 7-8 000; the actual number hovered around the 10 000 region. This discrepancy was caused by the fact that some shelves had two layers of books, with one hidden by the other.

Herbert gave the barest recognition of the amount of books that surrounded him. He looked at the butler expectantly. The butler gave him an apologetic smile. “I’m sorry, but the master is busy right now. He’s aware that you’re here, and he will be with you shortly. If you need anything at any point before then, simply ring the bell and I’ll be right through.” “Can you not simply give me the records and I start working?” Herbert asked. The butler laughed gently “Unfortunately, that won’t be possible, he insists on being present when his accounts are done. He won’t be too long, browse the books if you want, no one will mind.” With that, he placed a small bell on a shelf, walked out the door, threw a casual smile over his shoulder and closed the door.