‘Of course… that’s fine.’
‘I’m glad.’ He smiled again. ‘Is Dean Walker around?’
‘Yes, I think so.’ She looked at her computer screen. ‘Would you like me to buzz him?’
‘No need. Room Seven, isn’t it?’ He started walking.
‘Yes, that’s right.’
‘Thank you.’ He waved a hand and headed down the corridor.
‘Good morning, Mr Drummond,’ a young man greeted him as he passed.
‘Good morning,’ he responded.
He didn’t recognise any of these people. Now the company had grown to this level, it was impossible for him to sit in on all interviews. But should he know more than he did? Should his employees be more than names on a computer system and faces he didn’t know?
He stopped. ‘Hey,’ he called to the man passing him.
The employee stopped in his tracks and turned to face Oliver. He noted he was already looking concerned.
‘What’s your name?’ Oliver asked.
‘Milo Rodriguez, sir.’
Oliver nodded then held out his hand. ‘Good,’ he said as Miloconnected the handshake. ‘Well, I’m Oliver and it’s nice to meet you.’
‘You too, sir.’ The guy seemed completely bewildered.
Oliver broke the connection and headed back down the corridor. It was time to stop being the soulless man at the top and start being someone people liked a little. He only hoped it wasn’t too late.
Tilton Gallery, 8 East 76 Street
‘Is this it?’ Angel asked.
They were stood outside a cream-coloured building that looked more like a townhouse than a gallery. Its towering height only emphasised its lack of width and, if it hadn’t been for the Parthenon-style pillars at its entrance, it would have passed for nothing out of the ordinary.
‘I guess it is,’ Hayley said, looking at the building. She had never been here before but this was another of the places her diary had confirmed Michel had talked about. He had had an exhibition of his work here. He had sold a few pieces. She remembered he’d been excited about it.
‘Are we going in?’ Angel asked.
Hayley nodded. That’s what they were here for, but she was still filled with so much trepidation. Would it be another dead end or would luck be on their side this time?
‘I should have brought the photo,’ Hayley cursed. ‘Why didn’t I bring the photo?’
Angel took hold of Hayley’s hand. ‘It doesn’t matter, Mum. If he had an exhibition here, there will be a record of it, won’t there?’
If he had been telling the truth. That always crossed her mind too.What if he wasn’t an artist? That would explain the lack of artists called Michel De Vos on Google and the fact none of the galleries had come up with anything so far. He could have been a hot-dog vendor and she wouldn’t have known any different.
She smiled at Angel before any of her thoughts seeped out into her expression. ‘Yes, there will. Let’s go in.’ She led the way up the steps.
Drummond Global Offices, Downtown Manhattan
This was the hub of the company, its engine and driving force. This was where ideas were created, world-changing pieces of equipment were devised, revolutionary gadgetry that had the ability to make a real difference to people’s lives.
Oliver stood in the doorway of the room and just watched the employees at work. The smell of electronics took him right the way back to the garage and workshop in Westchester. His father had worked late into the night in the early days, a soldering iron never far from his hand, working diligently, every tiny section of each component nurtured by his hands. Then later, Oliver had watched Ben working with him too. Ben was always given the first opportunities because he was older. But his outstanding capabilities had also made him the first port of call even when age no longer counted. Still a little jealousy mixed in with the grief no matter how hard he tried to ignore it.
His presence was noticed by Peter Lamont, the head of the department, and the man cleared his throat loudly, making everyone stop what they were doing. It almost looked like they were going to stand to attention and salute. Oliver stepped into the room.
