FICTION
A Man of Many Names — 4
A new home and business set up in Golden.
Photo by Brett Jordan on Unsplash
At nine in the morning, Griffin met with the real estate agent he had contacted before leaving Deer Crossing. The meeting place was at the entrance to an empty office space between a martial arts outlet and an Irish pub.
“Hmm,” commented Griffin as he wandered slowly through the barren, front office space, then into the larger supply room in the back, which in turn led to the main office which was also accessible by a back door.
“It does seem kind of okay. It would depend on how much the owner is asking for it,” Griffin said with his voice suggesting that he was doubtful of whether the place was suitable or not.
“Oh don’t you worry about costs,” offered the agent. “The owner is very reasonable, especially for dependable and upstanding clients. You did say you were an accountant, right?”
“Not just and accountant,” Griffin explained. “I am an economist. I help people with navigating the world of finance. You know, a wealth advisor. You can never get too much help when it comes to protecting your money.”
“And you do tax returns as well, I presume,” added the agent who didn’t appear to know the difference between an accountant and an economist.”
“Yes, sometimes I do tax returns as well,” Griffin acknowledged. “So, can you tell me how much the rent would be? I’d be willing to lease the place for at least five years to start with.”
The agent had a two-year lease in mind. Getting a five-year lease meant an even greater commission for him. The two men returned to the agent’s office to deal with the paper work. It didn’t take long for the documents to be signed and the keys handed over, especially since Griffin paid for a year’s rent in advance with postdated cheques.
Before leaving the agent, Griffin mentioned, “I’ll be moving my filing cabinets in next weekend. Could I trouble you to keep the keys until then? As well, could I have you oversee the delivery and setup of the new office furniture that I will have sent here? It would help considerably as I have a lot of other tasks needing my attention in Calgary during the week.”
Pausing to gauge if he should ask for more assistance. Seeing interest in the agent, he continued. “If I could, I would give them your number as my agent. Of course, I would pay for your time and assistance,” Griffin concluded as he presented the agent with an envelope with an additional several hundred dollars in cash.
“Of course, of course,” the middle-aged man replied with evident appreciation. “Anything you need, anything at all Mr. Long. Just ask. I’m your man.”
Griffin was satisfied with the office space. It was functional and not flashy, something that suit the image of a conservative financial manager. That identity was needed to be successful in his pursuit of becoming a politician. Saskatchewan was a conservative, rural population who disliked taxes and taxation. And they disliked politicians who wasted their tax dollars.
His next task was to arrange for painters to touch up the interior walls with neutral colours before functional and comfortable office furniture was to be delivered. Money well dispersed usually made things happen quicker than most people realised. Paying more than asked for by contractors always got the job put in the front of the queue.
With the office space taken care of, Griffin planned on checking out an acreage after a light lunch. There was a unpretentious acreage near Pine Lake that looked promising. If that one didn’t work out, a second acreage was a bit further out of the city just off highway 14. The photos for the first property seemed more promising. However, he had learned long, long ago never to depend on initial appearances.
A lunch of a light salad, chased with a cup of Earl Grey tea didn’t take long to disappear before Griffin found himself driving a short distance to the realtor’s office. Renting wasn’t to be considered when it came to picking out a place to live. He didn’t need to add a nosy landlord into the equation. Besides, putting down roots in the constituency would be seen favourably by the electorate when it came time to stand for the byelection yet to be called.
The property was as it had been described, with most of the five-acre plot being treed. The house was adequate, nothing very special about it other than it was livable and unoccupied. Griffin listened to the spiel given by the agent who recited a list of highlights about the acreage, the chief quality being that it wasn’t in the city.
It came as a surprise to her when Griffin interrupted her to declare that he would buy the house and property for the asking price. In a way, she was disappointed as the second acreage was the one she hoped to sell. The second property would give her a larger commission.
“Yes, Ms. Lawrence, this is the place I want. It reminds me of my grandfather’s place in North Dakota.”
“Are you sure? We could still check out the other property. I’m pretty sure that you’d fall in love with that place. After all, it has a larger and more modern house with all the bells and whistles.”
“I’m sure it does,” Griffin replied with a smile. “Still, this is the house I want. Let’s return to your office. I can pay for it today? Right? I will arrange for a bank draft to take care of the complete costs. I am hoping that you would assist me in taking care of getting the gas, power, and any other utility hookups completed. Of course, I would compensate you well for your help.”
Once the paperwork was completed, Griffin took one set of keys while leaving the second set with Ms. Lawrence who had agreed to be the caretaker of the place until Griffin could return. He gave her a thousand dollars to cover the reconnection costs with the rest of the money to be hers in thanks.
With a promise to return in two hours time with the bank draft, Griffin left her. Griffin had so entranced her that she didn’t think that since it was a Saturday, the banks wouldn’t be open.
There was no problem with getting a bank draft. Griffin simply filled one of the authentic looking bank drafts he had in his briefcase. He chose one from a Royal Bank of Canada as there was a local branch near the hotel he was staying in. He wasn’t stealing money. The paper trail would be completely in place before the bank opened its doors on Monday.
Waiting a suitable length of time, during which he went back to the acreage to set up a portal in the house, Griffin returned to the city and presented Ms. Lawrence with the cheque. It was time to head back to Deer Crossing.
Previously
For those who are following and reading the story, thank you!
BOFace, Jenine "Jeni" Baines, Robert, Keeley Schroder, Christopher Grant, Diana Meresc, Pat Romito LaPointe , and Afroditi Filippidi.
I would enjoy having more of you become part of my ARC team. The more eyes on a story, the better the final version will become when it is time to publish the story.