The Inspector Walter Darriteau Murder Mysteries - Books 1-4 by David Carter (best finance books of all time .txt) 📕

Hector, and he resumed wading through reams of paper of electronics businesses based in the area.

IN THE ELLIE NAPOLEON Center things were hotting up. The crowd were being ushered through to the theatre/presentation centre in spoke 5. The sense of anticipation was palpable. It had been widely trailed that Kit was about to make some momentous announcement about the launching of the new and much anticipated sixth level, and everyone was keen to get a first heads-up on that.

The theatre housed five hundred people, it wasn’t large, but it was beautiful, and every seat had been specifically allocated to a guest. The auditorium was circular, and the theatre was close to being a theatre in the round. The seats were that same pastel green, comfy looking and steeply banked, so that everyone had a great view. The stage was not large; this was not a theatre for concerts and orchestras and dance troops, but for gurus and experts and teachers and instructors and trainers, where they could hold court and gaze up at their adoring audience, and do their stuff and preach their gospels.

Karen and Greg’s seats were on the highest level, the very back row, in the centre, but that was no bad thing, for the view from there was fab. They stood before their seats and looked about and admired the view, said ‘Hi’ to their immediate neighbours, some of whom Greg vaguely knew. He introduced them to Karen and then they settled into their seats and studied their programmes.

‘I suppose you’re feeling very chuffed with yourself,’ said Greg.

‘Why’s that?’ she said, leaning closer to him.

‘Well, everyone else here is a level fiver... and you’re not.’

Karen pulled a face, shrugged her shoulders. Didn’t really bother her. She paused and said, ‘Is that right, everyone else here a level fiver?’

‘Yep. Every last one.’

‘So why am I here?’

‘Dunno. Kit must really like you.’

‘He wants to see me at six.’

‘I know. So you said. Just make sure he keeps his hands to himself.’

Karen pulled another face and sniffed into a paper hanky.

‘He’s not a wandering hands man, is he?’

‘Not that I know of.’

‘I wonder what he wants.’

‘No idea, but you’ll have to go,’ and as she was thinking about that, a neat young guy came out on to the stage and smiled at the audience and began cajoling them.

‘He’s the warm-up man,’ explained Greg. ‘He’s good too,’ revelling in his position of been-there done-that knowledge of previous meets.

Karen glanced into Greg’s eyes. If she didn’t know better she thought she detected some of the sparkle from Kit’s eyes had transferred to his. Seemed an odd thing, and then she started thinking of Kit again, and wondered what exactly it was he wanted to talk about, and though the highly rated warm-up man was telling his topical jokes, not dirty, that would not have gone down well at all, but funny for sure, judging by the applause that rained down from the banked seats, she wasn’t really listening, as he fell silent, pausing for effect, as he presented the mic to his mouth, but didn’t say a word, and repeated the trick a couple of times, so that everyone was fully aware that he was about to say something meaningful, and he really was a master of his craft, for the place had fallen deathly silent, and the guy was speaking softly, and not a soul was thinking of a single thing, other than the slow and careful and supposedly meaningful words that tripped from his neat lips.

‘Normally at this point,’ he said, gently, yet Greg and Karen at the very back could hear every single word, the acoustics had been tried and tested and were brilliant, ‘normally at this juncture, I would have the great pleasure to introduce the man himself, our great friend and founder, Kit Napoleon, but today, seeing as it is a very special occasion, I am going to introduce you to someone else, and in due course we’ll let him introduce the chief, and one of the reasons I am bringing on this guy is because I am sure that you would all like to know that he is the very first person, the very first, a true pioneer, if you will, to acquire level six status.’

That stirred the crowd and someone yelled Woo Hoo and that brought forth laughter, but already the compere was talking again, ‘He’s known to many of you already, a friend to many here too, he is the one and only and highly successful... Donald Rushnell!!!’

Everyone stood up.

The applause was deafening.

Greg and Karen stood too.

‘Woo hoo!’ yelled Greg, catching the drift, American style applause.

Karen’s mouth fell open.

She managed to say, ‘You know Donald?’

‘Course! He introduced me in the first place. He’s my sponsor. Met him at the hospital when he came in with a broken arm. I owe him everything. I am so thankful he came in that day. No broken arm, no nothing, for me. He sponsored many of the people here. Lots of them owe him a lot. He’s a legend, is Donald.’

Reality bit.

‘But... he’s a wanted criminal!’

‘What?’

‘You heard me! He’s a wanted man,’ but her words were drowned by the applause, and then Donald was speaking, talking about how much he owed to Future Growth and to Kit Napoleon personally, how he had saved him from a wretched life, how he had boosted his self esteem and made him what he was today, and how he had known Ellie Napoleon too, and how he had watched her sink from being a vibrant and beautiful woman into, well he didn’t like to say any more on that subject, and everyone fell silent and sincere, and then he was talking again about this wonderful new Center, and of how it was a testament to her great courage, and how it would help many people who are and were going through the same terrible traumas that she did, and Donald prayed that they might show the same raw courage that