Threadneedle Street. The contrast between the tunnels of the underground and the Wren styled buildings could hardly have been more pronounced; their very fabric radiated power. By keeping Mansion House across the road to her left and the Bank of England to her right, she turned right into Threadneedle Street and right again into the Change Alley complex.
Britain at the height of empire, ruled the world from this corner of London and even today, no other location offers quite the same blend of wealth, history, solidity and stability. The wealth of its buildings, is echoed by the bustle of bowler-hatted bankers, rushing through the city streets that comprise the square mile of the City of London.
The alley itself seems little more than a service corridor in comparison to its noble neighbors, but in fact contains the offices of many companies in the City. Sam had chosen the location well - the affluence of the area and the atmosphere it generated were the most important assets they could have possibly have wished for, for their scheme to work. Everything looked and felt right! The building which housed their office was as anonymous as the others which surrounded it and was clad with the same, nondescript, off-white tiles.
Pascoe had last visited the office two days previously, dressed in workers' overalls and with the aid of a battery-powered electric drill, had screwed an aluminum name plate, bearing the name of DALLASBANK, to the wall outside the main entrance. The name-plate rested snug, beneath the escutcheons of three firms of chartered accountants, two stock-brokers and a solitary legal adviser. It was in good, solid and respectable company!
The office was located on the first floor of the building, close enough to the ground-floor entrance to be able to use the stairs. Its door was secured with Chubb locks and was also equipped with an electrically controlled master lock, operated in conjunction with a voice box. Pascoe had fixed a second name plate on the door to make the office look completely authentic.
Immediately inside was a small ante-room, with a separate toilet. The door facing the main door led to the inner sanctum, the room which was to be center stage for the next few days, looked professional. The premises, though sparsely furnished, had been well chosen and were ideally suited to their purpose.
The inner office was dominated by an immense walnut desk, its top inlaid with maroon, gold-tooled leather. The chairs around it matched perfectly as did the floor covering of Heugafelt carpet tiles. Sam had hung a few of her own pictures around the walls of the inner sanctum and placed a few of her knick-knacks on the desk to personalize the place and create a little character. The desk diary, pen stand, blotter and calendar were also hers, and they gave the place soul.
Chapter 8
Change Alley
If there were any criticism of the room's appearance, it would be of the one classless item in the office which neither blended in with nor complimented the overall quality of the room; a grey, lifeless, three-drawer steel filing cabinet, placed near the window to the left of the desk. Even the safe, tucked away in the opposite corner to the filing cabinet, had more character; its antique dials drew attention to it and it was a superb example of Victorian security.
The outer office was an altogether less elaborate affair, with its walls lined with chairs and a small desk placed across its interior corner. It resembled nothing if not a doctor's waiting room. Nevertheless, from the strategically placed desk, an efficient secretary could control all the comings and goings from both offices. The controls for the voice box and the electric door-lock were operable from either office desk, which gave them a certain freedom of movement in which to work. Clients could be admitted one at a time and seated comfortably in the ante-room until Pascoe and Sam were ready to receive them inside their main office. It had cost a small
Britain at the height of empire, ruled the world from this corner of London and even today, no other location offers quite the same blend of wealth, history, solidity and stability. The wealth of its buildings, is echoed by the bustle of bowler-hatted bankers, rushing through the city streets that comprise the square mile of the City of London.
The alley itself seems little more than a service corridor in comparison to its noble neighbors, but in fact contains the offices of many companies in the City. Sam had chosen the location well - the affluence of the area and the atmosphere it generated were the most important assets they could have possibly have wished for, for their scheme to work. Everything looked and felt right! The building which housed their office was as anonymous as the others which surrounded it and was clad with the same, nondescript, off-white tiles.
Pascoe had last visited the office two days previously, dressed in workers' overalls and with the aid of a battery-powered electric drill, had screwed an aluminum name plate, bearing the name of DALLASBANK, to the wall outside the main entrance. The name-plate rested snug, beneath the escutcheons of three firms of chartered accountants, two stock-brokers and a solitary legal adviser. It was in good, solid and respectable company!
The office was located on the first floor of the building, close enough to the ground-floor entrance to be able to use the stairs. Its door was secured with Chubb locks and was also equipped with an electrically controlled master lock, operated in conjunction with a voice box. Pascoe had fixed a second name plate on the door to make the office look completely authentic.
Immediately inside was a small ante-room, with a separate toilet. The door facing the main door led to the inner sanctum, the room which was to be center stage for the next few days, looked professional. The premises, though sparsely furnished, had been well chosen and were ideally suited to their purpose.
The inner office was dominated by an immense walnut desk, its top inlaid with maroon, gold-tooled leather. The chairs around it matched perfectly as did the floor covering of Heugafelt carpet tiles. Sam had hung a few of her own pictures around the walls of the inner sanctum and placed a few of her knick-knacks on the desk to personalize the place and create a little character. The desk diary, pen stand, blotter and calendar were also hers, and they gave the place soul.
Chapter 8
Change Alley
If there were any criticism of the room's appearance, it would be of the one classless item in the office which neither blended in with nor complimented the overall quality of the room; a grey, lifeless, three-drawer steel filing cabinet, placed near the window to the left of the desk. Even the safe, tucked away in the opposite corner to the filing cabinet, had more character; its antique dials drew attention to it and it was a superb example of Victorian security.
The outer office was an altogether less elaborate affair, with its walls lined with chairs and a small desk placed across its interior corner. It resembled nothing if not a doctor's waiting room. Nevertheless, from the strategically placed desk, an efficient secretary could control all the comings and goings from both offices. The controls for the voice box and the electric door-lock were operable from either office desk, which gave them a certain freedom of movement in which to work. Clients could be admitted one at a time and seated comfortably in the ante-room until Pascoe and Sam were ready to receive them inside their main office. It had cost a small
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