Roy Groves Thriller Box Set- The Complete Series Read online
Roy Groves Thriller Series
BOX SET
Ray Green
First Published in Great Britain by Mainsail Books in 2019
First Edition
Copyright © Ray Green 2019
Ray Green has asserted his right under the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988 to be identified as the author of this work.
This novel is a work of fiction. Names and characters are the product of the author’s imagination, unless otherwise stated, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise) without the prior written permission of the author, nor to be otherwise circulated in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published without a similar condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser. Any person who does any unauthorised act in relation to this publication may be liable to criminal prosecution and civil claims for damages.
ISBN 978-1-9999406-5-2
Published by Mainsail Books
www.mainsailbooks.co.uk
Contents
Buyout
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Payback
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Chapter 47
Chapter 48
Chapter 49
Chapter 50
Chapter 51
Chapter 52
Chapter 53
Chapter 54
Epilogue
Epilogue
Chinese Whispers
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Chapter 47
Chapter 48
Epilogue
Horizontal Living
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Chapter 47
Chapter 48
Chapter 49
Epilogue
Also by Ray Green
Buyout
A Roy Groves Thriller (Book 1)
By Ray Green
Prologue
On 16th December, 3.00 pm, they were all assembled in the large conference room at the London offices of Titanium Capital: the management buyout (MBO) team, Nathan Turnbull, bankers, accountants, lawyers, and a host of others whose function was not exactly clear – at least to the bemused MBO team. In all, there were twenty-seven people in that room. Five thousand miles away in Los Angeles, Jeff González and the Rothorpe Corporation team were connected by conference phone, e-mail and fax. This must be the real thing at last, supposed Roy.
During the next several hours, pile after pile of official-looking documents were brought into the room, and each of the MBO team was required to sign them. The last glimmers of daylight had long since disappeared as Roy contemplated the document in front of him, which must have comprised at least a hundred shee
ts of paper. He turned to the red-haired youth who had placed it on the table.
‘And what exactly is this one?’ asked Roy.
‘Oh, this is the package of covenants which you agreed with the bank,’ he replied. ‘Please sign quickly, as I have several more documents for you.’
Roy signed and passed it on to Steven. This was a surreal experience: they were all just signing piles and piles of papers, whose import was completely unknown to any of them. They just had to rely on the competence and integrity of their advisers.
Whilst the MBO team were busy dealing with the seemingly endless conveyor belt of papers, the whole room had become a hive of activity: phones were ringing; fax machines whirring; and everywhere, there were people hunched over laptops dealing with the mass of e-mails flying back and forth. The MBO team felt like passengers on a white-knuckle fairground ride, with no real understanding of the events unfolding around them, and certainly no control over what was happening.
At around 10 pm, someone brought in several very large pizzas in cardboard cartons, and a box full of cans of soft drinks. As this impromptu feast was distributed and consumed, it somehow made the whole scene even more surreal: everyone sought to continue working, in the midst of the increasingly chaotic setting, with discarded cartons, cans, and half-eaten segments of pizza adorning almost every horizontal surface.
Roy couldn’t help but smile as he observed Moray Ferguson, the lawyer, attempting to eat a slice of pizza, which he held in his left hand, whilst typing awkwardly, single handed, with his right. As Moray stared intently at his screen, the pizza gradually wilted, until eventually a gooey blob of cheese, with a piece of red pepper attached, fell onto his keyboard. Moray uttered a fearsome-sounding curse which Roy had not heard before – he supposed it must be of Scottish origin. The oath was delivered at such a volume that the general hubbub in the room stopped abruptly as everyone turned to see what had happened. At the sight of Moray trying to scoop the sticky mess off his keyboard using a ruler, the room erupted into laughter; it was a welcome break in the tense atmosphere. The break was short lived, though, as everyone quickly resumed their activities and, within a minute, the place was buzzing once more.
And then, abruptly, at around 1.30 am, everything seemed to grind to a halt: the phones, the fax machines, the emails; everything fell silent. Nathan tried to get in contact with Jeff González to find out what was causing the delay, but all of a sudden, González was ‘unavailable’. This didn’t sound good. Nathan and several of the others left the room, leaving everyone else more or less kicking their heels.
Roy felt a sickening sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach; all the optimism and euphoria he had felt a few hours earlier had now evaporated. He feared the worst: that Rothorpe Corporation was going to renege on the deal at the last moment. He knew that if the buyout failed, around three hundred people would lose their jobs – and he would be one of them. Furthermore, he would have to pay back the £100,000 he had borrowed to finance his stake in the deal.
***
For Mick McNulty, the situation was even worse. He had already lost his job, and he was in debt to the tune of £200,000. If the deal failed now, after everything he and Carmen had been through, it could spell the end of his marriage, which was already hanging by a thread.
There was nothing that any of them could do now but wait.
Chapter 1
Two years earlier
It was 6.30 am on a chilly October morning. Roy Groves was driving to work as usual, except this wasn’t usual, for today he was expecting a visit from his boss, Joe Haven, and Joe’s boss, Jack Watkins. He had heard, only yesterday, that they were coming over from America. There had been no explanation of the reason for the visit.
As he prepared to make a turn, Roy looked in his rear-view mirror and caught a glimpse of his own reflection. His face – framed by brown hair cut neat and short – featured well-defined cheekbones, a strong, straight nose, and penetrating, deep brown eyes. Today, he looked tense: his brow was furrowed, and his mouth set in a grim straight line. God, am I really only forty-five? he thought, as he contemplated his reflection.
Roy had chosen to take a route through some of the quiet country lanes, rather than the slightly faster route along the main roads, to give himself a little time to think. He had taken the job as Managing Director of Transatlantic Instruments just over two years ago. The company, which designed and manufactured industrial instrumentation, had not been in great shape, financially, but Roy was confident that, given time, he could turn it around, and so it had proved, though it had not been easy. He had had to reduce costs, modernise working practices, and launch an urgent program of new product development. It was, however, paying off: the previously loss-making operation was at last making modest profits, and sales were increasing. Unfortunately, the American parent company, Transatlantic Corporation had not made comparable progress. In fact, it had nearly gone bust, before finally being bought by a rival American group, Genesis Corporation, some three months ago. So what was the reason for this unexpected visit from his new masters?
Suddenly, a fox darted across the road, jolting Roy from his thoughts and causing him to brake sharply. As the little creature bounded off into the trees, Roy took a moment to regard his surroundings. It was a lovely autumnal morning: the sun was just rising, imparting a golden glow to the mist which was still hanging over the fields to the right of the gently twisting lane along which Roy was driving. This was, truly, a delightful piece of countryside, and yet just a few miles from the teeming metropolis that was Birmingham: a hub of UK Manufacturing industry, and the thing which had lured Roy and his family here.
When he swung into the factory car park at 7.30 am, he was surprised to see a black Mercedes parked in one of the visitor’s parking spaces; they were already here.
Sure enough, as Roy walked into his office, they were both there, waiting for him. Jack Watkins was a tall, thin-faced man with a sallow complexion and a seemingly permanent scowl. He had a reputation as a totally ruthless bastard. Joe Haven, Roy’s immediate boss, was Jack’s protégé. He was barely thirty-two years old, but clearly being groomed for stardom in the Genesis empire. Joe, too, was tall and thin – almost like a younger version of Jack – but in place of the grey hair and gnarled visage, were a fresh, boyish face, and thick, dark hair. Their conversation stopped abruptly as Roy entered the room.
Jack Watkins uttered the first words. ‘Hello Roy. Good to see you again.’
A strange turn of phrase, thought Roy, since they had only ever conversed before by telephone or video conference.
‘Joe has some important information for you’.
Joe began, ‘One of the reasons we bought Transatlantic Instruments was to realise potential opportunities for consolidation of similar operating units to reduce costs and streamline operations.’
Roy noticed that beads of perspiration had appeared on Joe’s upper lip as he continued, ‘As you are aware, we already have a UK instrument company, based in Manchester, which is in the same market space as Transatlantic Instruments.’
Suddenly, Roy realised where this was going: they are going to fire me. He was no longer listening to a word that Joe was saying. I’ve moved my family, worked all the hours God sent, turned a failing company around; and now they are going to fire me! His mind tried to grapple with the implications of this bombshell. How would he break the news to Donna and the girls? How quickly would he be able to find another job? Would they have to move house again? It was all just too much to take in.
Suddenly he was jolted out of his trance by the sound of the 8 am factory bell. Joe must have been talking for over fifteen minutes, but Roy had not heard a word.
‘... and so, we have determined that the two companies should merge. The merged company will be run by Chuck Dyers, currently Managing Director of the Manchester operation. Unfortunately, therefore, we have to let you go.’
Roy felt numb. He had known that this could happen at any time, but even so
, it hit him like a pile driver. He had never once before in his life been fired and had always clung to the belief that it never does happen to people who really perform – and Roy felt he had. This just isn’t fair, he thought.
Joe was now going through the details of Roy’s pay-off. They were going to pay him the absolute minimum which they were legally obliged to: not a penny extra in recognition of what he had achieved. As Roy gathered his things and headed for the door, Jack Watkins finally spoke, for the first time in the last thirty minutes.
‘Thanks for all your hard work. It’s been a pleasure to work with you. Good luck for the future.’
For the first time that morning, Roy felt real anger. He turned to reply but, realising the futility of giving voice to his feelings, he stifled the instinct. He stared at Jack for two or three seconds and then left, without saying a word.
***
Six weeks later, Roy was at home, sitting at his computer, completing yet another job application. His wife, Donna, a part-time English teacher, was at work; his daughters, Beatrice and Raquel, were away at University. Roy stuck a stamp on the envelope and leaned back in his chair, thoughtful and reflective.
Roy’s father, George – now eighty-two, and in poor health – seemed to have taken the news hard. George had been in the Police force for all his working life and hailed from a time when a ‘job for life’ was a natural aspiration. When Roy had secured a place at University at age eighteen – something no-one else in the family had ever done – George urged him to pursue a career in one of the ‘professions’: Law or Medicine, perhaps. When Roy said he wanted to be an engineer and work in manufacturing industry, George could not conceal his disappointment, even though he never openly expressed any disapproval. Ever since then, Roy had somehow felt that he had to prove himself, and even after he had risen to the position of Managing Director at Transatlantic Instruments, he could not entirely shake off the sense that he was somehow a disappointment to his father.
When he saw the sadness and disappointment in his father’s face upon hearing the news of his redundancy, all of these feelings came swirling to the surface, fresh and raw.
Donna, however, had been amazing. When Roy broke the news, she simply said, ‘Well, we knew this could happen, so let’s just deal with it’.
And so they did: they worked out how long Roy’s pay-off would last and then decided what economies they could make. Donna said she would talk to her Headmaster to see whether she could go full-time to earn some extra money.
‘If we’re careful,’ she said, ‘we should be able to eke things out quite a bit longer. I’m sure it won’t take you too long to find another job.’ Roy hoped she was right. Donna and Roy cancelled their forthcoming Caribbean holiday, cancelled their subscriptions to various clubs, and agreed that eating out was now for special occasions only. The school where Donna worked was unable to offer her a full-time post, but she managed to find a second job, working from home, doing telephone market research.
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