The Grosvenor Group's central office is located at 70 Grosvenor Street in London. It stands in the heart of the city, not far from Green Park and Hyde Park. Nearby are the Royal Theatre, the London Wax Museum, the Royal Academy of Arts, and Marble Arch. Big Ben is within walking distance.
The office occupies an entire four-story yellow-brick building dating back to the nineteenth century. The structure stretches for about fifteen meters and is flanked on both sides by adjoining four-story buildings: a beige one on the left and a white one on the right. Overall, it is a typical example of central London development, where three- to four-story buildings stand close together.
In front of the office runs a sidewalk, followed by a roadway, part of which is used as a parking area. A sign mounted on a steel pole indicates that only company vehicles are allowed to park there. Space is limited—room enough for only three cars.
The buildings on the opposite side of the street house the modern Sofia Art Gallery and the Gatehouse Bank.
Slightly to the right of the gallery is the Soho coffee shop. In front of its large, transparent street-facing window stand small tables for two. To avoid obstructing the sidewalk, there are even no umbrellas or awnings, and the tables and chairs huddle forlornly against the wall.
The building adjacent to the Grosvenor Group office, marked "69," is designed in a slightly different style. It has light beige walls, and its entrance door is concealed beneath a flat canopy supported by two round columns. A balcony runs along the entire length of the canopy at the level of the second floor. The building also has the same four floors, but unlike the rectangular windows of the office, the upper windows here are slightly rounded, giving them an arched appearance. This house is only ten meters long. In addition to sharing a wall with the office, it is connected by a parking space along the roadway, which continues the Grosvenor Group's parking area and can accommodate either two compact cars or one executive sedan. At the moment, a beige Bentley Eight was parked there.
In front of house number 69 on Grosvenor Street, about a meter and a half from the wall and directly beneath the balcony, stands a tall wrought-iron fence with a gate. The vertical steel bars nearly reach the underside of the balcony, which also serves as protection from rain and snow. Behind the fence, the upper part of a door leading to the basement is visible. And if one comes closer, it becomes clear that the gate opens onto a staircase descending underground.
At first glance, there seemed to be nothing particularly remarkable about this house. But Richard knew exactly what it was.
When his father told him about the family's real estate holdings, he had mentioned only estates and villas. Yet in addition to those, the Grosvenors owned many other properties. Among them was a modest five-hundred-square-meter house, basement included, located right next to the office.
It was perfectly logical that commuting daily to London from the estate near Chester was impractical. The journey took four hours each way, meaning an entire day would be lost to travel. It was another matter entirely to come to London on business from time to time, sort through accumulated paperwork, and spend two or three days in the "Spartan" conditions of a "small" city house.
And so Richie settled into his new place. He had already explored the entire house. He visited the basement, which could be accessed by a staircase inside the building. There was nothing unusual there—just a simple gym with a couple of exercise machines, a set of weights, wall bars, and some open space for gymnastics.
The first floor was equally unremarkable: an entrance hall with a small dressing room, a guest bathroom, a kitchen, and a dining room.
The second floor was more interesting. It featured a large living room with access to the balcony and floor-to-ceiling windows. There was also a bathroom and a small library.
The third floor housed the owner's private quarters. Gerald had a study, a spacious bedroom with an enormous dressing room, and a large private bathroom here.
On the fourth and top floor were three bedrooms. Richie settled into the largest of them, which had its own private bathroom. The other two rooms shared a bathroom and were intended for guests or servants. At present, one of the rooms was occupied by the young master's valet, John, and the other by an elderly woman—Jane Stein, the housekeeper responsible for maintaining the house.
Jane was about sixty years old. She hid her gray hair beneath a kerchief and dressed in a strict, dark-colored maid's uniform. She tried to remain inconspicuous, but the condition of the house and its immaculate cleanliness made it clear that she performed her duties well.
Mrs. Stein also prepared the meals. Naturally, her cooking could not compare to the masterpieces produced by the Duke of Westminster's personal chef, but Gerald had no intention of shuttling a cook back and forth. Everyone was satisfied with Jane's food, and in extreme cases, meals could always be ordered from a restaurant.
And so Richie, dressed in a dark gray suit and accompanied by his father, stepped out onto the street.
There were few pedestrians on the sidewalk.
Richard and Gerald walked seven meters before entering the Grosvenor Group office building through its transparent sliding doors.
The interior was richly decorated. The walls were painted a light beige, and the floors were laid with white marble tiles.
After climbing four steps, they saw a reception desk on the right. Behind it sat a security guard in a black uniform with a "Security" patch on his sleeve, as well as a pretty secretary who looked to be about twenty-five years old.
The young woman wore a gray pantsuit, and her black hair was styled in a modern fashion—lush, voluminous, and left loose.
(End of Chapter)
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