The Immortality Plot

The Immortality Plot - chapter 25

The Harvard Club of New York City is located on West 44th Street between Fifth Avenue and Sixth Avenue, the Avenue of the Americas.

Architecturally, the main Harvard Hall inside the building is thought to be the finest clubroom in the western hemisphere, if not the world. With its three-storey high ceiling and rich, dark panelling, it is regarded by alumni and guests alike as a magical place. Besides Harvard Hall, in 1905 additions to the building contained a grill room, a new library, meeting rooms, a billiard room, and two floors of bedrooms. There were now three dining rooms, bars, seven banqueting rooms and the Gordon Reading Room.

It is a haven of Harvardiana and one of a network of such university clubs throughout America and various parts of the world. It was the perfect setting, thought Delaney, for a ‘get-your-ass-in-gear’ conference designed to convince everyone who attended that they too could be wealthy. All they had to do was learn the secrets of the rich and successful and they would leave the world of the hoi polloi behind.

‘The Success Gene’ seminar was being held in one of the banqueting rooms, opposite the library and close to the Gordon Reading Room. Delaney and Ryan joined a throng of would-be entrepreneurs lured by the location and by the reputation of their host, Craig Martin. Delaney spotted a sanguine Lester Draper of Future World lurking on the fringes, no doubt protecting his investment and, Delaney realized, the only one here that could recognize him.

He muttered to Grace Ryan by his side. “Don’t look as if you are with me. Make like we’ve just met. Trust me.” Ryan was smart enough to respond immediately and without question. She moved imperceptibly away from Delaney and gazed at the impressive wood panelling, glorious staircase and resplendent paintings and portraits. She glanced up at Delaney, making the kind of small talk delegates normally did on these occasions.

“Hi,” she said. “Did you go to Harvard or are you just tempted by the dream?”

“No,” he said, glancing at the brochure he picked up on the way in. “I’ve heard Craig Martin has his finger on the pulse. I’ve come with an open mind.” He smiled at her distantly and she looked away and smiled at the woman by her side. The woman smiled back. She looked a little out of place at such an event, thought Ryan, but she was curiously attractive with a hint of the Eurasian in her strong features.

She was tall and powerfully built, taller and bigger than Ryan, and her hair was newly styled, dark and elegant, sweeping down over her lustrous oval eyes. It could almost be a wig, thought the lawyer, but if it is, it’s the best she’d ever seen. The tall woman was wearing a little too much make-up for Ryan’s liking but her clothes were to die for. They were top-of-the-range couture – a recognizable Giovanni Batista dress in dark blue organdy with pale orange collar and cuffs. It was set off by a sleek and glitzy belt and she completed her look with a silk and satin scarf casually draped around her broad shoulders from which dangled a Gucci Raven’s feather handbag. The effect of the ensemble was to make her look slimmer and smaller than she obviously was. Ryan was suddenly and unaccountably filled with envy. If she can afford to dress like that what is she doing here, Ryan thought? The woman smiled and Ryan was immediately beguiled. There was something about her, something incandescent but secretive and captivating, as if she was a celebrity slumming it with ordinary mortals.

“Hello,” she said and her voice was low and slightly husky. “I’m Chantelle Dubois.”

“Grace Ryan,” said Ryan. “Are you looking forward to the seminar?”

“Oh yes,” murmured Chantelle. “I believe it is going to be quite revealing.” She glanced over at Delaney who had noticed her out of the corner of his eye but not turned to look or react. “Have you come with him?”