Saturday, 1 November, 1800, 12:01 a.m. the house in the Alps ".....we closed the factory in Vienna and reopened it in Geneva. All your funds are in this country to begin with, so there should be no lack of resources. And that's the end of the report." Richard snapped his notebook shut, quite pleased with himself. "And here we are." he added, mentally complimenting himself on his impeccable timing. "Ms. Pederston?" Carleigh Pederston was gazing out the opposite window. The sound of her name brought her back to reality. "Hm? Oh, I'm sorry Richard. You say we have enough money here?" The old ghoul flustered a bit. "Well, yes, but I also said-" "Fine then. That's all that matters." Carleigh smoothed down her french braided hair and checked her rouge in a hand mirror. "How many times must I tell you, Richard? As long as we have the money, everything else will take care of itself." she waved her right hand dissmissively. "You really must pay more attention." Richard's speechlessness was covered by the door on Carleigh's side of the carriage being opened by another ghoul. The Ventrue ancillae slid out of her seat, barely concealing a grin. Showing self-important ghouls their place was always an enjoyable pastime. That was the trouble with keeping ghouls for several centuries. It was so hard to control a servant who was older than she was. Not that she wasn't up to the challenge, mind you. But the fact remained that retainers should be either Embraced or destroyed after about eighty years. That was just all there was to it. The trouble of training a new one was so much more attractive then the prospect of dealing with one who assumed he knew everything about his job. One like Richard. Carleigh whipped a small black notebook and a pencil out of her purse. Flipping to a new page, she wrote in refined script a reminder to call her sire and ask him to eliminate Richard. Surely there were other decent ghouls about. "Will there be anything else, Ms. Pederston?" Richard's voice came from the other side of the carriage. Carleigh placed her notebook back in her purse and turned to face him. "No, thank you Richard. You need not stay in the country. Any further reports I make on this situation will be made directly to my sire. You may return to New York." Ignoring the poorly concealed insult, Richard bowed stiffly and climbed back into the carriage. The driver, who had opened the door for Carleigh, had already returned to his place. The luxurious black carriage sped off as Carleigh ascended the front steps of the house. The building itself had a great deal of old world charm, at least in Carleigh's opinion. It looked very much like one of the country manors she had seen on her last tour of England's lake country. The setting, however.... All those lovely old manors had been situated in a vast expanse of rolling green grasses and the occasional well-kept lake. This house was placed-or rather MISplaced- in a small clearing in the middle of a very untidy wilderness. She was eager to get inside. She entered the marble front hallway and was much more pleased with the interior of the place than the exterior. Very old world bijou, she thought. But there was no time to be admiring the decor. Carleigh re-extracted her notebook from her purse and flipped to the pages of notes given to her by her clan elders. As the Ventrue representative, she was to take charge of the situation as soon as all the other representatives arrived. In her hands was the description of their orders, the regulations as to the maintenance of this base, and all the other important details that had been decided on at the inter-clan council three weeks ago. The orders she had to administer bore the weight of the signatures of the eldest elder of every clan. Methuselahs, some of them. The Ventrue could almost have laughed out loud from sheer excitement. This was going to be her career maker! Carleigh Pederston, leader of the clans! Oh yes, that had a nice ring to it. Imagine, power and influence in every clan. This was what most Ventrue dreamed of! And it was all hers. "I'll be prince of New York yet!" She hissed triumphantly to herself. Not that she had triumphed over anyone yet. She still hadn't met the other members of this coterie. It was only a little after midnight, and even though midnight was supposed to be the deadline, the Ventrue were the only clan that seemed to have any sense of timing. Carleigh spotted a nicely sized sitting room off to one side of the staircase. She went in there to review her notes and wait for the others, not noticing the quietly cackling figure at the top of the stairs watching her.