Page 95 of The House on Sunset Lake
‘We’ll see,’ he said as coolly as he could, before almost sprinting off the property and out to Gregor’s car.
He half expected to hear gunshots follow him from the house, but he got back to the vehicle safely.
‘How was it?’ said Gregor, already starting the engine.
‘Short, sweet. At least I escaped with my kneecaps intact,’ replied Jim, staring straight ahead through the windscreen. ‘Shit, I can’t believe I threatened a gangster,’ he added, glancing down and seeing his hands tremble.
‘So what did you say?’
‘I just told him we weren’t going to pay any more. I mentioned Simon Desai’s name a lot. Reminded him how powerful he is.’
‘Not around here,’ said Gregor, accelerating away from the house. ‘Roberts owns this island. Not literally, but the police, the ruling council are in his pocket.’
‘And what do you think might change their minds?’ asked Jim, feeling hopelessly out of his depth.
‘Maybe it’s about time you went and asked them.’
‘What, now?’
&nb
sp; ‘The alternative is to call Simon,’ replied Gregor.
‘I don’t want to get him involved,’ said Jim resolutely.
‘Then it’s business as usual. We continue to pay.’
‘We can’t be the only people in this situation,’ said Jim, trying to think. ‘Perhaps if we all got together, put some pressure on the police, it would force them to take action against Roberts.’
‘I’m sure it’s been tried.’
‘How do we know?’
‘Have you spoken to Connor Gilbert yet?’
‘No,’ said Jim, not wanting to even think about him. If Connor had been avoiding him before, he certainly wouldn’t be wanting a convivial chat any time soon. ‘I want you to call Dean Davies. He was general manager before we bought the hotel. Find out what has been done about Marshall Roberts, if anything. And then get me a meeting with the mayor.’
‘Welcome to the island,’ said Leonard Martin, clinking his glass against Jim’s.
St Sebastian’s mayor and de facto chief of the island had taken Jim’s call immediately, and had even suggested supper at his favourite harbourside restaurant to introduce himself properly. Jim had made small talk with the man over champagne and oysters, but now he wanted to find out if he really was screwed with the RedReef deal.
‘It’s good to be here,’ he said, switching on the charm. ‘The Omari group is delighted to be investing in Baruda. Simon Desai personally asked me to get in touch to say hello and just check we’ve got your support in making RedReef the most exciting new hotel in the Caribbean.’
‘He did?’ said the older man, obviously flattered. ‘Well, you can tell him that we’re thrilled to have you here. You’ve really got a beautiful stretch of beach over there. Did you know there’s a wreck off Catseye Point? I don’t know if you dive, but you should arrange to go down there next time you’re here. Maybe with Mr Desai. I could even come with you,’ he offered.
Jim sipped his wine and assumed an expression of puzzlement.
‘One thing,’ he said, taking a strategic pause. ‘One thing that has been worrying us is the influence of Marshall Roberts in the area. Seems to be the only supplier in the food and beverage chain, and we don’t really find that a competitive way of doing business, to be honest.’
‘We’re a small island, as you can see,’ said Martin, looking more uncomfortable. ‘Some people do have the monopoly on various services, but the quality doesn’t suffer.’
‘In New York, Marshall Roberts would be called a criminal, Mr Martin.’
‘I wouldn’t say that.’ The mayor began to stutter.
‘He’s a gangster and an extortionist. I hate to bring this up over a very convivial dinner, Leonard, but if his activities aren’t stopped, then Simon Desai’s investment in Baruda is going to be a very short one.’
Martin looked down at his swordfish and began to cut it up slowly and deliberately into small pieces.
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