CHAPTER 23 - THE TAKEOVER
Two years passed before Rosalinda the Elder deemed it safe for Jose's family to return to Cristo. Overcome with happiness, Jose packed Maria, Luis, and Rosalinda the Younger into the hotel taxi and headed home. Little Luis chattered incessantly during the long drive, while his new sister fretted and spit up milk, but none of this mattered. The family was reunited again.
Ramon had been so caught up in his rapidly growing network of criminal activities, he'd hardly given his sister and her power a thought during the duration of her visit. Now, here she was, back in Cristo, driving proudly by with her family in the hotel taxi. And, to Ramon's horror, she held a baby in her arms.
"STOP! STOP!" he shouted, throwing himself into the path of the taxi.
Jose hit the brake so hard that everyone went flying. A quick glance around told him his family had miraculously escaped injury. "Be more careful, Ramon!" he snarled. "Someone could have been injured!"
"Where have you been, sister? Why are you back? Whose baby is that?" Before Maria could answer, Ramon saw the baby's strong resemblance to his sister. Maria looked in her brother's eyes and had no doubt.
Her own brother had used magic against her.
"I can't be sitting here in the road answering your foolish questions," she scolded. "I must get to my home. I have a family to care for." Ramon grudgingly moved out of their path. The taxi made its way slowly along the road with Ramon staring after it.
That night he told Joseph, "My sister has a new baby. She has somehow gotten around me."
"How did she get past the Baka's protection?" asked Joseph in a worried tone.
"This must not be the beginning of the end. Our plans must not fall apart. We need a stronghold in the heart of the village," Ramon insisted. "Perhaps the hotel will do."
The next morning, bright and early, the two men presented themselves to Jacob as he breakfasted in the garden. They sat without invitation. "I have come into a great deal of money," Ramon began. "Enough to purchase this hotel at a fine price."
Jacob shook his head. "Las Naranjas is not for sale. Maybe someday, when I retire, but not yet. Not while I have breath to run things."
Ramon coaxed, but Jacob was firm. At last Ramon leaped to his feet and tore off his sunglasses. Jacob recoiled at the sight of those glittering eyes. Pure evil! Goldie had been right, he thought. These men were like Nazis.
"Perhaps, Seńor Tannenbaum, you might like to discuss the sale of this hotel with your wife," Ramon whispered, his manner suddenly sly.
"What is this man up to?" wondered Jacob. "My wife will not wish to sell either!" he said aloud.
"You won't know that until you ask her," smirked the taller, Haitian man. They left Jacob to ponder this, promising to return later.
"My wife? My wife? What did they mean?" muttered Jacob to himself. Had they done something to Goldie?
Desperation rushed over him. He jumped up, knocking his chair over, and raced to the reception desk. "Goldie! Goldie!" he cried as he ran.
No one answered his shouts. He looked around the lobby, behind the reception desk, and in his office. Goldie was not to be found. Jacob went immediately to their suite, the dining room, the lounge, and back to the garden. He sent Jose to search for Goldie and then he paged her, but Goldie had disappeared.
Jacob was in a frenzy. He turned the whole staff out to look for her. Waiters left wineglasses half-filled, and cooks left pots bubbling on the stove. Soon the guests joined the search and, in short order, the structure and surrounding grounds were covered.
Goldie had disappeared without a trace.
Jacob's frantic search eventually brought him to the wine cellar. As he stood there alone in the semi-darkness of the racks and bottles, his memory drifted back to when he had first purchased the hotel. Moving up from the Jewish section of Santo Domingo, hoping to forget the horrors of the war, he and Goldie meant to make a new start.
Even though it was set in this tiny village, the hotel with its old world charm had quickly become popular. Local people were his earliest customers who, when they married, spent a brief honeymoon in the new hotel. By Dominican custom, each happy couple brought the members of their wedding party to stay with them in the same room.
At first, Goldie had been aghast at the practice. Shortly thereafter, a Canadian social worker explained the honeymoon was probably the only time those of such limited income would taste, what they considered to be, great luxury. In this way, the newlyweds shared this wonderful experience with their best friends.
As the Tannenbaums became more familiar with Dominican customs, the entire wedding party crowded into the same room with the bride and groom began to make sense. The Tannenbaums became more comfortable with the way they found things and the people of Cristo grew fond of these funny, little foreigners.
The fact that the villagers considered the hotel and the couple who did such a fine job of running it so essential, became a blessing to the Tannenbaums. But they soon found the country was given to revolutions, now and again, since Dominicans seldom chose to negotiate or compromise. When the people deemed change necessary, they simply revolted.
From time to time, different groups of revolutionaries would eventually come upon the hotel. These men would wave rifles about, demanding rooms, hot showers, fine food and wine, and anything else that struck their fancy. These marauders soon realized Las Naranjas was a splendid hotel and wanted it to continue. They didn't, however, care to go to the trouble of running it themselves. And they did like this funny, little foreigner and his wife.
And they liked his wine cellar.
So, they revolted often, always stopping off to drink Jacob's wine cellar dry before they gave up and went home. After several revolutions, Jacob caught on. Being a fair carpenter, he betook himself to the wine cellar one day, armed with lumber and tools. He'd spent a month down there, sawing and pounding, before he let Goldie inspect his work.
To her great delight, Goldie discovered Jacob had built a secret wine cellar inside the original cellar. The new room was hidden behind a wooden wall panel on which a rack of bottles hung and the new lumber had been stained and treated to match the age of the surrounding wall.
Jacob demonstrated how the panel opened as Goldie was to share the secret, but only he was to visit the cellar to transfer their stock when wine was needed. In this way, revolutions could come and go, but the revolutionaries would only be able to drink the bottles they could find.
When he had free time, Jacob began a second project in the cellar. He worked slowly and carefully, and it took three years to complete. Then he proudly displayed his handiwork to Goldie. "See, on the inside, on the far side of the secret room, there is another panel. It swings out in the same manner." He opened the door and ushered his wife inside.
"I can't see, Jacob," she complained.
"That is why I have rested flashlights here." He switched the torches on and handed one to her. "Move down the tunnel." Goldie wasn't happy about moving down that seemingly endless tunnel, but they soon came to steps leading up.
"Steps up to what, Jacob?"
"I'll go first. This little panel I am opening. See! I can just squeeze out into the tool shed on the other side of the garden."
"But why have you gone to all this trouble,?" Goldie asked with wonder.
The little man stared at her gravely. "In case the Nazis come again. I am also making a passage to the secret room from my office. That way I can bring up wine, if necessary, without anyone learning of the secret room. And, if things ever again become desperate, through this tunnel we shall escape. From the office or from the cellar."
"So, how should I spend my life, Jacob? Standing with one foot in the cellar and the other in the office?"
"Just in case, Goldie," he insisted. "It gives us a chance to survive."
"Will we need to survive here, here in the Dominican Republic?"
"My wife," he insisted gently, "that's the way people in Vienna felt just before Hitler's soldiers began their mar
ch."
Goldie admitted there might be wisdom in this and, the following week, she hid their passports, money, canned food, bottled water, and a change of clothing in the tunnel in case of an emergency.
The tunnel! What if Goldie had known she was in danger? What if she had managed to get to the safe place?
Jacob triggered the latch and swung the panel open. To his relief, he found Goldie, crouched there, in the dark, sobbing, with one sleeve of her favorite dress torn away. She leapt into his arms.
"Oh, Jacob," she sobbed, "they came at me! Like Nazis, they were! I warned you about them!"
Jacob fingered the torn sleeve. "Did they hurt you, Goldie?"
"They tried. I was working at the reception desk when they just came at me. I backed away, but they kept coming. Then I ran! I ran to the cellar! "
"Did they threaten you? Did they say anything?"
"They laughed at me and said you were going to sell them the hotel. They said I would be going away from here. What were they talking about?"
"But did they hurt you, Goldie?"
"The big one, he tried to grab me. Ha! Didn't know an old lady could go so fast from danger! He caught my sleeve, but it tore in his hand. I made it to the cellar, unlocked the door, and got inside. They must have thought there was nowhere else for me to go. They managed to force the lock to the outer door, but, by then, I was inside our secret cellar."
"My poor dear," Jacob murmured, hugging her to him.
"They didn't know about the panel. I didn't go out through the tunnel. Just crouched in the dark while I waited for you. And so many people shouting and running back and forth. So frightening!"
Jacob shut the panel and led Goldie back to the lobby. He informed the staff and guests of his wife's safety, then took her to their suite and put her to bed. He wrapped the covers around her and stroked her forehead.
"A cup of tea, Goldie? Or a glass of port, perhaps?"
"A sherry, maybe. Oh, Jacob, those men are dangerous! What are we to do?"
"I survived the camps. I will not give in to these gangsters!"
"Jacob, we are talking about men not afraid to kill! Men who believe they will not be caught!"
"I love this hotel. It is my life. I have no wish to sell."
"I have no wish to die, Jacob. Maybe it is time to retire."
"One guard is not enough," Jacob declared. "I will hire more men with rifles tomorrow."
"Oh, Jacob," Goldie mourned, "I have no wish to go to war!"
The next morning, before any defense could be taken, the two men returned to the hotel.
"Perhaps," said the smaller man, "I behaved rashly yesterday. I realize now that you must like it here. Selling the hotel doesn't mean you have to leave. I would be an owner, often absent, who would need someone capable to run things for me. You and your wife could remain, in these same rooms. You would have the price of the sale, plus a salary for managing things."
Jacob opened his mouth to protest, but Ramon interjected, "Don't decide so quickly. I would rarely issue orders, relying instead upon your own good judgment. Of course, I would maintain a suite of my own. The one with the private entrance. And Joseph would become an important member of the hotel staff."
Joseph shot his master a look of horror.
"This will be necessary, Joseph, for you to oversee certain matters," Ramon insisted.
"I survived the camps!" Jacob shouted. "By you, I will not be backed into a corner!"
Ramon lifted his sunglasses just long enough for Jacob to catch sight of his glittering eyes, then dropped the glasses back in place. Jacob caught his breath.
"Draw up the papers!" Ramon snarled. "You have two days to turn Las Naranjas over to me!" He turned on his heel and exited the hotel. Joseph trotted quickly behind.
"Why have you changed your mind, sir? Why would you keep those old people here at the hotel?"
"Because I have found that everyone expects them to be here running things. If they agree to be our figureheads, we do not have to attend to the annoying, everyday details. This way, others may not discover that we are the real owners. Besides, if they do not work out, we shall make them disappear."
"But, sir, why must I join the staff?"
"Because, Joseph, this gives me someone on the inside. Someone others will be used to seeing around and not suspect. You see, you will be living in the hotel most of the time. Your own room, Joseph. Your own soft bed. With good food and drink. What is wrong with that?"
Joseph knew the answer too well. His altered appearance was a constant reminder that a mistake had been made in the original bargain. He saw how Ramon cringed inwardly every time he was reminded of the tall Haitian's cursed condition. Ramon was still willing to use Joseph. He simply didn't want to look at him any more.
Spellbound: a Tale of Magic, Mystery & Murder Page 26