by Easton, Don
“I mentioned it to Oskar and he said Stein was an important client, but other than that he was non-committal. If Stein asks you, I would refuse.”
“I certainly would. I guess if we both do, there isn’t much he can say,” added Stew.
“Exactly.”
“Well, good luck,” said Stew, extending his hand. “May the best man win.”
Jack shook his hand and walked away. He thought about the night’s events and Stein’s behaviour. What will tomorrow bring?
Chapter Twenty-Two
It was one-thirty Saturday afternoon when Stein called Jack.
“Where are you?” asked Stein. “I walked down to the boat and nobody is around. I thought you were suppose to look after me.”
“I was waiting for you to call.”
“Well, I’m calling now. I’m starving. It’s almost suppertime in New York. Get over here.”
“I’ll be there within half an hour.”
“Yeah … that’ll be okay. I’ll meet you downstairs in the Bengal Lounge.”
Jack met Stein twenty-five minutes later in the lounge in The Empress. Stein stood up as soon as Jack arrived and said, “Let’s get out of here.”
Jack waited as Stein charged two Bloody Mary cocktails to his room and they walked outside.
“Well, what do you have lined up for me?” asked Stein.
“What are you in the mood for?”
“I want oysters and a bottle of white wine. After that, I want to go see some naked women and see if the oysters work.” Stein chuckled, elbowing Jack in the ribs.
“The Wharfside is a good place to eat,” said Jack. “There is also a strip club named Monty’s, that is nearby. Both are in walking distance.”
“Great, what are we standing around for? Let’s go.”
It was four o’clock when they finished lunch and walked to Monty’s. Stein picked a table that bordered the stage and quickly caught the stripper’s attention when he tossed a ten-dollar bill onto the stage.
Stein soaked up the woman’s attention as she crawled like a cat across the stage and brushed her bare breasts across his forehead. When she retreated to another part of the stage, Stein turned to Jack and said, “I know what these girls like,” he said, and tapped the back of his hand. “Give it to me.”
“Give you what?” asked Jack.
“The coke. I’ll put a little on the back of my hand and give her a real treat.”
“I told you last night, I don’t do drugs.”
“What? I don’t believe this,” spluttered Stein. “And I told you I don’t give a rat’s ass if you do or not, but you’re supposed to be looking after me!” Stein gazed around the room and said, “I’m sure someone has some. Go ask.”
“I’m not a drug trafficker,” said Jack. “Go get it yourself if you want.”
Stein sat back in his chair and glared at Jack. “You know something? I don’t like your attitude and I sure as hell don’t like you … so fuck off! Get out of here and leave me alone.”
“With pleasure,” replied Jack. “You’re an embarrassment to be seen with.”
Jack returned to the motel where he was staying and debriefed his cover team. They were sympathetic to his plight and he suggested that they take the rest of the night off, with the exception of two of the team who were still out watching Oskar and Mr. Yu.
So far, there had been nothing significant to report on that end as Oskar was seen taking Mr. Yu to the usual tourist haunts.
Willy invited Jack to come over and spend the rest of the evening at his house, but Jack declined.
After everyone left, Jack was left feeling tired and depressed. He went to bed early, but felt apprehensive about his altercation with Stein and had a restless night. His only hope was that Oskar would be sympathetic as to the reason behind what would surely be Stein’s poor assessment of him.
To impress John Barfoot was even more critical and Jack went over what he knew of him. The guy seems lonely and family is important to him. Wish I hadn’t told him that I was divorced …
At one o’clock Sunday afternoon, Jack was about to enter The Empress Hotel to pick up John Barfoot, when Stew called out to him.
Jack turned as Stew, carrying a small plastic bag, quickly approached the hotel.
“What did you do to Stein last night?” asked Stew.
“Nothing,” replied Jack. “Last I saw of him was around four o’clock yesterday afternoon at a strip bar. I parted company with him then, at his request, I should add.”
“He phoned me at ten o’clock this morning to come and get him,” said Stew. “He was robbed.”
“Robbed? Was he hurt?”
“No, he woke up in some motel down on Gorge Road. His money and credit cards were gone. He thinks he might have been drugged. When he came to, he phoned me to come and get him.”
“Did he cancel his credit cards?”
“Yes, I got him to do that. He doesn’t want to report it to the police.”
“Because his wife might find out he was with a hooker,” said Jack.
“Uh, yeah. How did you know?”
“Just a wild guess,” replied Jack.
“He told the credit card companies that he lost his wallet, maybe at some bar he was at earlier in the night called The Fox.”
“The Fox? That’s another strip bar. When I left him, he was at Monty’s.”
“He told me that he thinks one of the hookers slipped a drug in his beer at the motel.”
“One of the hookers?” said Jack. “Sounds like the oysters worked.”
“Pardon me?”
“Nothing. What are you doing?”
“Got him some Tylenol,” replied Stew, holding up the plastic bag. “I think he is going to stay in his room today. He told me he wants to be left alone.”
As Stew headed off, Jack was greeted by John Barfoot who was waiting in the lobby.
“I’m ready,” said Barfoot. “Let’s see this family-run golf course that you’ve been bragging about. Maybe they’ll adopt me,” he added with a smile.
The drive to the Metchosin Golf Club took forty minutes and their conversation was easy-going. When they arrived, Jack introduced Barfoot to Shannon, who was working behind the counter. By the time they had rented clubs and a cart, Barfoot had met some of the regulars, including Shannon’s father, Grant.
“This really is a family-run business,” said Barfoot, as he prepared himself for the first tee shot. “I can see why you like it here.”
“Also a good course for those who are relatively new to the game,” said Jack. “Most everyone is friendly and not critical or judgmental if you make a bad shot. Or I guess I should say the bad shots I usually make.”
“That’s good to hear. I am a bit of a beginner myself.”
Over the next three and a half hours, Jack discovered that Barfoot was anything but a beginner. When Barfoot politely asked Jack if he wanted any tips on how to improve his game, Jack readily accepted. When they were finished, Barfoot asked, “What would you normally do after a game?”
“Well, for me, I would go to my favourite pub and have a beer and a burger, but seeing as Oskar is treating us, I’m sure you would prefer a more luxurious dinner.”
“What is your favourite pub?” asked Barfoot.
“The Country Rose,” replied Jack. “It is a pub that also has a family-type atmosphere. Mostly frequented by a more mature crowd.”
“No heavy metal.”
“None,” smiled Jack. “Judy runs the place and most of the waitresses who work behind the bar and serve drinks are really friendly and proficient. Debby, Laura, and Yvonne have worked there for years, so it really is kind of like a family.”
“A place where everybody knows your name.”
“Exactly.”
“How’s the food?”
“The food is pub fare, but it’s great. The Rose burger is one of the best burgers I’ve ever had.”
“Sounds like a place I would like. Let’s give it a try.”
“The Country Rose is my choice.”
Twenty minutes later, they arrived at the pub and a waitress came to take their order.
“Which one are you?” asked Barfoot. “Debby, Laura, or Yvonne?”
“I’m Debby,” she replied, giving Barfoot a curious look before glancing suspiciously at Jack.
“It’s okay,” chuckled Barfoot. “Jack has bragged about this place. Everything he told me is good.”
Jack ordered a local beer called Race Rocks and Barfoot said he would try it as well.
As they enjoyed their beer, Jack said, “You told me your main home was in Malaysia. Why there?”
“Partly location,” replied Barfoot. “Many of the companies I look to invest in are in Asia. It really is an expanding market over there.” He winked at Jack and added, “Not to mention, it is also cheaper and warmer.”
Jack smiled and said, “I have a suspicion that being cheaper is not a real concern for you.”
“Maybe not, but being warm is. The trouble of becoming an old fart is your blood thins. I like it hot.”
“You’re not that old.”
“You’re not that good of a liar,” chuckled Barfoot.
“How long have you known Oskar?” asked Jack.
Barfoot reflected a moment. “I’ve been in this business about thirty-five years. I think I first met Oskar about ten or twelve years ago. We are in much the same business.” Barfoot rubbed his chin as he gazed reflectively, then said, “Except he must be doing better than me. He is already talking about retirement and selling his company.”
“Retiring? He seems young for that,” replied Jack, not wanting to sound like he already knew.
“I think so, too. A guy needs something to do. Laying around on the beach is nice for a little while, but after that, I think if you don’t start using your brain, it will shrivel up like a raison.”
“Use it or lose it,” quipped Jack.
Barfoot gave Jack a sideways glance. “I probably shouldn’t have told you about his talk of retirement.”
“It’s okay,” said Jack. “Can’t see that it would affect anything by me knowing, but I’ll keep it to myself.”
“Why are you interested in joining his company? Is it strictly for the money?”
“I wouldn’t do it for free,” said Jack, “but I also like what the company represents.”
“And what does it represent?”
Murder incorporated comes to mind … Jack refrained from blurting out his thoughts. Instead he took a sip of beer and said, “I think it can best be summed up by quoting the Scottish economist and philosopher, Adam Smith.”
“The man who wrote The Wealth of Nations back in the 1700s?”
“Yes. I may be slightly off on his quote, but it went something like, ‘All for ourselves, and nothing for other people, seems, in every age of the world, to have been the vile maxim of the masters of mankind.’”
“I think your quote is accurate,” said Barfoot. “I’m impressed.”
“Ah, don’t be.” Jack chuckled. “I tried to memorize it last week, hoping I would get a chance to use it when Oskar interviewed me.”
Barfoot laughed. “Well, at least I know you’re honest.”
“Still, I think it’s a good one. As I understand it, his philosophy is that a good life is not only representative of the material goods you have, but also includes a combination of intellectual endeavour and high moral character. I think companies who pursue ethical investments have the potential to include all three.”
“I’m pleased that you would adhere to such a philosophy, but even if you have high morals and a good heart, making the right decision is not always easy.”
No kidding. Like letting a serial rapist off to catch a murderer …
“Let me give you an example,” continued Barfoot, “if a company in a third world has potential, but … say there is a minor problem, such as child labour, what would you do?”
“You consider child labour a mild problem?” replied Jack. “I would think that would be a huge problem. I would report it back to the companies who are thinking of investing and hope they don’t invest.”
Barfoot smiled and said, “I used to think that way myself, but if you look deeper, in some developing countries, if that child was not working in a factory, their only alternative would be prostitution. Which would you rather see a child in?”
Jack grimaced. “Tough choices.”
“My strategy is to promote change through dialogue with the company. Perhaps ensure that enough financial benefit is passed down from the executives to the person on the factory floor, so that their children do not need to work.”
“You could do that by talking with them?”
“Not quite. I would have a couple of investment companies slowly buy up enough shares so that we would have a powerful voice and be able to reflect the changes we want through shareholder resolutions and proxy voting.”
“Sounds sneaky, but I like what the outcome could represent,” replied Jack, raising his glass.
After they each took a sip of beer, Jack said, “The idea of buying up company shares to gain control is something I have discussed with Oskar, but I wasn’t thinking about doing that when you mentioned child labour. I automatically wanted to shun such a company.”
“But you do understand what I mean?”
“Definitely. You’ve helped me see what I call the big picture. You would be providing fair trade to people who would otherwise never get it.”
“Exactly,” smiled Barfoot, clinking his beer mug with Jack’s.
Jack took another sip of beer and put his mug down. “I can see why you are a valued client.”
“Actually, I may become more than a client,” said Barfoot. “Oskar has approached me to join his company and take it over completely when he retires.”
Oh, crap! You’re the second guy Oskar plans to kill before he retires… Jack felt a lump in his throat, but did his best to smile as if delighted.
“I haven’t decided yet,” continued Barfoot. “I should be retiring myself, but like I said, you need something to keep busy. Oskar talks of sitting on a beach under a palm tree, but that’s not for me.”
“If Oskar is retiring soon, I would expect he’ll be wanting an answer from you soon?” probed Jack.
“Yes, talking to him about it is the primary reason I came to Victoria.”
Jack tried to think of a reason, other than being murdered, as to why Barfoot shouldn’t join the company.
“You seem troubled?” asked Barfoot.
Jack shrugged and said, “With you having your own company, wouldn’t it be better if there was an apparent independence when it comes to buying up shares to gain control of a company?”
“You do have a point there,” conceded Barfoot. “If two companies discreetly work together to buy up shares, the collusion could work to an advantage for the AGM.”
“It would provide you with better leverage to direct the company in the right direction.”
“That it would.” Barfoot studied Jack for a moment and said, “You know, I am really impressed with you. I will definitely be passing on favourable comments to Oskar.”
“Thank you. After yesterday, I will need it.”
“It didn’t go well with Stein?”
“You hadn’t heard?”
“No. I’ve met Stein before. He is not someone whose personal company I prefer.”
“Yesterday he made it clear that he doesn’t like my company, either.”
“That is unfortunate. If I owned the company, you are the type of man I would like to have working for me.”
“Thank you.”
Debby came by and Barfoot ordered a second beer. She looked at Jack and said, “You too, Jack?”
Jack shook his head and said, “I’m still okay. Maybe in another ten.”
“Oh, you’ve got that three-legged table again,” sa
id Debby as she left.
“Three-legged table?” asked Barfoot, glancing under the table.
“Her expression means we are never done our beer at the same time,” smiled Jack, “which causes her to have to make more trips.”
Barfoot grinned, but then eyed Jack for a moment before saying, “A moment ago, I had the feeling you were trying to talk me out of joining the company.”
“I thought it made better business sense to be in a position to apply more leverage.”
“Is that the real reason you are trying to dissuade me, or is there something else?”
“Something else?” The smart old codger picked up on my concern …
“Is it that you wouldn’t want me as your boss?” asked Barfoot seriously. Before Jack could reply, Barfoot could not hide the fact that he was joking and chuckled. “Don’t worry, I hardly ever use the cat-o’-nine tails on my crew.”
Jack smiled and raised his glass. “I think I would be happy to work for a man like yourself.” If you live long enough …
Chapter Twenty-Three
On Sunday night, after dropping Barfoot off at The Empress, Jack drove to Beacon Hill Park where he met with his cover team and told them of Barfoot’s intention to join the company.
“Goddamn it,” said Willy. “Always peaks and valleys in this business.
“And right now we’re in a valley,” replied Jack. “Death Valley.”
“It does sounds like Barfoot is going to rate you highly,” noted Willy.
“Yes, but we could still be in trouble,” said Jack. “I really blew it on Saturday with Stein. My only hope is Oskar understands the situation and goes with what Barfoot says.”
“What about Mr. Yu?” asked Willy.
“I doubt that his assessment of Stew or myself will be much different. Neither of us had much time to try and impress him.”
“What do we do if you’re not hired?”
“I think we have to risk telling Stew immediately. He strikes me as a really nice guy. I am sure he would quietly withdraw, but Oskar would find it odd.”
“And John Barfoot?” asked Willy. “What if he joins? There’s no way we could not tell him. It’s not like we could protect him if he lives in Malaysia.”