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Offshore Islands

Page 60

by John Francis Kinsella

Gonzalo was a Spaniard, from Barcelona, and he always made a point of proudly proclaiming himself a Catalan. He had made his money the hard way, building up a civil engineering and construction company from nothing over a period of twenty years, starting with small profits that he reinvested, progressively building his team, investing in men and loyalty. Soon he had built a company with sales of more than 200 million dollars.

  He was heavily built and tanned with a mass of white hair swept back in thick main, he had just celebrated his fifty fourth birthday. He was a friendly easygoing man who inspired confidence, his team did not achieve their success through stress but through a desire to be close to him and win his friendship.

  Philipe Gonzalo’s firm just concluded the deal as the main contractor for the Ciscap hotel club complex. His firm had established its reputation in the seventies and eighties, in the construction boom in Spain, building hotels and condominiums, in the tourist resorts along the country’s Mediterranean coast and in the Canaries.

  Philipe Gonzalo Construcione had built time-shares for Prestige in Tenerife and Las Palmas. PGC was competitive offering an attractive style and finish for the tight contract specifications that Prestige, imposed on its contractors. The Ciscap deal was to be their first major contract outside of Spain, there had been stiff competition from French contractors, but Gonzalo had made an exceptional effort, the recession in Spain had been long and hard, over construction and too much competition, he had seen it coming and had started to explore overseas markets. His previous contracts with Prestige had been modestly profitable. The high profits of the seventies and early eighties were gone forever as far as he was concerned, maybe it was time for him to get out, the excitement and pleasure had long since faded, he had more than once thought of selling his company and recently had discussions with a large French group wanting to enter into the closed Spanish construction market. This group was interested by the potential of the Latin American market, which could be more easily developed from Spain, a member country of the European Union as was France.

  It had been Isaac Stein, the architect, who had introduced Gonzalo to Maurice Campo, a director of Ortega’s holding company in Monaco, which controlled the French construction contractor. Gonzalo was not sure of a quick conclusion, France had also gone through a severe crisis in the construction industry, perhaps they needed new markets, but he was unsure, he had spent his life concentrating on Spain, he was in spite of his position in business inexperienced in international affairs.

  If the offer from the French was attractive, perhaps it would be the moment to sell, it was not a question of simply getting out, but having more time for his family and enjoying life whilst he still had good health. Gonzalo thought that Campo was a conjone but if he could help him to make a good deal then that was fine, it was a question of price and timing, time was uncontrollable, it passed so quickly that he was beginning to lose track of the months and years not to mind the weeks.

  Gonzalo’s children were at university, he could hardly remember their schooling, his wife had looked after that whilst he had spent long hours at the office and in long meetings, in a haze of cigarette smoke and cognac, in hotel rooms in towns that finished by resembling each other to a point that he could barely distinguish one from the other.

  He had not taken any real holidays for years, at least what could be called a holiday by his wife. There was just the occasional sailing weekend with his good friend, Isaac Stein. Gonzalo spent the little free time he had at his villa on Majorca or his weekend home to the north of Barcelona at Palamos, but his weekends were more often than not invaded by guests who always seemed to be business linked, then there were the never ending telephone calls, urgent business, even on their boat the phone never stopped ringing.

  That weekend in Havana he had left the discussions to care of his staff and he had isolated himself at his beach hotel to try to relax and reflect with a clear mind on his future.

  As he sat by the pool amongst the plants and flowers of the gardens watching the tiny yellow and brown humming birds dart from flower to flower like large butterflies, he realised that the greater part of his life had gone and he counted the time that remained, it was time to enjoy the few years of good health that he hoped lay before him. He decided there and then that it was the moment to sell, the offer he had from Campo’s investor was too good to turn down!

  Ortega’s holding would not only pay a handsome price in cash, no credit, no financing arrangements, and in addition they would also take over all the debts. Half would be paid in Antigua, the half other in Spain. That way he would avoid the crippling taxes and have more than enough to ensure a good life for his children and grandchildren.

  For Ortega it was a simple thing to buy Philipe Gonzalo, he had seen many men like him who lacked the courage to take what they wanted in life. Ortega could offer himself anything that money could buy, money was the thing that he possessed as much of as he could ever possibly need, and much more.

  He lived to fulfil his insatiable and unrelenting desire to accumulate wealth and power. Half of his life had been consumed by Cuba, the island had become an obsession, and the idea of rebuilding it was on the scale of his ambitions. Gonzalo’s construction company was a mere instrument amongst others needed to fulfil his plans, as were its contracts with Ciscap.

  Chapter 61

  Two Friends

 

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