Crash Course by Derek Fee (pdf to ebook reader .txt) 📕

Lots of clues but they don’t seem to point at a real person. No feelings, no humanity.”

“What you see is what you get.”

“I very much doubt it. And I doubt that I’ll ever really know you unless you decide that you want me to.”

“Isn’t that the same with everyone?”

“I suppose so.”

“Now that you know a few people I can leave you to your own devices,” she said quietly. “These parties tend to go on for quite a while but don’t forget we have practice tomorrow.” She turned on her heels and walked away from him.

He watched her as she crossed the room. He wanted to follow but held himself in check. Morweena was getting to him big time and that was perilous, for them both.

Chapter Seventeen

David Penhalion felt rather than saw Dinos Karakatis standing at his shoulder.

“Good evening, David.” Karakatis’ English was sibilant and heavily accented.

“Good evening, Mr Karakatis,” David said coldly.

“Call me Dinos, please.” The smile would have chilled the blood of a grizzly bear. The Greek shipping magnate was dressed in an expensive silk lightweight suit which fit his short blocky body to perfection. The face was swarthy and classically Levantine. A face straight out of the Arabian Nights topped off with a thatch of salt and pepper hair. Karakatis was the living proof that the Turks left more behind in Greece than a taste for thick acrid coffee and a liking for honeyed sweets.

David didn’t respond.

“And how is business at the renowned Penhalion Marine?” Karakatis asked with a false smile which showed a set of perfect white teeth.

“You should know better than most. I understand that you’ve been making discreet enquiries as to the financial situation of the company.”

“It is obvious that my enquiries were not discreet enough. Now that my interest in your business is no secret, perhaps we could discuss the terms you consider fair for the purchase of the yard. Terms which should, of course, be based on the current level of business. You should understand that no matter what, I intend to own your boatyard.”

“That would be completely out of the question. The Penhalion yard is not for sale. Ever.” David could feel his heart pounding in his chest and his mouth had gone suddenly dry. He tried to convince himself that the Greek was simply a businessman looking for the main chance. But he knew that Karakatis was a leech. He attached himself to ailing businesses and then bled them dry. His interest in Penhalion Marine preyed on David’s mind. It would be considered the kiss of death in many circles.

“That’s not what I’ve been led to believe. My advisers have compiled a complete dossier on the Penhalion boatyard. The wolves are at the door but you appear to be too deaf to hear them howling. You know, David, my parents were kicked out of Smyrna in 1922 with only the clothes on their backs. And they never forgot the experience. Since then, we have managed to build up one of the most impressive tanker fleets in the world. There is no reason why you should fear me taking over your company. I have no intention of breaking it up for the assets. The name Penhalion is synonymous with quality and it would be my intention to build on that good reputation. If you do not wish me to buy your business outright, perhaps you would accept a loan from me to cover your present financial difficulties.”

“I don’t think so. You’re right, the name Penhalion does stand for something. We’ve been in Cornwall since anyone can remember and we’re proud. I have no intention of allowing you or anyone else to use the Penhalion name. I don’t think I could live with myself if I let you and your kind stencil the name Penhalion on some tub that was run up in a yard somewhere on the other side of the world. As to your offer of a loan, I’d sooner do business with the devil. I think he’d treat me fairer.”

“You misunderstand me. I am simply trying to add another jewel to the Karakatis crown. Your ailing yard would be synergetic to some of my businesses so an uncontested takeover would be in everybody’s interest. I have no intention of screwing you totally, David. You’ll still have a few pounds left when I’ve finished with you.”

“Thanks, but no thanks.”

“Very well, have it your own way. I can either buy the yard from you or from the receiver. Either way will serve my ends.”

“You’ll own Penhalion Marine over my rotting corpse.”

“Very possibly.”

Chapter Eighteen

The Penhalions, father and daughter, sat in the corner of the back room of Parrucchiana, the local ‘in’ restaurant. David had eased his bulky frame into a chair which had been set under a giant rubber tree. The decor of the Parrucchiana was tropical garden, plants drooping huge leaves towards the diners from every angle. The powerboat set had moved on from the cocktails and had dispersed into the villages along the coast. Those requiring greater anonymity had already rounded the Amalfi Coast and were nestling in some discreet trattoria in the quaint fishing village of Positano.

Morweena had scoured the second floor of the Sorrento Palace searching for Kane before she had agreed to join her father for dinner. It was infuriatingly normal that their driver was nowhere to be found.

“That’s the bottom line, Morweena.” David dabbed at his mouth with his napkin. He had demolished a huge plate of the restaurant’s speciality, spaghetti aglio, olio e peperoni. “Tom has agreed to keep us afloat until the end of the year but after that, we’re on our own. Trying to break into the offshore powerboat business will probably prove a bridge too far for the boatyard. We’re hung out to dry on this one. The vultures have been gathering for the past few months led by the biggest fattest vulture of them all, Constantinos Karakatis.”

“You can’t give up the business without a fight. I’ve got some money saved