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

it up. He sat up and winced as he stuck his hand out and knocked the receiver off the cradle. The jackhammer noise stopped immediately.

“Mr Kane?”

The noise was tinny and came from the loudspeaker in the receiver. He looked at the dangling instrument and then stuck his hand out and grabbed it.

“Mr Kane.” The voice was more insistent.

He put the receiver to his ear.

“Yes,” he said. “For God’s sake, there’s no need to shout.”

“Good morning, Mr Kane. It’s Mustapha Safardi. We met in Sorrento at the Palace Hotel.” Kane tried to clear his brain. Safardi was one of the investors in Barrett’s boat. Christ but he wished he’d taken a shower and had a million cups of coffee. His tongue felt like it was covered in fur. “Sheikh Safardi.” He summoned the maximum control into his voice.

“Please call me Mustapha.” The voice exuded warmth. “Please excuse me for waking you so soon but I would like to talk with you if that would be possible.”

“Fire away.” Kane heard his voice as though it were coming through a fog. Wake up you dumb bastard, he screamed in his mind. This was important. Safardi was connected with Barrett and he was Kane’s prime suspect. It was time for him to get with the programme.

“Not on the phone.” Safardi’s voice oozed honey. “I have taken the liberty of having breakfast for two delivered to my suite and I was hoping that you would agree to join me.”

“I’d love to, Mustapha.” Kane forced himself into full wakefulness. “But I think that I celebrated a little too much last night. I’m not feeling completely human this morning.”

“I think it is quite important for both of us that we speak. Do you think that you could join me, room seven zero one?”

“Keep the coffee warm. I’ll shower and be with you in ten minutes.”

“Thank you.” The line went dead in Kane’s hand.

Safardi’s suite at the Majestic was the kind of palace that Kane thought only existed in movies. The breakfast was laid out on a table in the living room. The service was silver or if it wasn’t it was close enough to silver that he wouldn’t know the difference. Safardi indicated a seat at the table and Kane sat. The cold shower had brought him fully awake and if he wasn’t exactly at the top of his powers, he was at least aware enough to know that something was going down and that he should keep whatever wits he had about him.

“Breakfast.” Safardi lifted the lid of the plate in front of Kane.

“No thanks.” Kane took a swift glance at the scrambled egg and bacon; his stomach churned. “Coffee will be fine.”

Safardi played waiter and poured a cup of coffee. “I’m glad you agreed to join me.”

“My pleasure.” Kane drained the coffee cup in one swallow and proffered it for a second fill.

“I have been most impressed with your driving, both in Sorrento last week and here yesterday.” Safardi filled the second cup of coffee. “You have a wonderful future in the sport.”

Kane sipped on the second cup wondering whether he had read the situation wrongly. Maybe Safardi was simply trying to recruit him for a future season of offshore racing.

Safardi picked up a pitcher of orange juice and poured himself a glass. He offered it to Kane. “It’s freshly squeezed.”

Kane shook his head.

“You seem to thrive on the danger in the sport,” Safardi continued, sipping his juice. “That is an important element in success.”

“I get off on it.”

“I thought as much. I have a proposition that might interest you.”

“Great, I love being propositioned.”

“You are a very interesting man, Mr Kane.”

“You can call me Mark. I find you interesting too, Mustapha, but I’m not that way inclined.”

“Neither am I, Mark. The proposition I have in mind for you is a financial one.”

“Those are the best kind.” He sipped at his coffee. “I love financial propositions where the finance is heading in my direction. What do you have in mind, Mustapha?”

“I want you to do what you’re best at, Mark. I want you to drive a powerboat for me.”

“No joy, Mustapha. I’m contracted to Penhalion until the end of the season. You’re a little bit behind the times.”

Safardi lifted the lid off the plate in front of him and forked some scrambled egg into his mouth. “You don’t seem to understand, Mark. I have no desire to poach you from Penhalion. I want you to drive for me on special occasions. Outside of race times, I mean.”

Kane’s pulse suddenly took on a life of its own and began to race. The cobwebs which surrounded his brain began to drop away and he realised what was being discussed. Barrett was out of action and the gang needed a replacement. Safardi was the boss man. Tom’s fool plan was working but only because Barrett was a stupid bloody idiot. “Okay, no problem. I race for Penhalion. What I do on my own time is my business.”

“Right, and I intend to pay you a substantial sum of money for doing this favour for me.”

“Now you’re talking.” Kane leaned forward. “What kind of money are we talking about?”

“This one time. Fifty thousand dollars.”

“Phewee. Fifty thousand dollars. I’d do anything for that. And all I have to do is drive a powerboat?”

“That’s right.”

“In a race?” Come on, you bastard, he thought. Hang yourself.

“Not quite. But sort of. You’re interested in principle.”

“I’m interested all right. Let’s have the details.”

“That comes later,” Safardi said standing up. “I need you from today until Wednesday. Is that possible?”

“For fifty thousand dollars anything is possible. What do I have to do?”

“Be ready to leave the hotel in one hour. I will be in the lobby in exactly sixty minutes.”

Kane stood and held out his hand. “It’s a pleasure doing business with you, Mustapha. A real pleasure.”

“I hope so,” Safardi said, leading him to the door. “One hour. In the lobby.”

“Check,” Kane said and left the room.

Safardi closed the door and smiled. It had been infinitely less