“I wasn’t aware of any smuggling going on at the Finnish border. The Finns have always been above board. They tried really hard to stay out of that mess.” Del mumbled.
I moved the discussion along, “Well, anyhow, after a while their Russian car parts business got found out and the flow stopped from the local factory, but eventually he said they got it back because the factory director couldn’t penetrate his market and that his customers wouldn’t buy from the factory manager.”
“Kid, you what that means right?” Del sat up in his chair like a prairie dog had just heard a hawk in the sky.
“I can only think that to mean that he sent his thugs around to the garages and told them that if they ordered their parts from anyplace else the place would be burned down, fingers broken and the like,” I guessed.
“That’s exactly what that means,” he was almost sitting on the edge of his chair. “Oh yes, you’ve got a live one on the line, my friend.”
“Del,” I lowered my voice, “there is something else. You’re not going to like it.”
“C’mon boy out with it, what is there not to like?” he was getting really excited.
“Well. I asked him further what plans he has to grow his current businesses. We talked about him buying up retails stores for electronics and food, groceries and about the new supply chains he is building etcetera, etcetera, but then the topic of his night club came up, you know the one in the old church aways up the road here?” I was pointing out toward the river, motioning eastward, waiting for Del to start to piece things together himself.
“You mean the old church out by our building site?” Del didn’t have an idea of what was coming.
“Yes, that’s the one. Mr. P. is also planning an expansion of his night club into a casino and hotel on nearly the same site…” I held my breath to see what his reaction would be.
“Really? We haven’t discussed this at all at the city council meetings. There hasn’t been any permit request or anything filed with the city hall or the governor’s office. Are you sure it’s not just a dream of his? Did he tell you a timeline on his plans?” Del was rather confident that this wasn’t real.
“He showed me the master planning drawings, looked real to me but I’m not an architect nor engineer of course. He said they expected to have the question about the land title settled in June before the summer holidays and they would start digging in February or March next year. There was something about not being able to lay a foundation in the autumn…” I heard Del begin where I l left off, “…because the ground will freeze and thaw causing it to sink in the spring…,” Del’s voice trailed off. He was pensive and paused for a few moments. “Hmmm… he’s obviously done his homework. What else can you tell me?”
I went over my notes again for a few minutes and did my best to recall the conversation behind each line of notes.
“What puzzled me the most was that he has no foreign investors nor domestic bank financing. He tells me that he is planning to finance it all with his own money and partner investors. He may make enough money to live like a local prince, but I can’t imagine the sale of imported cars and radios to be enough to purchase and build such a palace of a place. Not even with the bit of pimping, drugs, and racketeering that he does,” I ventured. “How much would it cost? You probably have a very good idea of that, Del.”
“He would need at least one hundred twenty-five million US dollars to build a basic three-star hotel. Without him being invested in oil, coal or other natural resources he wouldn’t have that type of liquidity. His partners would have to bring that to the table.” Del was rubbing his chin thinking.
“I’m sorry, but we didn’t discuss his partners, in fact, he tossed me out right after he showed me those master plans. It all ended very abruptly,” I added to break the awkward silence.
Just then, Els who had been listening from the kitchen came into the living room and sat down across from me on the sofa and asked, “Peter, what specifically did he say before the interview ended?”
“He said he was busy. He said he had to get back to his work and his secretary would show me out.” I didn’t understand what she was wanting to know.
“No, no. There must have been something he said that he didn’t want any further questions about.” Els spoke as she took the swivel chair next to Del and looked me in the face, “To tell all the information he told you about how he started, about his expansion plans and the rest he must have seen you somehow immediately hostile and therefore ended the conversation quickly. Was it right after you were asking him questions about the financing that the interview ended?” Els had heard something in my story and had now honed in on what had not been said.
“Yes, that’s where it ended and then I was shown out.” I still wasn’t able to put the pieces together.
Els turned to Del, “There must be something in the financing of the plans that he does not want anybody to know. He wouldn’t go reading his biography to a curious foreign student and then just stop all the sudden after a few more inquisitive questions. He could have made up a story about the financing and Peter wouldn’t have been any the wiser for it and moved on. He stopped the interview and threw him out? There is something very sensitive that he is hiding in the financing of the hotel, something so personal that he doesn’t dare discuss it with anybody.”
I sat blinking at the both of them stunned and shocked. I felt a shadow agenda between them and the edge of the veil had been lifted for me to glimpse it but not understand it.
“You see, kid,” Del said to me, “Els worked as a criminal psychologist. She worked for twelve years with the FBI before we met in San Fransisco. Sorry to spook you like that. She is indispensable in this country for understanding people’s behaviors and motives, especially when they are lying.”
Els turned to me now, “Peter there must have been something else he said, some tip that he let slip that made him realize he had just told you too much. He didn’t mean to say it because he doesn’t have a cover story. He’s not good at thinking on his feet so he just threw you out of his office instead of trying to cover his tracks.”
I looked back through to my notes again and chewed on my pen vigorously.
“It would have been just before he threw you out, not early in the meeting.” She was coaching my memory like a hypnotist.
“I’m sorry. You have to remember that when I listen I translate right into English as I’m writing and sometimes I miss a sentence or two while I’m writing an important line. I miss lots of things still,” I was a bit frantic as I felt I was being interrogated now. Els’ voice stayed calm and soothing, “It would have been about the financing of his project. What questions did you ask him? What questions would you still like to ask him to learn more?”
“OK,” I took a deep breath to relax, “The question that remains in my mind is why he was so confident that he would get the building permit for that land when there is a competing, foreign money backed project slated for the same ground. Also, how could he possibly come up with the cash to finance this if he didn’t trust banks and foreigners.”
“Did he say that much?” she asked to clarify Mr. P’s words from my interpretations.
“Yes, he said specifically that borrowing money from foreigners would only keep Russia held back and that the banks would only steal the land from him eventually.” I blurted out.
“Was it specifically about the land? Was he not talking about the hotel project?” she asked again a pinpointed question.
“No, he was talking about the land rights or land purchase. There was a question of leasing or owning,” I remembered.