Not only was he overseeing the Casa D’Or launch, he was still keeping his eye on the rest of the Omari chain, not to mention his new pet project that had been jump-started to life. The RedReef resort acquisition had been rushed through, and with it had come dozens of meetings for creating the Omari diffusion brand. They’d come up with the name Santai for the spin-off, a Far Eastern word meaning ‘relax’, which he hoped would also become the byword for the new chain. He was still mulling over the idea of an electronics ban for guests from the moment they checked in.
He sat down at his desk and put some headphones on; at least modern technology had made things easier for his juggling act, he reminded himself as he prepared himself for his Skype call.
‘Gregor, how are you?’ he asked as a flickering image appeared on his monitor.
Gregor Bentley was the new RedReef general manager, transferred just a couple of weeks earlier from the Omari resort in Phuket. In Jim’s mind he had been the perfect recruit for their new Caribbean Santai property, having a CV that included many years’ service at one of the top Barbados hotels.
The RedReef was currently closed for both the hurricane season and refurbishment, but Gregor and his team had been hard at work getting the property ready for the December soft launch, and had been keeping Jim up to date with improvements in twice-weekly calls.
Gregor didn’t respond immediately to Jim’s casual greeting, and Jim instantly detected that something was wrong.
‘What is it?’ he asked quickly as his assistant brought him another cup of coffee.
‘There was a problem last night,’ replied Gregor, his brown face creasing with concern.
Jim’s mind went into overdrive wondering what it might be.
‘Daniel Verrander is in hospital,’ continued his colleague. Daniel was Gregor’s number two, who had also just started at RedReef.
Jim had faith in the hotel’s new executive team. Before his official appointment as RedReef’s general manager, Gregor had alluded to certain difficulties about working in the Caribbean and was keen to get his own team on board. Jim had agreed; he’d been in the business long enough to know how a corrupt management could fleece profits, and it had been one explanation for why RedReef had not previously been a flourishing business.
‘Hospital? Why?’ he asked anxiously.
‘He was jumped leaving the hotel last night. He’s fine. He will be. He has cracked ribs, a broken arm, bruising.’
‘Do we know who did it?’ asked Jim with rising panic. A violent attack at RedReef was not good news, least of all for poor Daniel Verrander. He pictured the hotel’s number two, a strapping, no-nonsense man. ‘You don’t grow up in Kingston, Jamaica without being able to look after yourself,’ Daniel had told Jim on his most recent visit to RedReef. It must have taken a group of assailants to inflict that sort of injury, thought Jim with concern.
‘We’re not certain, but we have an idea,’ said Gregor cautiously.
He paused a moment before he continued.
‘It looks like RedReef has been in the pocket of a local crime mob for a long time,’ he explained soberly.
‘Protection money?’ asked Jim, feeling the sunshine drain from his day.
‘I think they’ve taken at least a million dollars from the hotel in the last year alone.’
‘Shit. No wonder it’s not making any money.’
‘Daniel was on to it. He’s had experience of this sort of thing before. In fact he had already started weeding out members of staff he thought were involved.’
‘Staff were involved?’ said Jim, almost spilling his coffee.
‘Not directly, but it looks like some people were reporting hotel earnings to the mob boss so he knew how much they could extort. Daniel finished his shift last night and left the hotel,’ he continued. ‘At some point on his way home he was jumped by a gang. He was found by a tourist in a pretty bad way. We had him airlifted to the hospital in Provo last night. I didn’t want to contact you until we knew more.’
‘But he’s OK?’ said Jim, wanting assurances.
‘He’s shaken up pretty badly, which I think was the idea. It was a warning for sure.’
Jim took a sip of his coffee to help him think.
‘Who are this crime gang? Do we know?’
‘It’s headed up by someone called Marshall Roberts. Nasty piece of work. Lives on Baruda.’
‘And no one has had any contact with him?’
‘Not sure Daniel had the chance, no.’