No Place in the Sun (30 page)

Tom flipped open a pad and picked up a pen. ‘Ok, let’s make a list. First we have Spain, that’s going ok for now, we have three months stock left there with Juan at the current rate, and he seems to have more up his sleeve, so let’s leave Spain for a moment.’

‘Yes, Spain is the banker; we’re ok there for now.’

‘So, next problem is Budapest. Amir won’t give us an inch on the next project; the college residence thing is ok but it won’t be complete for more than three years and not everyone wants to go with something that far out. As well as that it’s rented back to the college and the return is low, under four percent. Basically we’re out of stock in Budapest.

Tania made a note on her pad. ‘So, what else is on the horizon then?’

‘Well, Amir has a cousin, Ehud Mamzer, he was working in Tel Aviv with Amir but he’s moved to Bulgaria, reckons it’s the next big thing. The Brits are already buying old houses in the villages and some of the older apartments along the coast at Varna. He has managed to tie down a big project up the coast, near the Romanian border, and he’s very interested in talking to us.’

‘But he knows the deal we pulled off in Budapest, he’ll be watching for us if we pump the price up.’

‘No, he’s a middleman, he’s not the developer. He’s in for a slice of the action from the project owners and he also wants to get a percentage from us, but he has no hang-ups about what we charge for it, none at all.’

‘When can you meet him?’

‘I could go to Varna in the morning, back Wednesday or Thursday, depends on flights. I could have a look at what’s on offer around that part of the world generally; maybe pick up a few projects at the right price.’

‘Ok.’ Tania scribbled on her pad and circled a few words. ‘What else is out there?’

Tom passed the sheets that he had printed earlier across the desk. ‘I got an approach by email this morning from these guys, Dengesiz Homes in Turkey, they’re anxious to sell into Ireland. The project looks very good on paper anyway, and the price is right. There are about thirty houses left in it as far as I can see, and if we tie up an exclusive on it we could come close to doubling the price easily enough. Might pull the rental trick there again as well, just add on another ten percent and call it a five percent return for two years.’

‘Tania flicked through the papers. ‘Certainly looks good, and the price is amazing, could easily handle a double price or near enough to it. Do you think that there’s any chance of rentals out there?’

Tom shook his head. ‘Probably not a lot, although they have an apart-hotel themselves, but that might have been an apartment development that they built and couldn’t sell, isn’t that where apart-hotels come from?’

‘We could always do what we did with Amir, let them manage it as part of their hotel and let them keep any rent that they get, or maybe half any rent that they get. I’m still mad that we let Amir away with that stroke in Budapest.’

‘What’s done is done, it was a miss but no real harm done, kept him on side after we pulled the fast one on him.’ Tom was less concerned than his boss about letting the other guy have some of the action. ‘What do you think, should we talk to this Turk?’

‘I’ll talk to him; you have your hands full this week in Bulgaria. My gut feeling though is that we’ll run with it for next weekend.’

‘But when are you going to get out to Kusadasi to see it?’

Tania smiled. ‘You worry too much, Tommy baby, I’m going to take a chance on it; it looks ok to me.’

‘But it might not even exist. All we have is an email and a website, might be nothing there except some sand dunes and a few camels, or whatever they have in Turkey.’

‘You have to take risks in this life, Tom, but I’ll tell this Turk to come over here tomorrow. If we at least know that he exists, then it’s likely that the project exists as well.’

‘But what about display stuff, will you ask him to bring it with

him?’

‘Yes, he can bring a suitcase full of brochures if he has them, and Andrew will make up display material from the website photos, it’ll be fine.’

‘But we might fall flat on our faces on this one, just for the sake of waiting a week; I could go there next Monday and check it out.’

‘Tom, don’t be such an old woman. I reckon that if we run with this project at the weekend, all our competitors will rush off to Turkey the following week and busy themselves over there while we are gaining a good head start in Bulgaria. I reckon that Turkey will never be any use long term, the country is backward and the government is nuts. Bulgaria might just be the place where you and I make our fortunes, Tommy baby.’

‘I have to hand it to you, Miz Sherry, you have a devious head. I mean that as a compliment by the way.’

‘Thank you, Mr. Murphy, I do my best. Now get us a sweet deal in Bulgaria and leave Turkey to me, and keep your travel plans between us, not a word even to Harry and company.’

The flight was late leaving Dublin, and they circled around London for half an hour waiting for permission to land. Tom worked his way to the front of the plane and was first on the airbridge when the door opened; it would be a close run thing if he was going to catch the flight to Varna.

It was a long sprint down the tubular corridors and through the flight connections area; he swore at the sight of the queue at the security screening area but there was little he could do but wait as one person after another fumbled with jewellery and belts. Breathless and panting, he made it to the gate as the airline staff were about to close the desk.

The plane was ancient; it looked like an old Russian model, a Tupolev or an Illyushin, not the kind of machine that inspired confidence. The crew was surly and unhelpful, and the breakfast was hot along one side and half frozen on the other. He pushed the uneaten food away and drank some of the gritty strong coffee. It had been an early start, and he was soon dozing, his head pressed against the side of the window.

The change in engine noise and the pressure in his ears woke him; they had started their descent to the airport at Varna. He was fascinated by the ice that was forming around the exit door just ahead of his seat; the door was leaking air with an audible hiss, and a frosty white bead was forming around the leak. This was one very old aeroplane.

The landing was surprisingly smooth, and he passed easily through the arrivals and customs area. He looked around for Amir’s cousin; he expected someone of the same build, and he peered closely at every short fat man in the waiting area beyond the barrier.

‘Mr. Tom Murphy?’ The tall skinny man tapped him on the arm. ‘I am Ehud Mamzer, cousin of Amir Mamzer. Welcome to Bulgaria.’

Tom looked at the stranger in surprise; the man was well over six feet tall and could best be described as gangly. His suit was a loose fit for his skinny frame, and his sleeves stopped short of his wrists. He moved awkwardly and slowly, bumping into people and trolleys as he led Tom through the arrivals area and outside into the sunshine.

The area outside the airport building was shabby and run-down; the communist administration had obviously been fond of poor quality concrete and their idea of tidying it up had consisted of the liberal application of blue paint. The area was drab, bordering on seedy, but somehow he was going to have to turn this place into the next El Dorado of the property business.

Mamzer led him to a car that was parked in a no-parking zone near the door; a policeman on a motorcycle was stopped beside the car.

‘Looks like you got a ticket, sorry about that.’ Tom wasn’t happy that he might be the cause of putting his contact in a bad humour; it would be bad for business if nothing else.

The Israeli laughed. ‘This is Bulgaria; that is Nikolai, he is one of ours, he come to bring us through traffic to our meeting. Is no problem.’ He waved to the policeman who saluted and started his machine.

Tom got into the passenger seat of the Lada and threw his bag in the back; he fumbled for the seatbelt but Mamzer waved his hand.

‘Is no need for seatbelts, police no bother us, is Bulgaria. Relax, all is ok.’

They followed the motorcycle out of the airport and through the city, the siren clearing their way through traffic; they were outside the built-up area in a very short time. Tom relaxed a little and took time to enjoy the sights as they raced north along the coast road.

‘Over here is Sunny Beach, was favourite place for foreign tourist in old days, now not so good, quality of hotels not good but maybe it gets better soon.’

‘What’s the story with the policeman?’ Tom was curious as to how a foreigner like Ehud could be entitled to a police escort as he went about his normal business.

‘My partners here, they own the project; they are important people, they are mayor and deputy in their town. It make easy for me if they send policeman to lead the way, I do not want to waste time in traffic.

Tom laughed at the idea. ‘So they have a bit of inside track, you know, they have good information about property?’

‘Of course, they make all decisions about permissions, also the zoning you understand. Is impossible to make business here without such connections.’

The Lada swayed and rocked along the narrow road; their escort forced his way past lines of slower traffic and kept them on the crown of the road for long periods. Tom gripped the seat tightly and held his breath; a person could die here, in this crazy country.

The little convoy swerved through a fairly large town and screeched to a halt outside a large old concrete and glass building festooned with flags. The Israeli unfolded himself from the car and waved Tom ahead of him through the main door.

‘Is town hall, here I have my office for now, please come this way.’ He stumbled up a flight of stairs to what looked like a public office, with a lot of people waiting around on long benches around the walls.

Ehud walked confidently past the waiting people and pushed open a door into a small room where a chubby woman sat before a computer screen. Two leather studded doors led off this ante-room, and the woman got up on seeing the visitors and opened the left hand door slightly to announce their arrival to the person inside. Tom caught a glimpse of a large desk and an array of flags, and a middle aged man in a white shirt and a leather jacket, before the door closed again. The woman showed them through the other door into a large room with a highly polished table surrounded by a dozen high-backed leather chairs. Ehud motioned him to sit in one of the chairs and he joined him across the table, deliberately leaving the chair free at the head of the table.

‘Coffee, some drink?’ The woman wrung her hands nervously.

‘Some water would be good.’ Tom was feeling dry and thirsty.

‘With gas, no gas?’

‘No gas’ Tom turned to Ehud. ‘Sorry, didn’t mean to speak for you.’

The Israeli waved his hands, ‘Is no problem, without gas is fine.’

‘So, is that the Mayor in the other office?’ Tom was intrigued by the setup; Ehud seemed to have installed himself at the heart of the administration in the town.

‘No, is deputy mayor, he is boss of construction company. Mayor is coming, one minute please.’

‘So what’s the deal, are they building here in the town?’

‘Yes, they have plans to build here some very big project, called Kukovo, but also more interesting project for start I think, near to Sunny Beach. Near enough to give it name Sunny Beach anyhow.’ The Israeli laughed.’ Irish buyers are not so exact about location, no?’

‘They rely on us to tell them.’ Tom smiled at the thought; lambs to the slaughter.

The secretary opened the door and ushered in a small man in a pinstripe suit; Ehud stood up and introduced the man. ‘Tom, this is Andon, he is the Mayor of the town.’

Tom stood and offered his hand. The man looked nothing like the mayor of a small town; he was immaculately dressed in a very expensive suit and his hands were manicured. He turned to the door and called out something to the secretary.

The woman returned bringing a coffee for the Mayor, and she was followed by the deputy Mayor. The number two was a big man, dressed in jeans and a leather jacket, and his extended hand revealed the appearance of someone who was not unused to hard work. He welcomed Tom and Ehud warmly.

‘I am Petar; I am deputy mayor of town. You will forgive my colleague, he speaks not English well, but I speak a little and Mr. Mamzer speak many language. We manage ok.’

‘I’m afraid I only speak English, and a little Spanish.’ Tom felt somewhat at a disadvantage in this linguistic tower of Babel.

The Mayor sat forward with his arms on the table and his fingertips together; he spoke for a few moments in Bulgarian, and Ehud translated.

‘He say, you are welcome to Bulgaria. Also he say, we have opportunity to make good business here and maybe to bring employment and prosper to this region. He say he have many good connection with the party in all areas, not only here but also in Sunny Beach and Varna. His colleague is excellent constructor, has built many school, road, apartment for social housing, many things for government. They have land here and also near Sunny Beach, and they have projects designed and ready for construct. Licence for construct, no problem, can get in one, two days maximum. First only need selling so banks can finance projects. This is where you can make business.’