When Evil Wins (16 page)

The aircraft landed at Edinburgh Airport at 11.05 a.m. It was only five minutes later than expected, Richard noted. Within thirty minutes they’d disembarked and were standing in the baggage collection area waiting for their suitcases to come around on the conveyer.

A few short minutes later Richard spotted their luggage and removed it from the belt placing the cases quickly on to the baggage trolley he’d picked up on the way to the airport's exit.

Leaving the airport building Richard and Liz got into one of the waiting taxis.

“Where is it you want to go?” the taxi driver asked.

“The Sheraton Grand Hotel please,” Richard replied.

“Are you here to take in the history of our famous city?” the taxi driver asked in a friendly manner.

“Unfortunately, not this time,” Richard said. “It's just a short business trip.”

“Oh. That's a shame,” the driver said. “Do I detect a southern English accent?”

“Yes you do,” Richard said curtly, hoping to cut short any further small talk. He had a lot on his mind and discussing the ins and outs of what Edinburgh had to offer for tourists was not at the top of his priority list at the moment. He just wanted to get to their hotel, unpack and then make his way to the restaurant, which had been booked for a meal and a meeting with Midlothian Council's Head of Economic Development.

His answer to the cabby’s question had the desired effect and the final leg of the journey carried on in silence allowing Richard to think about everything that needed to be done during the few days he and his wife had in Edinburgh.

Within forty-five minutes the cab stopped in the taxi rank outside the hotel. The driver unloaded their luggage from the cab and Richard paid him over and above the amount the cab's clock was indicating

“Thank you very much sir,” the cab driver said after a moment’s pause to calculate the tip he’d just been given.

Richard and Liz wheeled their suitcases across the paved plaza that led up to the hotel's front. Stopping just before the steps up to the entrance Richard and his wife looked at the building's massive and pristine façade.

“This is amazing Richard,” his wife said, appreciating the hotel's presentation.

“I think I can agree with you on that,” Richard replied, more than happy with the way the hotel looked from the outside.

Before they got any nearer the steps the hotel's concierge appeared and greeted the couple. “Welcome to the Hotel Sheraton and Spa. I take it you have a room booked here?”

“Yes we do,” Richard responded.

“May I take your luggage Mr…?”

“Mr and Mrs Jameson, and yes, please take our luggage.” Liz and Richard followed the concierge up the steps and across the hotel's plush Victorian lobby to the reception.

Liz gasped at the lobby; this was certainly the best hotel she’d ever stayed in, out of all the hotels she had frequented as part of the business trips she and her husband had been on.

“This is Mr and Mrs Jameson.” The concierge introduced the two new arrivals to the receptionist.

 
“I believe we have a room booked,” Richard said.

 
“Yes, you have one of the grand bedrooms booked,” the receptionist confirmed. “Is it three nights you are staying for?”

“Three nights, no problems prevailing, after that it may be more.”

“If it's more and you can let me know in advance, we'll try not to move you from the room you have,” the receptionist informed Richard.

“Thank you,” Richard said, more than appreciating the professionalism of the hotel’s staff.

“Have you stayed here before?” the receptionist asked.

“No we haven't,” Richard replied.

“Could you please fill out this form then?” the receptionist asked. “We only require your home address and a signature. If you'd been here before this wouldn't matter.”

“That's no problem,” Richard answered, taking the form from the receptionist; Jessica he noted from her name badge, and after he had completed the form he handed it back to her.

“Would you like someone to help you to your room with your luggage?”

“If that's not a problem it would be helpful. Thank you,” Richard said.

“I hope you enjoy your stay with the Sheraton Hotel and Spa.” Jessica handed Richard a plastic card key for their room.

“I'm sure we will.”

“If you would like an evening meal then our restaurant opens at 6.00 p.m. for dinner and the last orders for a meal are taken at 10.00 p.m.,” Jessica said and added; “after that, if you prefer something later, we can always provide room service.”

“Thank you very much, Jessica. I'm sure we will be taking advantage of your hotel's cuisine during our stay,” Richard said, beginning to like the hotel more than others he’d stayed at during previous business trips.

The concierge took their cases to the lift, Richard and Liz followed, their room was on the second floor.

As they entered the room, once again they were taken aback, it was stunning. The furniture and all the trimmings were of a rich polished wood, brown, but almost bordering on a mahogany red and the carpet was comfortable and functional underfoot.

At the end of the room, furthest from the suite’s door, was a deep red leather sofa situated in front of two windows whose space was filled with a view of Edinburgh’s castle.

“This is wonderful Richard,” Liz said putting her arm around her husband. Richard just nodded, left for a change, without a word he could say.

After a moment Richard started to unpack with Liz joining him once she had taken a slow walk around the room attempting to get used to their plush temporary accommodation.

As soon as they were done Richard checked his watch. It was now coming up to two in the afternoon. There was still plenty of time to relax before their meeting with Iain Younger, the man from the Midlothian Council's Department for Economic Development.

The whole project for opening a specialist book shop in Edinburgh had taken five months in its conception, getting agreements that were beneficial to both his company and the local council: followed by another seven months to organise the premises, obtaining the available grants and permissions that would finally end up with hiring the staff who would be working in the new store.

All in all a lot of effort had been expended to make sure that this venture, a new venture for Richard and his company, would come to fruition.

Richard checked his watch again, he didn’t like being late and thought that anyone who was, was just being discourteous, though on occasions there were acceptable reasons.

It was a good while before he and his wife had to be at the Kweilin Cantonese restaurant in Dundas Street; one which had been recommended by the leader of the Council’s Unit for Economic Development.

Richard sat down in the lounge area of their suite and forced all thought of the meeting and his business from his mind. He gazed out of the window but within a few minutes he was up again, he was going to enjoy this quiet time before his business schedule kicked in

“Liz,” Richard said as he went to the mini-bar, “would you like a scotch?”

“Yes, I think I may dabble this time,” she replied.

Richard placed two glasses on to the counter, broke some ice into them and then poured the single malt. They both sat down and relaxed on the comfortable leather sofa, looking out over Edinburgh; and its castle, which sat high up just as a judge would prevailing over his court.

After an hour of relaxing, getting over the travel, Richard got up and retrieved his briefcase, placing it on the table he had been sat at. Opening it up he got out all of the relevant papers to study. He didn't want to come across as unprepared to Iain Younger, he had to make sure all the facts were to hand and ready to recall. One by one he went through each of the documents. Half way through the pile he paused to make a call.

“Reception?” he asked.

“Yes this is the reception, Mr Jameson.”

“Good, can you book a cab to take my wife and I to the Kweilin Cantonese restaurant in Dundas Street, for seven o'clock?”

“Of course we can, sir. Would you like a call when it's arrived?”

“That would be good,” Richard said, before replacing the telephone back in its cradle. He continued to go over the documentation.

The time was now five thirty and Richard put all the documents back in his briefcase. “I think it's time we ought to get ready,” he said to his wife.

Liz put down her magazines and nodded in agreement.

At 6.40 p.m., after an hour's getting ready, their hotel phone rang. Richard picked it up and, after a brief conversation, said to his wife; “The cab's outside. Are you ready?”

“I'm ready. Are you?” Liz said, winking at her husband.

Before leaving the room Richard said; “You look absolutely stunning. I think if I can't seal this deal then just your appearance alone will do the trick.”

“Don't be stupid Richard,” Liz said smiling. “Business is more than just a pretty face.”

“I wouldn't be too sure if I were you! How d'you think I got to where I am today, if it wasn't for you?” Liz didn't respond, she didn't need to and loved the compliments her husband gave her. They were the perfect team, in work and in life; both each other’s soul-mate. She had everything, a nearly perfect husband (he could concentrate on work a little less) and the perfect daughter, a conscientious rebel.

Liz and Richard left their hotel room for the cab. Within minutes of seating themselves in the car and clicking their seat belts in, they were outside the restaurant.

“We're a bit early Richard, don't you think?”

“It's always best to be early. I think it shows respect for the people you're meeting.” With that said Richard and Liz entered the restaurant.

The waiter greeted them and placed them at the table that had been booked by Mr Younger. By the time the waiter started serving Richard and Liz their drinks, Iain Younger had appeared through the restaurant's entrance and had started making his way to the table.

“Mr Jameson, I assume?” Iain Younger said, approaching his table. Richard stood up and shook the man’s hand. “And who is this lovely woman you have brought with you tonight?” Iain Younger finished in a light-hearted accusatory tone Richard did not much care for.

“This lovely woman, as you say, Mr Younger, is my wife. And, as we work together as a team, you will see that this is the only lovely woman I'll ever bring to meetings on this or any other occasion, for that matter. My P.A.…,” Richard paused for a moment before continuing, “is non-existent.”

Richard suppressed his annoyance at Iain Younger’s perceived supposition a person with his reputation would have anyone other than his wife with him. And putting that aside, for the sake of the venture and the painful memories of Mandy's demise this man had suddenly forced him to recall, Richard Jameson continued, in his professional manner, as if there was nothing awry.

“Well, welcome, Mr and Mrs Jameson, to our fair city,” Mr Younger finished

After the tense nature of the introductions which seemed to go over the council representative's head, the meal and talk went without a hitch. The food seemed to settle everyone.

The meal was phenomenal and as the evening went on Iain Younger's apparently insensitive manner disappeared as he got to know the people he was talking to.

When everyone had finished their courses and had had their final drinks Iain Younger called over one of the waiters. After a few short moments a waiter appeared at the side of the table. Iain Younger handed the waiter his credit card and indicated that the tab for the table should be paid for, on it.

“Mr Jameson,” Younger said, “I can't thank you enough for considering Edinburgh as an appropriate city to open this shop of yours.”

“Mr Younger,” Richard started, “it has been a long road to get to this point but I must say that without your council's forward thinking and assistance the whole project would have collapsed at the first hurdle.

“There is no doubt in my mind that this city's history and nature cast it as the only option for this venture of mine and the council has paved the way more than adequately.”

Iain Younger nodded at the compliment. “If there's anything I can do to help with anything else then just call me.”

“I will do that. And thanks again,” Richard replied, satisfied with the way the evening had gone.

The two parties shook hands and leaving the restaurant made their respective ways back to their homes, permanent or otherwise.

Once back in the hotel room Liz piped up, “I didn't like him.”

“I think he was just someone you had to get used to,” Richard said. “You can never know a person until you meet them and have a conversation, a long one at that, in this case. First impressions are always hard.”

“I suppose you're right,” Liz said, getting ready for bed. “What are you doing tomorrow?”

“I'm meeting our new friend Mr Younger, once again, at the new shop with all the staff the job centre has interviewed and deemed relevantly skilled. Do you want to come?”