decidedly inexpensive Capri to a standstill between the two parked cars, Sam got out and surveyed the surroundings. Water gurgled from a fountain sitting on a sizeable lawn. The lush grass was dotted with immaculately sculptured conifers. Heavy shrubbery and extremely tall, thick trees lined the edges of Carl's land, blocking out the weak sunlight and enclosing all within it. Set so far back from the road, a heavy silence permeated the air. It all gave the grounds a majestic but eerie atmosphere. Sam cast a sweeping look over the house. It was as grand and eloquent as the landscape it sat in. The huge property was fronted along its entire length by a veranda. Running parallel above it was an ornate balcony. Gazing at the numerous sash windows, Sam tried to gauge the number of rooms inside. He soon gave up.
He trotted up the front steps and pressed the bell, then stepped back to take in the multitude of closed circuit television cameras dotted around the property. Sam considered the sheer number of cameras enough to deter any would-be intruder. His attention returned to the front door as it swung open.
'Sam!' cried Carl enthusiastically. He was dressed more casually today in jumper and jeans. 'Glad you changed your mind. Come on in.'
Sam stepped into a long hallway complete with high ceiling and grand oak staircase. The panelled walls and bare wooden floors made the hall feel even more spacious.
'It's a big place you've got here, Carl,' he said. 'Very impressive.'
His host beamed proudly as he shut the front door behind them.
'That's very kind of you, Sam. I'll give you a guided tour later. First, let's talk business.'
Carl led him into a large sitting-room. The only furniture it contained were two black leather sofas in the centre of the room, a coffee table in between them, and a small drinks cabinet lined up against the far wall. Against the backdrop of more wooden floors and walls, the huge room seemed almost destitute to Sam.
'Drink?' asked Carl, venturing over to the cabinet.
Taking a seat on one of the sofas, Sam politely declined. Normally, he wouldn't refuse, even at three in the afternoon, but he wanted to listen to what Carl had to say with a clear head. He also wanted to get on with it.
'Okay, what's this all about?' he asked. 'Why do you need security?'
Carl poured himself a drink, walked around with it and sat down opposite Sam. He took a sip out of the glass and placed it down carefully on the table. Sam watched him patiently, noting the loose jowls under the man's chin and the paunch across his mid-riff. Too much of the good life, perhaps.
'I've had some threats recently,' said Carl.
'Who from?'
Carl chewed on his lip.
'Environmental activists,' he replied. 'Or terrorists, depending on your view.'
'What? Save the Earth, Greenpeace, that sort of thing?'
'Yeah, only a bit more extreme.'
'I think you'd better explain,' Sam suggested.
Carl sighed, drained his glass and stared into the bottom of it.
'I own a clothing manufacturing business called DR Garments. It's a large factory on the other side of Bursleigh. We built it years ago. But even before that, when I was buying the land, there was opposition.'
Sam wasn't surprised. Over the years, he had seen first hand how high emotions could run over environmental issues.
'Anyway, the site went ahead despite the protests and the business thrived. Then, two years ago, I expanded the factory. Doubled the floor size, in fact.'
Two years ago. A flood of painful memories threatened to swamp Sam.
'You had more protests?' he asked, determined to stay focused on the present.
Carl nodded grimly.
'That's right. Some people just didn't want to see the benefits. I'd already brought jobs and money to the area. The expansion would bring more. But they were more concerned about the welfare of bloody ducks and such like! How pathetic is that?'
Sam didn't want to get drawn into a moral debate.
'Who do you mean by some people?'
Carl moved to the edge of the
He trotted up the front steps and pressed the bell, then stepped back to take in the multitude of closed circuit television cameras dotted around the property. Sam considered the sheer number of cameras enough to deter any would-be intruder. His attention returned to the front door as it swung open.
'Sam!' cried Carl enthusiastically. He was dressed more casually today in jumper and jeans. 'Glad you changed your mind. Come on in.'
Sam stepped into a long hallway complete with high ceiling and grand oak staircase. The panelled walls and bare wooden floors made the hall feel even more spacious.
'It's a big place you've got here, Carl,' he said. 'Very impressive.'
His host beamed proudly as he shut the front door behind them.
'That's very kind of you, Sam. I'll give you a guided tour later. First, let's talk business.'
Carl led him into a large sitting-room. The only furniture it contained were two black leather sofas in the centre of the room, a coffee table in between them, and a small drinks cabinet lined up against the far wall. Against the backdrop of more wooden floors and walls, the huge room seemed almost destitute to Sam.
'Drink?' asked Carl, venturing over to the cabinet.
Taking a seat on one of the sofas, Sam politely declined. Normally, he wouldn't refuse, even at three in the afternoon, but he wanted to listen to what Carl had to say with a clear head. He also wanted to get on with it.
'Okay, what's this all about?' he asked. 'Why do you need security?'
Carl poured himself a drink, walked around with it and sat down opposite Sam. He took a sip out of the glass and placed it down carefully on the table. Sam watched him patiently, noting the loose jowls under the man's chin and the paunch across his mid-riff. Too much of the good life, perhaps.
'I've had some threats recently,' said Carl.
'Who from?'
Carl chewed on his lip.
'Environmental activists,' he replied. 'Or terrorists, depending on your view.'
'What? Save the Earth, Greenpeace, that sort of thing?'
'Yeah, only a bit more extreme.'
'I think you'd better explain,' Sam suggested.
Carl sighed, drained his glass and stared into the bottom of it.
'I own a clothing manufacturing business called DR Garments. It's a large factory on the other side of Bursleigh. We built it years ago. But even before that, when I was buying the land, there was opposition.'
Sam wasn't surprised. Over the years, he had seen first hand how high emotions could run over environmental issues.
'Anyway, the site went ahead despite the protests and the business thrived. Then, two years ago, I expanded the factory. Doubled the floor size, in fact.'
Two years ago. A flood of painful memories threatened to swamp Sam.
'You had more protests?' he asked, determined to stay focused on the present.
Carl nodded grimly.
'That's right. Some people just didn't want to see the benefits. I'd already brought jobs and money to the area. The expansion would bring more. But they were more concerned about the welfare of bloody ducks and such like! How pathetic is that?'
Sam didn't want to get drawn into a moral debate.
'Who do you mean by some people?'
Carl moved to the edge of the
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