Cruising Chapter Three

Dave and Paul went to the Library the following day and got a copy of the rates register and in there they found that the occupier of number 14 The Quay, Noosa was one Charles & Lynne Jennings, a quick look in the phone book gave them his phone number, and that was almost all they needed.

“Now lets see what Gav’s got planned for this weekend.” Paul said as they walked along the Esplanade, they found a café and watched the morning unfold before them.

Charlie’s week started with a game of golf and an opportunity to stretch the Bentley’s legs; he did love that car. He drove down to Maroochydore along the Sunshine Coast Motorway and up the hill behind the town that was Buderim and pulled into the car park of the Headland Park Golf club. Already sitting in the bar was his opponent, Russell Cooper a sleazy property developer who had come up from the Gold Coast to talk to Charlie about some land he had that Charlie had designs on.

“Russell,” Charlie said more enthusiastically than he meant, he offered his hand and the two men greeted each other; there was no love lost between them, they both had their own agenda’s and both needed each other and they would both use each other and then discard each other as soon as they became surplus to their requirements, but right now they greeted each other warmly.

“A quick one before we start?” Suggested Russell
“Absolutely.” Charlie agreed. Their conversation was empty and meaningless as they quickly sank a couple of lagers and went out to the first tee.

When Charlie first set up his pub in Fortitude Valley a vacant block of land across the road on Brunswick Street had caught his eye; the vacant land was used as a car park at the moment and was always ful; Charlie wanted it, he had plans to develop it and had searched long and hard to find who owned it his search had turned up Russell Cooper. Russell Cooper was a bloke who had been born into money; the Cooper’s owned half the Gold Coast and Russell was the heir apparent, a tall arrogant prick who had nothing whatsoever to be arrogant about.

Charlie had talked to Russell about his interest in the property and was open to offers, I bet you are thought Charlie, but Charlie didn’t do business without getting a good background on whoever he was dealing with, and with Cooper he had a truck full of info, and all of it very, very useful.

The subject for the reason of their get together wasn’t raised until the third tee; a group of four had just teed off and Charlie and Russell had a short wait until the quartet was out of range.
“So Russell how much will it cost me to relieve you of that little block on Brunswick Street?” Charlie asked, tentatively broaching the subject as he placed his ball on the tee. Russell took a practice swing; the third was a long par five the second longest hole on the course and their first opportunity to really drive.

“The current market price for a block that size; and it’s hardly small Charlie, it’s almost half an acre, is about five million, but it is such a rare parcel, Charlie I wouldn’t be interested in letting go of it for less than lets say seven.” Russell told him.

So there it was; a starting place: Seven million dollars. Charlie had absolutely no intensions of paying anything like that. They watched in silence as the previous group took their second shots and then they deemed it safe to play. Charlie had brought a Big Bertha Driver with him, a club he had never been comfortable with, but as he pulled it from the bag he felt confident that the big club wouldn’t let him down, he took a practice swing and then addressed the ball. He hit it sweet and straight, and picked up his tee very pleased with himself; but said nothing as he watched Russell prepare himself to equal Charlie’s effort; he fell miserably short. They got into the cart and trundled down the fairway, in pursuit of their golf balls. They stopped at Russell’s ball first, a hundred meters just on the right fringe of the fairway, Russell selected a club and Charlie pulled something from his bag, Russell’s second shot was better than his first and he was quite smug when he climbed back into the cart.

“What’s this,” he asked looking at an envelope on his seat, Charlie pulled away as Russell inspected to contents of the envelope. Russell looked at the photos in the envelope as Charlie pulled up beside his ball he pulled a seven iron from his bag and hit the ball as sweetly as he had ever hit a golf ball and was on the green in two.
Russell was white.

“Oh dear Russell, you don’t look well.” Charlie said with a smile as he drove down the fairway.
“Where did you get these?” He asked finally.
“You don’t know Russell? You do this sort of thing on such a regular basis that you don’t know where and when? You are a sick fuck, Russell.”
“What do you want?” Russell finally wanted to know. He got out of the cart and his third shot was so wayward he scattered the party in front of them on their way to the next tee.

“Your mind isn’t on your game Russell.” Charlie said with typical understatement. They drove to the green.

“What do you want?” Russell repeated.

“I told you I’m not paying seven million for that block.”

“So that’s it? What’s your price?” Russell demanded to know.

Charlie picked his putter from his bag as Russell wandered off with a nine iron. Charlie made a mental note not to stand with his back to the man, he was incensed. Russell’s fourth landed on the green about ten feet from the flag. Charlie missed an Eagle by less than an inch and tapped in for birdie. Russell two putted and recorded six.

“I want the block, plus a couple of mil in cash Russell and I’ll give you the lot.”

“There are more?” Russell asked incredulously.

“Oh yeah,” Charlie said smiling, “wanna see them?” And they drove to the next tee, but Cooper had lost all interest in the game. They stopped at the fourth tee and Charlie pulled a thick envelope from his golf bag and flicked the photos at Cooper like oversized playing cards. There were twenty very compromising pictures of Cooper that really left nothing to the imagination.

“Alright, alright, what do you want?” Cooper repeated conceding.

“You heard me Russell; I want that block and two million dollars.” The two men looked long and hard at each other, and when it was obvious to Charlie that Russell was just dumbstruck, he returned to the cart.

“I’ll be in touch Russell.” Russell pulled his bag from the cart, picked up the incriminating photos that were scattered like confetti around the cart and walked back to the club house. Charlie selected a 5 iron and continued on his own.