Pearls

By DAVID PHILLIPS

Relive the horror of the vicious, bloody, dolphin hunts of Taijii, Japan and the hard life of the people of the area that resulted in young men being sent to Broome in far north-western Australia to life, and often to terrible death,as divers on the luggers plying the seas in search of the pearl. Join a chase through outback Australia as various groups are in pursuit of the man who has the ornamental koala package containing secrets of interest to Hong Kong, mainland china, Broome, Darwin and London. Meet a master jeweller and his wealthy clients at a Paris auction of a beautiful piece incorporating a magnificent pearl. Follow a cat burglar with interesting rivals and acquaintances. Feel the tension as Miles Howard negotiates with pearl company executives in Kobe, Japan and members of the Yakuza become involved in conflicts around and within the criminal cartels.

• Language: English
• Publisher: DavidRPhillips
• Release date: Apr 14, 2016
• ISBN: 9781533731418

DAVID PHILLIPS

David Phillips, FCPA (ret.) is in his mid-seventies and lives just out of Melbourne, Australia. He began writing in his early seventies and found an enjoyment in putting ideas together with research to come up with stories, often linked to historical events of interest. He finds writing a labour of love and spends time at the keyboard every day.

Book preview

THE PEARL

The shell had lain on the ocean floor for many years. A storm would come by and it would be lifted by the turbulence of the waters and deposited in another place. At times it would find itself in warm waters, at times in cold.

The shells lying in the harbour were home to a grey and somewhat translucent mollusk. The natives, in their searching for pearl shell, would sometimes pass it by. This shell was to also nurture something of far less pedestrian appeal. There were times when the shell would open a little, then close, as it fed on the ocean floor. At some time in the past, a minute ocean parasite had entered the shell and become an irritant which commenced an action with profound effect.

The mollusc inhabitant began to produce calcium carbonate to cover the irritant as a defence mechanism. This process bound the intruder in the pearlescent material produced within the shell and adorning its inside walls, known around the world as mother-of-pearl. Over a number of years, the process continued and the fragment grew in size and in outstanding appearance, unseen as it lay on the ocean floor.

Then, one day, it happened. Through the moving, slightly murky waters striped with sunbeams, came a rare sight. A large, slow-moving, air-bubble streaming, dark-coloured apparition trod alongside it and scooped it up into a net bag along with many other shells of similar appearance. It rubbed against others and was covered by a number of other shells until it was surrounded in the bag.

It felt the variations as it drifted in stages to the surface, a place it had never known, and then it was dumped out onto a flat, hard surface along with all the other shells.

***

The deck crew laughed and cursed as another bag of the shell was dumped on the work bench. They used the stubby knives to expertly open the shells. They were looking for the rare pearl and the shell inlay of brilliant mother-of-pearl. The run of the mill shell with no pearl and no real lustre to its internal coating was simply chucked over the side to return to the ocean bed. The sea would be charged with taking care of the environmental effects and the crew would ignore the killing of the mollusc.

As they worked there was the occasional excitement as something of real value appeared. Despite the irregular appearance of a pearl or a satisfactory shell there were normally few over-the-top finds to drag crew members to the bench. Today was to be one of the exceptions.

Midway through the afternoon the pearl was picked up and the knife inserted, the two halves separated to reveal a brightly luminous, pearlescent, ball of light so magnificent as to drag all crew members in response to the excited yell of the deck hand.

Holy Shit! Come and see this! It's.. it's.. it's bloody brilliant!

There was full agreement. Some had never seen a pearl so striking, so outstanding. Others had to think back quite a bit to try to match it.

The pearl had come ashore and was to make its mark in the world of the vanity of mankind.

Eventually, the pearl arrived on the desk of an expert in the matter of the value of natural pearl pieces, the man with the knowledge. This man did not call any expletives but he was most definitely impressed with the quality, lustre and size of the pearl. It would sell for a very high price to a high profile jeweller who would set it in a piece of outstanding artwork. It would become highly sought after amongst the wealthy and competitive clients of a master craftsman of the trade.

***

Henri de Marquet received rapturous applause as he walked to the stage following the announcement of his name. His clientele stood to acknowledge the presence of a hero craftsman. It must be said that the clientele present on this special day comprised a number of the rich and famous who, in their desire to be associated with and compete with others present, came prepared to over-bid and be noticed, to out-spend and intimidate, to win and receive the trappings of victory in the cliche world of grand avarice.

For this day was a once-a-year day for the jeweller to the rich, the famous and want-to-be's of society. Once each year Henri de Marquet held an auction for a select group of his clients during which he offered his classic pieces for the year, pieces kept over for this event, pieces released in a brochure only to the invitees and pieces he knew would invoke fierce competition among those present for the honour of winning and the pleasure of owning a masterpiece from the master. To his great delight they would pay fabulous amounts to achieve the honour and status they so firmly believed was recognition of their worth.

He loved this day. He was able to engender jealousy, stupidity, timidity, shame and hatred in these abominable people simply by providing them an opportunity to show their true selves to each other and he was able to view it all as the day unfolded.

He smiled inwardly as the crowd before him offered up their plaudits. He allowed his mind to dawdle on the memories of a life that led him to these such pleasurable moments.

***

Henri was born and raised in a village on the outskirts of Beaune, a delightful town in central eastern France. It was a little over three hundred kilometres from Paris, a city of which he had no knowledge during his formative years.

He was an introverted child, a lad of perceived and real shyness and one who was more than satisfied to be left to his own devised activities. Oddly, in these times of aloneness he often imagined himself the great showman, playing at presenting circus acts or thundering from the stage as the main character in a dramatic role. He might be a genius magician or a wanted bandit. Henrique saw himself as one of those who would always be noticed despite his desire to be apart during his childhood.

He had been ostracised and ignored throughout his years of education, did not even have the experience of being bullied or beaten by his fellow students, in consequence of which he had actively developed the internal persona of the standout showman. He also was a dedicated student and achieved outstanding academic results throughout his education. These dual processes enabled him to emerge from university with ambition, self-assurance and a self-managed aura of success not evident to others. He was, in his own world, a certain success long before he had any idea as to where and how this would be achieved.

As a young boy Henri was influenced by the conflicting effects of being an only child. He was treated as ineffectual, even weak, by a father who had struggled to achieve any worthwhile goals throughout his somewhat miserable life whilst being smothered by a mother determined to compensate for the attitudes and mores of the other parent.

He found haven in his room and in artistic outlet, at first sketching with pencil on white card obtained for him by his mother and graduating as he advanced in age and ability to a high standard of work in water colours.

His mother saw him as a future artist of renown while his father scoffed, assuring the lad that he would find no financial support from the family in such an endeavour.

The intervention of fate was fortuitous. As Henri embraced the act of graduating from university and its boredom and desultory years of application and the desire to escape the unhelpful family ambivalence, an offer of employment in a Paris newspaper provided the opportunity. It was an advertisement to be apprenticed to a leading jeweller. Henri applied without reference to either parent.

Something in his application reached out to the principal of the business and he was granted an interview. The master jeweller had no hesitation. He was sure that Henri was the person he sought as his protégé and the appointment was made on the first interview.

There was a distant aunt who was able to spare a room for the young man in her home on the outskirts of the city and lodgings were arranged. This required him to spend an hour each way in order to reach his new place of employment. This proved no concern to Henri who was an avid reader and who found an extensive array of classics in his aunt’s collection and gained access to several public libraries. He was able to pass the travel time absorbed in an expanded world of literature. It also provided time to extensively study his new profession using books provided by his employer and each trip provided either a question or an answer to an aspect of his daily employment.

His employer was Charles Bescontier, a craftsman of extremely high regard. M. Bescontier was happy to train his staff, including his two apprentices, to aspire to excellence in the creation of fine jewellery and was delighted with the enthusiasm and aptitude of the young Henri.

Henri developed the skills necessary to achieve excellence and exhibited an artistic flair far beyond that of any previous employee. As a result, M. Bescontier devoted considerable time in encouraging Henri in design, concept and final brilliance of execution of the piece. In time, as had been, perhaps, inevitable, the student became the equal of the master.

More and more he was left to his own devices as he created quite stunning pieces to be admired by all and acquired by the outrageously wealthy clients of M. Bescontier.

Then one day, with no forewarning, he gave his notice to his mentor.

He found a small retail outlet in an arcade away from the up-market shopping perimeter, purchased equipment and established H. de Marquet.

The people came. His reputation amongst the affluent had not been hidden by his mentor and the influential and elite collectors were constantly viewing his latest work. His fame grew as he continued to produce brilliant creations and one might often hear, in acceptance of words of admiration for a piece in possession: 'oh, thank you, of course it’s a de Marquet.'

M. Becontier did not forget his former protégé and visited him from time to time. He was ageing. He had a plan.

When the time came he suggested that Henri take over his business in the exclusive environment and, in the end, it was agreed that, with M. Bescontier retaining a modest share of the profits, Henri would become the owner. He was smart enough to leave the name of the business unchanged as he knew the value of the Bescontier name and knew also the value of his own name and personal drawing power.

And so he became the proprietor of Maison Bescontier, in the prestigious Place Vendome, Paris, France.

***

The auction had been in progress for some time and a not so small fortune had swelled the coffers of the house. There were those who had managed a swagger as a result of out-bidding a rival and those who had taken a beating. And there were those who were waiting for other pieces to be offered.

The time had come to offer the pearl to the breathless, grasping, audience.

Henri began his introduction of the piece.

This creation began its existence many years ago in the ocean depths of Roebuck Bay in the north of Western Australia, an area where many of the famous pearls have been found. The pearl was immediately recognised as one of the most magnificent items recovered from the seas and was separately offered by private auction to the elite craftsmen in the industry. I continued to bid until I secured the pearl I consider the finest any of us will ever see.

The finest pearls are very rare and combine all the elements that contribute to such rarity. Is the pearl a perfect round? This one most certainly is. Is it of a significant size? Ladies and gentlemen, when I unveil this piece you will be able to attest to its wonderful body. And then there is the colour and the lustre of the pearl. Because it is made up of many, many layers the final nacre covering has a deep and splendid, iridescent, lustrous appearance.

This piece could well have been purchased by a collector and treasured on its own account and have been, in that state, of great value. I purchased it, against the bids of such collectors as well as other craftsmen, because it is a dream. It is so fine that, in the perfect setting, it is perfection.

I spent months in the design and crafting of this piece. The person who eventually owns this brooch will be envied throughout the community of prestige jewellery owners. I will now unveil the piece in its reality for the first time. The brochure could never do justice to its luminescence.

Under the spotlights the drapes over the glass case were raised and the audience gasped. The diamonds in the white gold setting shimmered brilliantly sending iris tinted beams in all directions but could take nothing from the pearl taking pride of place and dominating the piece.  The only word that could describe the presentation was, simply, perfection.

The bidding will start at two million dollars.

This brought another gasp from the attending clientele. Some panicked grimaces and some smug smiles.

Walter Hancock, heir to a hotelier fortune, and well primed from several whisky sour libations at the pre-auction drinks and canapes, raised his hand and called the amount and the auction was opened.

Mrs. Westmoreland was not about to see the lout Hancock strut away with such a prize, one that he would never appreciate. She remained silent as she waited for others among those not eliminated by the opening bid to have their moments of glory. She could wait.

Mary Westmoreland was a wealthy widow, a very wealthy widow. Her husband died the sole owner of a large mid-west printing firm which had been handed down to the only son from a workaholic father he had spent precious little time with during his twenty-five years of paternal indifference. The business had been founded by James Westmoreland's grandfather, another fully engaged with his business interests rather than the family, again a single son, who got by without his involvement. Once a son and heir had been established these two gentlemen believed their obligations to wife and the begotten one were fulfilled.

Mary was aware of this pattern before she wed James and there was one thing she prayed would never happen. She did not want to bear a boy child. Her prayers may have been received in some medium somewhere as she managed to produce two lovely daughters before she declared child bearing over.

Mary made sure that from day one she was able to dominate the girls and was able to co-habit with James in peace. When concerns arose as a result of heart problems for her husband she was doting and caring. When a third, this time severe, attack rendered him without strength or acumen she took over all family and business matters. The printing plant became her domain during his final short confinement. She studied the business in detail and found that there was a more than modest cash surplus and that the business owned stocks and shares of significant value. Many of the shares had been held for decades and many were holdings in competitive companies.

She held meetings with the finance staff and the company bankers. She gave no indication of her thoughts, merely let them all think that she was just trying to get a handle on the business. They shared their private humour at the old lady wanting to get her feet under the boss's desk. When her husband passed on from a final failure of his heart the senior staff wondered where their now official boss would lead them.

Mary obtained detailed information on each of the competitors in the town and the state and nearby states. Her staff scratched their heads and were privately a little concerned that their new boss was a bit off the beam. They were totally unprepared when she called a meeting and issued a series of instructions from left field. In time these directions led to outright ownership of two of the competition, major holdings in three others and merged interests in three out of state printing and allied businesses. Through inter-group holdings she obtained control of seven regional newspapers.

Management of the company had not been overly strong and Mary identified this very early. By the time her initiatives were achieved all the original finance and administration staff had been fired and she had selected the best from the new companies to run the holding company and ensure tight management of all subsidiaries. All aspects of the companies were under comprehensive control.

As a result of her latent business acumen Mrs. Westmoreland was an extremely wealthy woman and yet a no-frills person. The other attendees had no idea of the extent of her wealth.

Harrison Winter was not going to wait. This was the prize he coveted. It was also the moment he craved, the opportunity to show this bunch of show-offs that he was just as good as they and could beat them at their own game. He was new money, a highly successful dealer in new and second hand cars, and he knew that these people looked down their noses at him and his store-bought wife.

Winter had dragged himself up through sheer persistence. He came from a dirt-poor farming family in the mid-western state of Missouri. His upbringing was a misnomer. His father was a habitual drunkard with a thousand excuses as to why things had never worked out for him. His mother was lifeless, unable to ever have an influence on her son because the father forbade her any rights to pass comment or interfere with his influence in family matters.

Harrison spent his infant and teenage years avoiding his parents. He found solace in the outdoors and in the town library. He was Huckleberry Finn and Tom Sawyer and Daniel Boone. He fished and hunted and swam in the nearby river. He was Babe Ruth and Mickey Mantle with home-made bat and any item that he could find to smack for a home run.

A lonely and less educated youth does not necessarily lead to an ineffectual man and Harrison was determined to find a way to success. He learned to trade - bicycles, rifles, sports gear and household goods (some of which may have come to him in suspicious circumstances). It came naturally to him and it became inevitable that he would identify trading in goods as his ticket out of the poverty he had experienced.

He found a job selling cars for a major dealer in St. Louis. At first he was unable to close deals. He was too anxious. It was fortunate that the dealer, one Harry Wilson, understood the problem.

You know, young feller, closing is always the hard bit. The rest is just conversation. And you have to close. But don't beat the prospect to the point of decision. Son, get him or her saying YES!  I'll show you how and help you because you've got what it takes. Just don't go and open up down the road as soon as you get it.

He received the training and found that he began to close at a good rate. He became a top earner and was amazed at just how much he was receiving in commissions. This led him to realise how much he must be earning for good old Harry. The dealership had flourished in the two years since Harrison had come on board and he was now clearly the top producer in the yard.

He received regular compliments from Harry but also from some of the men about town who had seen the effect of Harrison's sales expertise and dedication. He had learned from others as well as his immediate mentor. Every customer Harrison signed up found him to be something of a confidant. He would drop them a short line to advise of new models or just to say hello. He rang them to check if all was okay after the vehicle had been in for service. He showed them that he cared about them and the car they had purchased through him. When they next bought a vehicle or were asked for a recommendation there was a strong chance that Harrison Winter would be mentioned.

The moment that Harry Wilson had foreshadowed finally came. Harrison asked him to spare him some time for a chat. A chat, thought Harry, not likely! Is Harrison moving on? At the agreed time Harrison knocked on the door and was invited to come on in and take a seat.

I guess I've been expecting this for a while, son. You have done well, even better than I thought you would. I'm kind of proud of you and that I was able to be of help to you. Now, tell me what's on your mind.

Harry, I appreciate all you've done for me. You gave me a job when I'm sure plenty would have passed on me. You showed me how to deal with people and I thank you for that. But I need to keep growing.

I know you do, Harrison. So, what are you thinking is the next move for you?

Harry, I'm sorry, but I either must open my own vehicle business or buy you out of this one. He held up his hand. Please let me finish. I admire you and I love the car game and this business. But I'm on the way up and I have to keep going.

Where would you get the money to buy me out?

I have a financial backer up to a certain point. It depends on how much I have to find and how much you would be prepared to vendor finance.

Hell, son! That's a bit cheeky.

Have to call a spade a spade, boss.

Okay. Leave it with me for a few days. I'm not rejecting your offer out of hand and I will speak with my wife and my accountants before I get back to you.

Fine. And thanks for not flying off the handle at me.

In the end Harrison purchased the business and Harry did allow substantial vendor finance with an