Matthew Cornachione - Dansk Bay Hotel

Three crisp knocks on the door started someone stirring inside. A gentle voice called out, “Please come in.”

With a deep breath, I braced myself for the negotiation and stepped into the room. What I saw inside shocked me.

Dansk Bay was a worn-down town, a place making the best of a bad lot.

Nekker’s office was the picture of opulence.

Ornate lamps lined the walls, their light reflecting off the polished marble floor. Paintings of fishermen fighting a marlin, ships sailing into the sunset, and salmon swimming upstream adorned the walls. Bookshelves filled with commercial fishing tomes sat along the back of the room.

In the center of it all was an oaken desk, styled with carvings of whales. Atop it rested an enormous pair of modern computer monitors along with a phone and other typical office fixings. Two plush guest chairs faced the desk. The rest of the room was empty, but immaculately clean.

Frankly, I was amazed. Business must be better than I thought.

Or, it had been once.

Nekker himself stood behind the desk. Like the room, he projected elegance. His hair was neatly groomed, face clean-shaven, and he was dressed in a three-piece suit. Aging and a little overweight, but still vibrant. As soon as he saw me, a smile blossomed on his face, and he stepped around the desk, hand extended.

“You must be Kyle Ressler. Pleasure to meet you.” That was a heavy accent. German? Dutch maybe?

“The pleasure is all mine, Mr. Nekker,” I said as we shook hands. Though he was short of stature, his grip was strong.

“Nonsense, and call me Nigel. Please, have a seat.” He gestured toward the guest chairs.

Nothing creepy about this man. Just the usual bullshit flattery. I loved it. Despite myself, I relaxed into my routine. “Of course. Thank you, Nigel. And, please, call me Kyle.”

I took my seat, and Nigel moved back around the desk to his own chair. “So, Kyle, I see someone is finally interested in purchasing my lovely hotel. Perhaps it can now be returned to its former glory.”

“Former glory? So, you owned it when it was operational?”

“Alas not. I bought it when I came here ten years ago, hoping I would find an opportunity to use it. I have not, and the beauty rests, abandoned. Perhaps you can do what I could not.”

“Well, yes, that is our hope,” I said. “We at Touravista would love to be the ones to restore the, um, beauty.”

“Excellent! I see you truly appreciate her potential. Easy to see, then, that you will buy her for what she is worth.”

Wow, Nekker liked to get to the point. Eager as I was to set the price and get out of town, that was a huge red flag. I needed to know more. How had the hotel fallen so far?

“The question of what any hotel is worth is a difficult one to answer,” I said. “Tell me a little of the history. A building so unique must have quite a story.”

“Indeed. The hotel, she is almost as old as this town. She has watched over us for decades. Dansk Bay would not be the same without her.”

“I can imagine not, but right now, that place isn’t doing any good for anyone. How much business did it used to do? What kind of clientèle did it attract?”

“All before my time, I’m afraid. I do know that she has stood proud since I’ve owned her. She’d be a fine purchase, dear Kyle.”

We were going in circles. This wasn’t the first time I’d encountered resistance; it always meant that there was something to hide. Nekker knew exactly how awful the hotel was. But was he covering up anything else?

I’d just have to press harder.

“I can’t that I agree. Everyone in town has told me to get the hell out. Even your worker down there got upset when I asked him.”

“Ah, but that is just Lucas. He is very sensitive.”

“Lucas?”

“He’s the hired hand. The Captain always needs extra help in the summer. The young lads who come in, well, they can’t always afford a home. I look the other way when they stay in the hotel. It is good that she can still serve.”

The man was living in the hotel ? I wouldn’t do that if someone paid me.

“Ah. Well, that’s going to have to stop if we can come to any deal.”

“Bah.” Nekker waved a dismissive hand. “I will be sure to have the lad removed. You can count on it.”

“Okay, I’ll trust you, but I still need to know something about the hotel’s potential. If you don’t know the full history, at least give me the records you have. I need to review them before I’ll talk price.”

“Records? She has stood empty for a decade. There is nothing to record.”

“You’ve got nothing? No permits, licenses, repair receipts, floor plans? You must at least have the title.”

“Mm, I did once, but so much has happened since then. It is lost to time.”

Oh, thank you, Nigel. That was just the out I needed.

“Well, that’s it, then,” I said, standing up. “If you don’t have the title, we can’t do business. Touravista will only work with someone who has a legitimate claim to their property.”

“Oh, dear, um… Well, it must be that there is a record of it somewhere. I will call my associates; they will find it. Too late today, of course, but I am certain I can have it for you tomorrow.”

I eyed Nekker carefully. Sweat beaded on his forehead, highlighting a receding hairline. He wiped his pudgy hands on the front of his shirt. The man came across as borderline incompetent, but from the look of his office, he did some things right.

No, I suspected the truth was much harsher. I’d met businessmen like Nekker before, men who cut every corner possible to maximize their personal haul. Up here, isolated, he was unchecked, able to do whatever he wished without scrutiny. But, what was he hiding?

I didn’t know yet, but I was more certain than ever that there was something wrong with the hotel. Likely the seed of the local superstition. Nekker wouldn’t share his secret outright, but that didn’t matter. I had the upper hand in this negotiation, especially since I was more than happy to walk. I pressed harder.

“That’s your last chance to give me something solid. I don’t care what you have to do. Call your agent at home. Either way, I’m out of town on the next train tonight. You have until then.”

“I understand your concern. But, Kyle, I cannot disturb my agent at home. That is not good for business. Please, wait until tomorrow. You will see that everything is in order. My hotel is a good purchase.”

I eyed him. His eyes darted, his hands fidgeted. He was definitely worried. But, his back held tall, rigid. Despite his nervousness, he wasn’t going to budge.

“Fine. But show me the title first thing tomorrow. Don’t make me regret this.”

“Of course. And please, let me make this up to you. I have a lovely guest cabin reserved for my esteemed colleagues. You will have a wonderful night.”

Before I could respond, Nekker dug through a desk drawer. He pulled out a small golden key and handed it over. “The key to your accommodations! Just follow Main Street past the hotel and up the hill. Your cabin is the second on the left.”

“Uh, thank you, Mr. Nekker. But, this won’t affect my final price. We have a hell of a lot of work to do to get that place looking decent.”

He nodded, and I headed to the door. As I set my hand on the knob, Nekker called after me.

“Oh, and Kyle, have a safe evening.”

Rain fell outside. Not hard, but a steady drizzle. I stood in the warehouse lobby, surveying the dreary weather. The storm looked like it was here to stay. Everything was going from bad to worse.

Fortunately, I’d come expecting it to be wet. I set down my bag and pulled out a poncho. After draping the garment over my dress outfit, I picked up my bag and ventured into the rain.