“Does the lease have yearly options?” he pressed, leaning forward. If it did, he might be able to make the owner a better offer this time next year. A year’s delay in getting his hands on the warehouse would be a major inconvenience, but he could bide his time if it meant securing a long-term lease. The spice contract was hopefully just the first in a long line of many.
And who knows? If I work at it, I might be able to convince them to give up the tenancy a little earlier. Grease their palms with some coin.
Or make things so difficult for them that the new tenants came to him and asked that he take over the lease.
Now there’s a tasty thought.
Once Charles handed over the reins of the shipping company in the new year, Francis would be free to conduct business on his terms. Without his father’s interference.
But the second that the superintendent fixed him with a steely glare, a shiver of dread slid down Francis’s back. He knew that look only too well.
Did he and Papa go to the same school of parental disapproval?
“There isn’t a lease on the warehouse, Mister Saunders. The Basden Line Shipping Company owns the building.”
He lifted a piece of paper from the bottom of the file and slid it across his desk. Francis glanced at it and immediately recognized it as a deed of title. His heart sank to the bottom of his boots.
Oh, no.
“I am of the understanding that they purchased the warehouse some time ago but only took physical possession in the past day. I am led to believe that the owner currently lives in Ceylon. His representatives are getting the place ready for his arrival, which I expect will be soon.”
Little wonder the previous owner hadn’t bothered to return his correspondence. The building wasn’t his any longer.
Defeat settled heavily on Francis’s shoulders. The warehouse was lost. He fought the temptation to snatch up his hat and make a hasty departure. He was impetuous at times, but even he knew better than that. The earliest of Charles’s lessons had stuck. Just because one door closed didn’t mean that there weren’t others about to open.
“Are there any other warehouses in the North Quay possibly becoming vacant in the next year?” asked Francis.
It was a long shot. Competition for storage space at the London Docks was fierce. But as far as Francis was concerned, if you didn’t ask, you didn’t get.
The superintendent closed up the contract file and set it aside on his desk. With hands clasped gently together, he settled back in his chair and considered his visitor.
And here commences the lesson.
“Not that I am aware of, young man. If I may offer you a suggestion, it would be that you might want to make friends with the Basden family. I hear one of them arrived this week. Since they are just getting operations set up, they may offer to lease you some of their warehouse space.”
That’s all well and good for you, but a portion of the warehouse won’t be enough to generate the money I need to grow the business. I intend to fill every inch of that warehouse.
Francis’s interest stirred at hearing the news that one of the owner’s family was here in London. Interesting. If they were fresh off the boat from Ceylon, they wouldn’t likely know how the port worked. How the rules could be twisted and applied to his favor.
Whereas I do.
He might have lost out on the warehouse, but he had an edge over the neighbors. If he turned the screws just tight enough, they might come to see that London wasn’t the place for them. That doing business here was harder than they could ever have imagined.
And then they might leave.
Making friends with the Basden family was one option. Becoming their nemesis while operating within the boundaries of English law was a far more attractive proposition. He didn’t want to negotiate for a spare spot somewhere next door; he wanted it all.
By the time he was finished with the Basden Line Shipping Company, they would be begging to sell him the warehouse.
Francis got to his feet. “Thank you for your advice. I shall call on the new owners of number fourteen at my earliest convenience. Who knows? We might have similar business goals and find a way in which we can work together.”
Not bloody likely.
The superintendent rose from his chair and offered Francis his hand. “I am pleased that you have come around to this way of thinking. Your father said he was worried that you might be taking a hardline approach, but I can see that is not the case.”
A smiling Francis shook hands. “One should always look for options when it comes to business.”
And for a way to get an edge over the competition.
