“I’m not following you, Jill,” he said. “Can we get to the point?”
“I guess we can,” she said. “I’ve found a used 1993 Piaggio P-180 Avanti aircraft for sale.”
Jake suddenly became excited. He had been searching for one of the limited-edition Italian aircraft ever since he had ridden in one (and got to take the controls for a bit) from Phoenix to Denver back during the last Thanksgiving break. The problem was that it was such a fine aircraft, such a recent aircraft, and there were so few of them in existence, that no one wanted to part with them. But now Jill was claiming to have found one. And a 1993 as well! Only three years old!
“No shit?” he asked her.
“No shit,” she confirmed. “I’m told it has the original engines with only two thousand, three hundred and twelve hours on them. The avionics package is the premier level that was available then and has since been upgraded to include the integrated Garmin GPS-155 panel mounted system for navigation. The aircraft has been maintained to standards recommended by the manufacturer and all required and recommended upgrades have been done.”
“Out of freakin’ sight,” Jake said. “Where is this airplane? Where can I see it?”
“I have pictures of it sent from the seller,” she said. “I’ll send them to you in today’s mail. As for the aircraft itself, it is currently based at Guaymaral Airport in Bogota, Colombia.”
“Bogota, Colombia?” Jake asked incredulously.
“That is correct,” she said. “The current owner of the aircraft is a Colombian businessman by the name of Eduardo Gomez. He purchased the plane new from the factory in Italy and used it for personal transport—with a professional pilot flying it as he, himself, is not a licensed pilot. He is now upgrading to a Cessna Citation business jet and is selling the Avanti.”
“A Colombian businessman, huh?” Jake said carefully. “Do we know just what kind of business this Eduardo Gomez happens to be in?”
“I was told he is in the import/export business,” she said blandly.
“Import and export of what?”
“I was not given that information,” Jill told him. “And ... well ... I got the distinct impression that I should not enquire too deeply on this subject.”
“Jesus fucking Christ,” Jake said, shaking his head. “He’s probably a Colombian drug lord.”
“That is a distinct possibility,” she allowed. “Would that make this a ‘deal breaker’, as you like to term it?”
He considered for a moment. “Well ... maybe not. It will make me a little more careful about this deal though. Will Mr. Gomez’s occupation cause any snags with the transfer of title on the aircraft?”
“I wouldn’t think so,” Jill said. “I haven’t looked that deeply into this offer just yet, but I imagine that Mr. Gomez, if he is, in fact, a Colombian drug lord, has managed to build a wall of legitimate business around him to cover for any illegal activities. Since he purchased the plane from Italy and had to wire funds internationally in order to obtain the title in the first place, I have no doubt that the money he used was very well laundered in the eyes of the authorities who track such things. And I seriously doubt he would have used his personal plane to smuggle any cocaine or other drugs.”
“That makes sense,” Jake said. “It makes a lot of sense, really. How much does he want for it?”
“His original asking price was five point five million United States dollars; an amount that is considerably above the fair market value for such an asset.”
“Five point five, huh?” he said slowly. That was an awful lot of money.
“I took the liberty of doing a little negotiating for you,” Jill said.
“You did?” Jake asked, surprised. “You haggled with a Colombian drug lord?”
“Alleged Colombian drug lord,” she said. “For all we know he makes his money in coffee or fresh flowers. Those are the biggest exports from Colombia after crude oil and cocaine. In any case, business is business. And I did not talk to Gomez himself, but one of his accountants.”
“Ahhh,” Jake said. “A fellow bean counter.”
“We spoke the same language,” she said. “Figuratively as well as literally. Anyway, I made the gentleman I spoke to aware of the fact that Jake Kingsley was a man who did not appreciate being taken advantage of and that attempting to charge more than fair market value for the asset would likely result in the failure to consummate the deal. He appreciated this position and lowered the asking price to four point eight million. That is still a bit above fair market value, but not by much.”
“So ... it’s a reasonable price then?”
“It’s an outrageous price for anything,” Jill told him. “You’re insane to even consider buying a depreciating asset for that much, but to answer your question, yes, that is a reasonable price for an asset of this magnitude.”
“That is a lot of money,” he said.
“Could it be you are finally seeing reason?” she asked.
“Not necessarily,” he told her. “I’m just trying to wrap my brain around it.”
“Let me help you do that,” she said. “Knowing that you would be unlikely to listen to reason, I took the liberty of crunching some numbers and enquiring about financing. I have the figures right here in front of me.”
“All right,” Jake said. “Lay them on me.”
She laid them on him. “With your credit history and assets, Security Pacific Bank, who holds the construction loan and the mortgage on your current domicile and your current parcel of land, will give you a twenty-year loan for the purchase of the aircraft at an interest rate of six percent if you put down twenty percent of the value of the asset. This would give you monthly payments of twenty-seven thousand, five hundred and ten dollars and thirty-five cents. Yearly insurance rates for the lender-required full coverage on the aircraft would be eleven thousand, eight hundred and six dollars and fourteen cents.”
Jake whistled. “That’s a lot of money,” he said again. “Twenty-seven big for payments.”
“As I said before,” she said. “It’s an outrageous amount for what is really nothing but a big toy for you.”
“It does have a bathroom though,” Jake said, perhaps a little defensively.
“I would hope it has a fucking bathroom for four point eight million dollars,” she said, using the F-word for the first time in Jake’s recollection.
“Still, I can afford this, right?”
She sighed her sigh of frustration, transmitting it over the telephone line quite easily. “Yes, Jake,” she told him. “You can afford twenty-seven-thousand-dollar monthly payments and twelve thousand a year in insurance payments. It won’t even hurt you that badly as long as your revenue stream stays consistent with what it has been these last two years.”
“That should not be an issue,” he said. “Tour revenue is pouring in from Celia’s tour and both of our album sales. And we’ll be putting Brainwash back in the studio this summer and releasing their new album before the end of the year. There is no reason to think it won’t sell as well as their first album.”
“But this is a twenty-year loan, Jake,” she said. “How do we know what will be happening eight years from now, or ten, or fifteen. This is a long-term commitment. And, as I pointed out before, an aircraft is a depreciating asset. It is not like your home, which will always increase in value as the years go by.”
“I am an increasing asset as well, Jill,” he told her. “Every year, I make more money and am worth more. I plan to keep that trend up.”
“Then you want me to move ahead with this acquisition?” she asked.
“I do,” he said. “I’d like to fly out and see the plane, have some mechanics go over it, have them examine the maintenance and repair records. How soon can we start making that happen?”