2019-11-15 - The Foster Interview

Getting an interview with Joshua Foster isn't as difficult as it seems, necessarily. He's a busy man, so finding time is a bit of a chore, and then his lawyer wants to see a list of proposed questions in advance. But, eventually, a date and time are agreed upon, and Jessica gets met at the guard shack on the land-side of the half-mile bridge that leads out to the Casino, checked in, and driven across in the golf-cart to the Casino proper. From there, the security guard - his name's Wallace, he seems all right but a little rough around the edges - leads her into the finished interior, through the empty space that's just waiting to glitter to life.

A short elevator ride takes them to a mezzanine level, where Foster himself is waiting. "Miss Flores?" He smiles pleasantly and offers a handshake.

The questions supplied were the standard sycophantic set and if Joshua, and his lawyers, are good at promoting themselves would allow all kinds of self-serving answers that would make them look good in the eyes of the Great Unwashed. So, of course, Jessica has no intention of sticking to them when the time comes.

She has dressed well for the occasion - pencil skirt power suit - and even done the whole make-up thing. Wallace will be asked a few questions as part of casual conversation; How long has he worked here? What did he do before? Enjoying the change? Must be a busy job with all the protests? His full name noted to check on later.

The casino certainly looks impressive. Grander than the one in the reservation (she really needs to get out there and ask some questions)?

Then there is the man himself. Jessica offers him a warm smile, happy to take his hand in greeting. "Please, call me Jessica. Thank you for finding the time, Mister Foster. You must be very busy at the moment." A little laugh. "Or all the time I would imagine. I'll try not to keep you too long. Is it okay to record our conversation? I'd hate to get something wrong."

Wallace will happily tell Jessica how he's worked for Foster for a minute. He works for the security company, which lately means he works the Casino, but he's had jobs in Elma, Ocean City, and a few other places. He likes this gig, though, 'cause he and Big John (nowhere in evidence) are buddies. Of course, he clams up by the time the boss is in sight, then wheels on his heel and strolls off to do whatever the rest of his day entails.

Leaving Foster with the handshake and the invitation into his office. It's a nice office. Plush but obviously seldom used. It has the amenities, but the laptop on the desk doesn't live there, and the place still smells new - like plasticizer. "Of course," he answers for the recording. "Make yourself comfortable. Do you want some water or coffee?" He has a little fridge and a coffee pot, so presumably those aren't just empty offers. He'll stay standing long enough to receive the answer, so as not to sit down and have to immediately get right back up again if she's keen for a beverage.

"A coffee would be nice, thanks" Jessica replies. "Black and bitter. Like my relationships." Her tone light and, hopefully, humorous.

She places her phone on the desk in record mode before settling into a visitor chair, legs crossed demurely. "It's easy to be comfortable in such surroundings. This is your home away from home?" She takes it all in as she gets comfortable. Might even casually check out what is on the laptop screen - via reflections rather than rudely looking. "This place looks close to opening. I bet you can't wait. Though I understand there's some last minute trouble? Some environmental silliness?"

There's a chuckle from Foster. It sounds authentic, but then the guy does have a good MEDIA PRESENCE, so it could just as easily be a courtesy-laugh. Regardless, he strolls over to make with the coffee, doing things to the Keurig that's here for just such situations. It's probably never been used before ever, so enjoy the inaugural cup!

While waiting for it to do its thing, he follows the look around the room, shaking his head. "Less so than I'd have liked, to be honest. It's intended to be that way, buuuuut." He trails off, dipping a nod to her comments about the last minute trouble. "Pursley's petty little lawsuit, you mean. It's purely personal. He probably doesn't know the difference between a cutthroat trout and a goldfish." Grumble.

"Personal? In what way? You know Pursley outside of the law suit?" Jessica still likes to take physical notes too - noting body language emphasis and such that the recording cannot register - and soon has a pen and note pad in her hands. "I understand the E.P.A. were still interested in the case though. And there were witnesses available." A little frown "He must really dislike you, Mister Foster. Holding back a project so obviously good for the community over a grudge."

Frankly, "We went to high school together, and he's been an asshole ever since." The coffee finishes, so Joshua hands the cup off to Jessica, black and bitter, then strolls over to take a seat at his desk. "You can put that in your article if you want. Joseph Pursley, huge asshole, blocks opening of casino out of pettiness. Front page headline." Notably, Foster is not touching the matter of the E.P.A.

But he'll talk shit about Pursley all day long, so! "Read his lawsuit. Cutthroat trout, psh. He's a small little man that can't stand seeing someone else succeed."

"Mister Pursley may have personal reasons, petty reasons, for what he is doing, but he also was able to get a number of witnesses and E.P.A. backing for the lawsuit. Thanks." The last for the coffee as Jessica takes it and then blows lightly over the surface. "Some of those witnesses were murdered recently, did you know that? And..." A little snort of amusement. "...as ridiculous as it sounds, some think that the reason was to stop the investigation. But, obviously, you had nothing to do with it. Correct?"

Without missing a beat, Joshua points out, "And yet - and yet! You'll notice that the E.P.A. didn't file this case themselves. You know why? Because they know it's bullshit." He's all set to go on a tear about the fish and who knows what else when Jessica steers the conversation toward witnesses and murders, and he looks across the desk at her with a really-now expression in place. "I'm pretty sure that wasn't on the list of questions you sent to my lawyer, Miss Flores." His smile stretches tolerantly, but not - like - really tolerantly. He may appreciate the press, but that doesn't mean he's dumb.

All of which Jessica would know is true! Just not really the answers she was looking for.

"Normal question service is now resumed" Jessica smiles sweetly. "With your other casino not too far away, do you worry that this...quite impressive...emporium will cannibalise the market. Is there room for two or, conversely, do you see this as a franchise that could expand indefinitely? Not that a lovely place like this should ever be called a 'franchise'. How many people do you expect to employ here? How much money do you think will flow into the community? The kind of things that our readers definitely are concerned with."

Oh good. Talking-point questions. Foster has readily available answers for these, and they're good ones. As to the first, he assures smilingly, "The Quinault own their own casino, I only help them manage and promote it." Which leads into his well-prepared comments about expanding the tourism in Gray Harbor, and he just happens to have some figures right here that he can share with Miss Flores about projected revenues, the number of employees - see here? hotel staff, security, casino staff, not to mention groundskeepers, maintenance, etc. On paper, it all looks good for the town.

Better for Joshua Foster, of course. "But I think you'll agree, the benefits to the community far outweigh one man's petty old grievances."

'Or the deaths of two people' Jessica thinks to herself. Definitely not saying that one out loud. Yet. "Without witnesses, Mr. Foster, I'm sure that the case, based purely on the scientific evidence, will be dismissed. I have to admit to being surprised that the judge wished to continue the case. You don't have a history with the judge as well, do you?" That last question asked in a completely joking way.

"Mind if I get a copy of the figures?" she asks while browsing them. "It all looks very impressive. This casino you will obviously own yourself...the first of many I am sure. The Quinault weren't concerned with any conflict of interest? They're not concerned you won't be taking away any of their customers, or do you think that the market will be ever expanding?"