Inside, the Caribbean sun shines on a large room, part parlor and parlor dining room. Stale smells of food waft from a small kitchen. The rooms are overfilled with furniture, some imported from Europe, some made locally and of a far lower quality.

Gibbs looks around, taking inventory, even though he has no intent of taking anything so large.

"Yes, Duvall has been living well. Almost makes me wish I were a merchant with connections to the black market and the French pirates." He walks towards the next room and opens the door.