Chapter 14

“Royalty, Lord, it looked good on me.
Buried in silk in the royal boudoir,
or going nuclear free.
Or playing Crokinole with the Princess of Monaco.
Telling my jokes to the OPEC leaders,
getting it all on video.”
-Moxy Früvous, “King of Spain“

Generalissimo Hernando Ramirez received his call ten minutes before the end of the meeting. An empty office was found nearby for him to take it. Thankfully, the office had a convenient ash tray. He hung his jacket on the back of the chair, took out a cigarette, and lit it while his assistant connected the call.

“I can guess what this is about, Hernando,” Detective Inspector Luc Allaine of Interpol, the voice on the other end of the phone said, speaking English with a French accent. “I have been watching the news. How is she?”

“They’re closing her up for now,” Ramirez said with a puff of his cigarette. “The intestinal damage has been seen to, but they say it is a waiting game whether or not they were able to save her liver or must go back in. In a few hours, they may have better news. I will know more when I return to the hospital. Until then; yes, Luc, I need you to dredge up a possible ghost for me.”

“The man in the white windbreaker?” Ramirez could hear Allaine taking a drag of his own cigarette on the other end. “The tourist video did not give much. Left-handed was all I could get from his back.”

“Si. I have more for you from my angle, Old Man.” Ramirez propped his feet on whoever’s desk he was using before continuing. “The man was deaf and he had a shuffle to his step, as if the right side of his body may have been weaker than the left. White, late 50s, balding. Nothing else I could distinguish about him at the time. There was also a broken vial found at the scene. We haven’t identified the contents yet.”

“Hmm...” Allaine thought. “Assuming it was his, if he had a medical condition, it may have been medication for it. Or a drug. A touch of Bolivian Courage before the deed? But non, if it were something he needed, why wait until that moment to take it? Would it not need time to kick in? Why not take it before, then discard the bottle instead of saving it until the last second?”

“Poison, maybe? No other substances were found on the broken blade.”

“Possible, the old poisoned blade trick is good for the movies; in reality, hardly practical. I do not wish to hear about things that I should not know, old friend, but I am certain that in your career with Le Ultimados, you have had cause to stab a man at one time or another.” Although he could not be seen over the phone, Ramirez nodded. “You do not stab him once and leave the knife inside the body long enough for a poison to take effect; you remove the knife and stab him again, non? And the the blood is coming out of the wound instead of circulating through the body. Any poison would be expelled with it. A glass blade might break off in the body, and perhaps then, it could take effect, but it is not something to chance. A professional would know this. So a contingency, maybe. There was some confusion beforehand, no? The maid in the video caused a distraction.”

“Si. That was Jeanne Carpentier, La Contessa’s personal maid. She is no suspect. It was an honest, if conveniently-timed accident that hindered his plan more than anything.”

“Ah, Oui. You just had to say that she was French, Old Man. Oui, the crowd around him turns to see; bumping and jostling occurs. If our man had a physical weakness on his right side, as you suggest, he may have been unable to hold onto the vial. Now, like any good customer service, I must ask you the obvious question, Hernando: You were there with your gun; why did you not shoot? This ‘Bystander Effect’ satisfies the press, oui. But I think there is more.”

Allaine was typing on the other end of the line and couldn’t see Ramirez’s face redden a bit.

“I was...” Ramirez took a puff of his cigarette to think. “It is difficult to say; I certainly cannot over the telephone.”

“If that is your way of piquing my curiosity and drawing me into the investigation, Hernando, it is working. Un moment, le micro is thinking.”

Luc muttered French curses at the computer until the results came back empty. “No one active in our system. But you didn’t expect that either, did you? You said, ‘possible ghost, ‘ at the beginning of the conversation.”

“Si. I think the man we’re looking for dropped off your radar a while back. We’re looking for someone who WAS a pro, say, 20 years ago.”

“I see, a good time to be a young man good with a knife to be seeking work.” Allaine typed again. “You’re thinking someone who achieved every young criminal’s goal: the fabled ‘big enough score to get out of the game young.’ Come back for one last hurrah?”

“Whoever he was, he walked into the castle with the tour group, knowing he would not come out alive. And he made no threats, before or during. I do not think this was ego or politics.”

“Your thought about his injury, if it affects the motor skills on the right side of his body, it may well be a brain injury rather than a physical one.”

Ramirez finished his cigarette as he thought.

“Si. That might also cause him to lose his hearing.”

“Oui. I’ve just sent an email to the right people to go through some inactive files on this. Hmm ... a brain injury that afflicted him so, he has probably seen experts and specialists.” More typing followed. “Schön Klink in Germany appears to have the top people in the world. He’s probably been more than once; no doubt under an assumed name. Perhaps he’s gotten sloppy enough to use an old alias as well.” Luc did some more typing. “They have seventeen facilities around the country. Two are in Munich, that seems the place to start. Once I hear back, I’ll wake some people in Munich and put them on this.”

“I doubt that I shall sleep much, myself, Old Man. I shall await your call.

“A bientot, then.” And with that, Allaine ended the call.

Ramirez leaned back in the office chair and stretched out for a moment before he heard a loud squeal coming from the Palace wing of the castle. He jumped to his feet, grabbed his gun, and ran toward the noise.

Contessa-In-Reggenza Maria Louisa Francesca de San Finzione walked out of the meeting room where she’d just met with her top advisers and shown them, in no uncertain terms, that they were not dealing with the little girl they saw scamper around the castle as a child, but a woman with the strength and confidence to handle her Great-Grandmama’s job for however long was needed.

She left the meeting and turned toward the Palace wing, where La Familia’s residences were located, when she saw a woman being escorted by two palace guards. When she recognized Susan Bailey as the woman they were escorting, she let out a loud, girlish squeal and ran between the two guards, wrapping her arms around the slightly-older woman in a giant hug that very nearly became a tackle.

Although Susan wasn’t one for such displays, she returned the hug with just as much enthusiasm.

The two guards saluted and one of them spoke in English.

“Contessa, this woman says that she is a friend of yours. It is very important that we bring her to you. My Contessa will be very pleased to see her. I want to serve my Contessa.”

Maria didn’t break the hug, but backed away to look Susan in the face quizzically.

“I’m still pretty new at all this,” Susan explained with a shrug. “You’ve got a REALLY big castle and, well, I was pretty sure I couldn’t just walk up to a castle and knock on the gate and ask if Maria’s home, so...” She turned to the guard. “Well done, soldier. You can see your Contessa is pleased. Back to your post.”

“Si,” Contessa Maria told them. “You have done well.”

Smiling, the two guards rounded the corner back toward the residence. Ramirez came running from the administrative wing, gun in hand and pointed downward, toward them. He stopped when he saw Maria break their embrace and take hold of Susan’s hand.

“Contessa,” he said to Maria. “I heard a cry.”

Maria beamed.

“Si, Generalissimo. A very important friend has arrived. This is Susan Bailey.” Maria looked behind her, as if expecting them to be just out of view, then turned to Susan. “And the others?”

“With Helen at the hospital. They’ll be here soon.”

Susan looked over at the Generalissimo, gun not pointed at her, but out and at the ready.

“Hi, I’m Susan. You must be Generalissimo Hernando Ramirez.” She looked at the gun. “Helen ... said I could trust you?”

The sun didn’t shine through the open balcony doors into the bedroom of the castle. It didn’t cast its beam across the marble floor, onto the Persian rug, across the king-sized bed, or onto the face of Contessa Helena de San Finzione, because there was nothing outside the version of La Contessa’s bedroom where Helena and Suzy-Q lay in bed, playfully stroking each other’s hair and planting little kisses on each other’s face and neck as they spoke.

“Shouldn’t I have woken up by now,” Helena asked Suzy-Q. “I mean, we figured out there’s probably a bomb, that’s the sort of thing that does it on TV. Learned a few things with someone,” she cupped Suzy-Q’s breast for emphasis. “Whom, I must admit, it would be nice to be THIS friendly with her ... Hey, what is Susan to you, anyway? Your boss? Is is like that animated movie about the emotions in the little girl’s head? Is she Capo di Tutti Capi? How does it work?”

Suzy-Q thought a moment and idly stroked Helen’s pussy before while she thought.