The Karl Lehman Affair

by Jonathan R Hayes

  ‘Je vous en prie, Nicole. Now I must prepare for a visit to Moscow.’

  ‘Moscow? How long will you be gone?’

  ‘Only for three days. I'm leaving tomorrow morning, back on Friday. I have to meet Prof Obolensky and compare notes on some technical matters,’

  ‘Do be careful Harry.’

  ‘Don't worry yourself about me. Besides I'm more worried about leaving you here on your own. Tell you what! I'll get Cora to stay over for the two nights I'm away.’

  ‘That would be nice Harry. Merci!’

  ‘Don’t worry Nicole. Nobody knows you’re in Cornwall. You’ll be quite safe here.’

  66

  ‘What the fuck do ya mean yah’ didn’t do the Philips job?’ roared Lazare springing to his feet and glaring at Bonnet.

  There was dead silence in the room. Bonnet had warned his men about Lazare. He was expecting to hear the click of a safety catch by one of his Generals.

  ‘Like I said’ continued Bonnet as cool as ice ‘We didn’t do the job. We did all the meticulous planning and preparation. We mobilized all our people. By the time we got close to the apartment, the job was done by someone else! The place was crawling with cops. My men headed for the hills.’

  Lazare stood there staring at Bonnet in total silence. What does this mean? Who else wanted Philips dead? What else did Bonnet and his men not do? Will Bonnet’s men get to Nicole Lehman first? A thousand questions were spinning around in Lazare’s brain as he slowly sank back down in his chair.

  One of Bonnet’s ‘Generals’ had put his hand inside his jacket, now took it back out again.

  ‘This is a total game changer, Jacques. You should have let me know immediately. ‘

  ‘I tried to get to you through Pierre here, but you were not in a hurry to meet up with me face to face, Henri.’

  ‘Are there any other things you didn’t do along the way Jacques?’

  ‘We did everything else Henri, as agreed,’ reassured Bonnet while sounding faintly uncomfortable. ‘Lehman has been taken care of. You know all about that.’

  ‘Who got to Philips first?’

  ‘I have no idea Henri. Perhaps he made enemies or got involved in some business deal that went badly wrong. Maybe his old lady got him bumped off?’

  ‘Hardly! He was a widower. No! Nothing what you suggest makes any sense. Philips was a Doctor, a dedicated researcher. People like that don’t get bumped off. I don’t know. I just have a hunch there is some organization behind all this. We need to watch our backs.’

  Bonnet now feeling more comfortable replied, ‘Oui Henri!’ ‘We now need to talk money. I’m ain’t paying you guys for jobs not done by you.’

  ‘Henri, a far more pressing matter is the question of further involvement by us on our doorstep here in France. Nicole Lehman is on every news channel and newspaper on the continent. She is high profile and I believe too high profile to try and kidnap.’

  ‘This is why I travelled to Europe Jacques, to discuss the next phase of the job. Now things have become much more complicated by your news.’

  Lazare remained silent, increasing the tension in the room before continuing in a slow determined voice.

  The Generals sat upright in their seats at the ready.

  ‘All I need is for your boys here to travel to Cornwall in England, grab the Lehman dame and hold onto to her for two fuckin weeks. No rough stuff. The final documentation will be submitted to the Securities and Exchange Commission in New York in two weeks’ time and then we’ll be home and dry and you’ll get your cut as originally agreed despite not having done the Philips job.’

  ‘It’s much riskier now Henri. I need double the money,’

  ‘You fuckin’ schmuck Bonnet. Your family owes me big time, ‘asserted Larchet. ‘You committed to helping out with the financial difficulty we’re having in New York. We then come over here and find out you haven’t done half the fuckin’ work and now you want double the fuckin’ money.’

  Lazare stood up, walked across the room, grabbed Bonnet by the lapels of his jacket and shouted in his face. ‘Too fuckin right! Get fuckin’ real Jacques.’

  Gaston, no second invitation needed, jumped to his feet pulling out a pistol and pointed it at Lazare’s head.

  Larchet, sitting in front of him, at the exact same time, pulled a semi-automatic pistol from inside his jacket and stuck it into Bonnet’s abdomen. Bonnet backed off slightly, wincing in pain and going white in the face. Larchet kept the gun trained on Bonnet’s lower body.

  ‘A Mexican stand-off, Jacques?’ snapped Lazare in a strangely calm but chilling voice. ‘Interesting! Is this the way it‘s going to end; a pile of dead bodies on your Italian marble floor?’

  Despite being outnumbered, Lazare knew Larchet could cut down each and every one of Bonnets men with the weapon he carried in less than three seconds. There simply was nobody faster than Peter Larchet and his FN 5-7.

  Lazare was no slouch himself. He knew he could knock the gun from Gaston’s hand. This would be the signal for Larchet to open-up. Both men would leave the room untouched and five men would be dead. Lazare realized serious business had to get done. Having a shoot-out would achieve nothing. He had to stop Nicole Lehman and her Doctor associate in their tracks or he was done for.

  ‘OK Jacques. I will pay you fifty per cent more. Not a penny more.’

  The color came back into Jacques’s face. ‘You’ve got a deal Henri.’

  Gaston slowly lowered his weapon. Larchet followed, lowering his pistol and replacing it inside his jacket.

  ‘I will get my guys to do the job. But this is it, the final part. It’s getting too risky now, requiring 24/7 involvement.’

  ‘I need the subject lifted within seventy-two hours from today,’ insisted Lazare while reminding everyone about the urgency of the situation.

  Bonnet was troubled and stared at Lazare. ‘That is very difficult.’

  Lazare reached down and lifted-up the large suitcase and placed it on the table. Gaston looked nervous and placed his hand near his holster. Larchet quickly stepped in and opened the case and displayed a suitcase full of one hundred-dollar bills amounting to two and a half million U.S. dollars.

  ‘This is a top up payment Bonnet to the seven and a half I already paid you. The balance will be paid on completion of the job.’

  Bonnet looked at the money and nodded, ‘It can be done.’

  ‘Then we have a deal,’ declared Lazare closing the suitcase and pushing it across the table to Bonnet.

  Lazare stood up and proceeded to spread documents out on the table in front of him.

  ‘Here is the address of the house and a map of the area. It’s in Cornwall, England. These are photographs of Nicole Lehman and her associate, Dr. Harry Parker. Deal with him as you see fit. Take him out if necessary but don’t hurt the Lehman woman.’

  Shortly afterwards, Lazare and Larchet departed Bonnet’s Vineyard, skipping the hospitality offered earlier by Bonnet and headed straight for Nice Airport. They boarded a direct flight back to New York two hours later.

  The next day Bonnet sat in his study alone. His Generals had dispersed to their various regions in France after the visitors from New York had departed. He went to pick up his desk phone to make a call when it started ringing.

  ‘Yeh? Bonnet speaking.’

  ‘It’s Colgo.’

  ‘What do you want?’ replied Bonnet indignantly.

  ‘We need to talk, Partner.’

  ‘Don’t Partner me. Listen to me my friend, I did all the talking I needed to do with your boss yesterday.’

  ‘From where I’m standin’ not enough was said to Henri.’

  ‘What the fuck are you talking about?’

  ‘Listen to me, schmuck. Ya….’

  ‘Don’t you schmuck me. Who the fuck do you think you’re talkin’ to you fuckin’ ass hole,’ screamed Bonnet down the phone line. ‘I’m Jacques Bonnet, boss of the biggest Corsican mafia family in France. I have hundreds of soldiers under me,
six Generals, each one ten times a better operator than you, ya fuckin knuckle head.’

  ‘Listen to me you cock sucking mothafucka, I ‘appen to know for cert’in you and your men are gettin’ off real lightly in dis whole deal.’

  ‘What you fuckin’ talking about?’ snapped Bonnet starting to sound tired of talking to Colgo.

  ‘My boss Henri is payin’ ya more den ten million bucks to take care o’ some people over der and you have been leavin’ it to others to do dah dirty work.’

  ‘What! You’re talking shit,’ shot back Bonnet getting a little apprehensive but not showing it.

  ‘Ya fuckin’ know what I’m talkin’ abou’ Bonnet.’

  ‘How do you know anything about what we do here in Europe?’

  ‘Let’s just say I’m paid to know dese things.’

  ‘You know fuck nothing.’

  ‘Ya didn’t take out Philips.’

  ‘We discussed all that with Lazare yesterday.’

  ‘Yah didn’t take out Lehman e’da.’

  Bonnet remained in stunned silence on the end of the phone.

  ‘Yah didn’t torch the medical clinic in Zurich e’da. Lazare knows nothin’ about any of dis.’

  ‘Merde! Fuck! How can you know anything about our operations from where you’re based in New York? Who have you been talking to?’

  ‘I neve’ give away my sources, Bonnet.’

  ‘Are you mixed up with some rival gang, Colgo?’

  ‘That’s crap. I’m a businessman. I work for Henri and Peter, no on’ else.’

  ‘Well your information is all wrong.’

  ‘Bonnet, I’m gettin’ tired of dis conversation. If yah want to start a wa’ with Henri, keep talkin’ dis crap.’

  Bonnet was getting more frustrated, but he knew the game was up. He knew the scumbag had the facts about his operations, but he couldn’t figure out how he got his information.

  ‘OK. Each time we meticulously set up the hits, somebody got there before us. That wasn’t our fault.’

  ‘Yah should ‘ave said sumptin to Henri about dis and agreed anothe’ deal.’

  ‘Henri would not have understood. I can’t understand what’s going on myself.’

  ‘Tell yah wha Bonnet, I’ll cut yah a deal. The work is gettin’ done and Lazare is kinda’ happy. Things are movin’ on all fronts. So, yah pay me twenty per cent o’ wha’ you’re gettin’ from Lazare and we’ll let sleepin’ dogs lie. What d’yah say?’

  Bonnet was between a rock and a hard place. He utterly despised Colgo for leaning on him like this. He would seek to square the circle later where the muscleman was concerned. In the meantime, he had no choice. He would have to co-operate with this ass hole. His information was spot on. What worried Bonnet most was Colgo’s ‘business’ connections behind the scenes that put him in the know.

  ‘I will pay you five per cent, not a penny more.’

  ‘No chance. Why don’t I forget all about dis call and tell me boss about what’s goin’ on over der?’

  This was certainly one negotiation Jacques Bonnet was not going to win. Despite Colgo’s threats, Bonnet stuck to his guns and decided he would need to get face to face with this mothafucka to sort things out, preferably on his own patch in France.

  ‘Five per cent. That’s my final offer.’ He abruptly hung up on the muscleman from NYC.

  Colgo pulled the gun from his holster and grasping it firmly in his right hand, punched the air several times in total rage. ‘This guy is pissin’ me off BIGTIME,’ roared Colgo.

  67

  Parker collected his tickets from the BA ticket desk and got his suitcase marked with 'Diplomatic Immunity' status. He sat in a corner of the departure lounge in Heathrow and read the briefing notes emailed from Hadley earlier in the morning

  He was to meet with Obolensky in Moscow and get the inside track on the KOO. Hadley warned him that the professor was being closely watched by very dangerous people who had already killed several high profile medical professionals over the previous eighteen months. Covert arrangements were continuing behind the scene by MI6 to arrange the meeting between the two at some secret location.

  The flight was called on time. Parker boarded the aircraft and enjoyed a smooth flight, arriving in Moscow just before two o'clock in the afternoon.

  He checked into his hotel room at four thirty, had a shower and lay on the bed thumbing through the hotel magazine when the house phone rang.

  ‘There’s a parcel for you here at reception Dr. Parker. Shall I send it up to your room?’

  ‘No! I’ll come down and collect it thank you.’

  He immediately went down and collected the parcel, booked a table by a window for dinner at six-thirty pm and casually walked around the ground floor area checking the general layout of the building if he should have to leave in a hurry. He went back to his room and opened the parcel. Inside he found ammunition for the PX4, a marked-up Google map and a note from a Diplomat in the British Embassy in Moscow.

  ‘Dr. Parker, Subject will be at the location marked on the map at 9 pm this evening’

  He left his room and went down to the lounge and sat on a stool at the bar. He ordered a cognac on ice. The lounge was quite busy at this time of the evening with foreign businessmen entertaining their Russian clients. A blond young woman sauntered across to Parker and sat down close to him on the next stool.

  The woman with most beautiful green eyes held up an unlit cigarette. ‘Have you got a light?’

  ‘Don’t they have a smoking ban in bars over here yet?’

  ‘Not that I am aware of.’

  ‘I’m afraid I don’t smoke but I can get….’

  The woman suddenly produced a silver cigarette lighter from her camel haired bag, held it up in front of him and lit it.

  He was now becoming intrigued by this Russian beauty who spoke perfect English in a soft Russian accent.

  ‘That’s a seriously bad habit you have.’

  ‘I’m afraid I have very many bad habits.’

  ‘What is your name?’

  ‘Maria’

  ‘Well Maria, would drinking alcohol be one of them?’

  ‘Oh yes.’

  ‘What would you like to drink?’

  ‘I never accept drinks from a man whose name I do not know’

  ‘Harry, Harry Parker.’

  ‘Well then Harry Parker, I will have Vodka on Ice.’

  ‘Bartender, vodka on ice.’

  Parker looked around the room and everybody seemed to be minding their own business.

  ‘Are you from around these parts, Maria?’

  ‘No, I’m from St. Petersburg about two hundred miles from here. And you Mr. Parker, you sound like you are from Britain?’ suggested the Russian beauty sipping her vodka.

  ‘Correct, I live in London. What do you do for a living, Maria?’

  ‘I studied music at University. I’m a boring old Cellist in an Orchestra.’

  ‘You’re certainly not old and you are most definitely not boring.’

  ‘What do you do, Harry?’

  ‘I’m a boring old Doctor, Maria’

  ‘Now look who’s being over modest.’

  Maria stood up unexpectedly, put her arms around Parker’s shoulders and kissed him on the lips. Parker taken by surprise was beginning to enjoy this unexpected encounter.

  ‘Would you like another drink, Maria?’

  ‘Yes, why not.’

  He ordered the drink and heard his name called out on the hotel’s public address. ‘Will Dr. Parker please call to reception.’

  ‘Excuse me Maria. I won’t be a moment.’

  He went to the hotel desk and the receptionist told him there was a mix-up in his booking. He was given a ‘smoking’ room instead of ‘non-smoking’.

  ‘Would you like to change rooms Dr. Parker?’

  ‘No. That won’t be necessary.’

  When he returned to the bar, two drinks were sitting on the counter. Maria was nowhere to be seen.


  He waited a few minutes thinking she may have gone to powder her nose.

  He called the Bartender. ‘Excuse me. Did you see a blond lady leave? She was sitting right here a few minutes ago.’

  ‘Yes Sir. I saw her leave about two minutes ago. She went out the side door of the hotel. Look over there.’ The bartender pointed to a glass partition, which afforded a view of the side entrance lobby.

  Parker realized she left immediately he had gone to the reception desk.

  ‘Very strange.’ He would have to be more careful. He decided to go straight in for dinner and thought little more about his encounter with the vivacious but mysterious Maria.

  After his early evening meal, he returned to his room. He took out the Beretta pistol from his suitcase, loaded it and put it inside his jacket pocket. He slipped out of the Hotel shortly afterwards and took a taxi to the place where he was to meet Obolensky.

  It was pitch dark when Parker alighted from the taxi. There was no moonlight to compensate for the dimly lit street; the street lamps only emitting a dim amber glimmer. The taxi pulled away leaving him alone in the darkness. He walked slowly down the footpath following the directions given in the map, stopping every so often to check he wasn't being followed. Whoever might be following him surely needed a vehicle. No vehicles appeared. The street was empty, not a murmur could be heard save for the distant sound of a dog barking. The location was a light industrial zone with warehouses, workshops and garages lining the street. He soon arrived in front of a small church flanked by tall warehouses on either side. It had the appearance of a building that was closed for renovation. Scaffolding had been erected across its entire front. Parker tried the door. He turned the large bronze doorknob and pushed against the door. It opened surprisingly easily but with a loud creaking sound. 'Early warning system' thought Parker for anyone inside. He entered a pitch black inner Narthex, leading to a thinly lit Nave. He could make out a rounded figure with a cap pulled down over the face, seated in a pew about half way along the main aisle on the left. He carefully approached and sat down beside the figure.

  ‘Dmitri?’ He whispered.

  ‘Doctor Parker?’