Constantin told me once Lintorff was rich like the devil and paranoid to a crazy point, seeing betrayals everywhere. His personal fortune was twice as much as Constantin's and he had hedge funds, banks worth five hundred billion, without counting the extent of the Order's illegal operations as they “process” the money coming from every gangster in Europe, reinvesting their winnings into industry and finance. They were even working part time with the Russians till the problem with Morozov.
I heard a soft knock on my door and I opened it to find Lintorff standing there. I was shocked, but moved aside to let him in. He inspected the room briefly but thoroughly.
“Is everything to your liking, Guntram?”
“Yes, sire. Thank you.”
“Anything you might need, ask Friederich. Are you sure you want to drive to Zurich now? I've just spoken on the phone with Dr. Wagemann and he informed me that your condition is more serious than I originally estimated. You should have not even travelled for so long. You should rest today and tomorrow. I apologise for my rudeness last night.”
“Sire, I don't want to cause any more troubles than necessary. I'll go now and rest tomorrow if you agree to it,” I added the last part as no matter how polite and nice he sounds, he's my jailer.
“As you prefer Guntram. Perhaps it would be good if you go with Goran and choose some painting material so you can stay inside the house for the next week. None of us knows a thing about pencils or papers. The doctor says that you should not be out in the cold. It's only till your body adjusts to the weather.”
“I understand, Sire.”
“You can call me Konrad. We are going to live under the same roof for some time and the best would be that we reach some sort of understanding between us. I have no ill thoughts against you or your line nor a bad disposition toward you personally. I give you my word that I will do whatever is in my hands to make you feel comfortable around us. My problems with Repin should not affect you.”
“What will happen if you don't collect your debt in a year?”
“You're very mistaken if you're thinking that the minute he does not pay me I will kill you and send your body to him. This is not the Russian Mafia. I will consider that he has lost any claims on you and keep you with me.
You're a member of the Order and have never risen against me; therefore it's my duty to protect you. Regardless of what that criminal might have told you about us, we operate under strict codes and harming a hostage is a very serious crime against our beliefs. Not all of our brothers are involved in finance or industry. Some of us are placed in governments, scientific organizations, universities or the performing arts as they play a key role in our society. We will find something for you to do, Guntram.”
“Thank you, Sire.”
“Konrad,” he corrected me mildly, but in a scary way. He's not a nice man no matter how polite he looks. Constantin says he's vicious when he kills. “Pavicevic will come in an hour with your personal bodyguard. You will obey all his commands if you want to leave the residence. Is that understood?”
“Yes, sire… Constantin, Konrad I mean.” Old habits die hard. Constantin bosses me exactly as him.
“Try not to mistake me with that man. Rest till four,” he ordered coldly and left the room. I collapsed on the bed, never so tired in my life but at quarter to four, I rose and washed my face, ready to continue with the charade.
Unsure, I took the stairs down and stood at the bottom of the stairwell, not knowing what to do or where to go.
Fortunately, Friederich in “civilian” clothes, a dark brown tweed jacket and matching trousers and an aristocratic expression, came out of nowhere and told me to go to the library as the Duke was already with Pavicevic and Antonov. He must have taken pity on my lost expression because he led me through the long corridor, passing the big living room, the ballroom and dining room, toward the library, a room with large windows overlooking the garden and the snow. Lintorff was sitting behind his desk and the other two men standing in front of him. One was a huge blond, with a baby face and contagious smile.
“Come over here, Guntram. This is Alexei Gregorevich Antonov and he will take care of you. Obey him in everything. He received medical training in the Red Army as your health is so poor at the moment. He will be with you on a permanent basis and will be staying in the rooms next to yours.”
“How do you do, Mr. Antonov?” I said, gulping at the thought that the giant, well jailer would be with me all the time. There's no chance I can outrun him and speak with Constantin.
“Hello Guntram. I'm pleased to meet you.”
“Antonov will stay here while I speak with him. You can go now with Pavicevic and Friederich, Guntram,” he dismissed me.
“Thank you… Konrad,” I added in haste after he looked at me with certain fury for not using his name.
Lintorff’s short temper is well-known. It even reaches Russia.
The butler sat next to me in the big Audi and took me to the tailor's shop but it looked more like an atelier. Friederich gave me in the car a small book and showed me the things I should look from the highway. Goran and the driver were in front and silent the entire journey. I caught him inspecting me several times in the rear view mirror. The shop was in an elegant building near the big lake and the train station. It had no front window at all, and when you entered it was like an elegant flat. Friederich and an old man went with me into a private room and the tailor only took measures from me as the butler was softly speaking with him in German. I have no idea of what they said to each other but at some point he told me: “Guntram, do you want to take a walk around with Mr. Pavicevic?
Mr. Arendt has to organize the packages and it might take some time. It becomes very cold after sunset.”
“Yes, Friederich.”
Goran silently led me to a near stationary shop. Very elegant and full of expensive things. He simply ordered me. “Get what you need for painting at home for a week or two. You will be staying in the castle till we organize your activities.”
“What should I get?”
“Whatever you like. Pencils, paper, chalks or acrylics. I don't know.”
“An A4 ream and 12 colour pencils would be fine. I can use old newspapers,” I said, after meditating and he growled at me, yes he did.
“Madam, could you give him a good set of pencils, over ninety colours, some sketch pads in different sizes, charcoals, a set of graphite pencils. Do you prefer watercolours or acrylics? Friederich will kick you out of the house if you bring oil paints in your first week.
“It's too…” His killer's look made me be quiet. “Watercolours,” I whispered.
“Add the proper kind of paper and brushes for that, too.” He finished the shopping under the woman's big opened eyes. She looked for the things and made a big pile… ten different size pads? Does he plan to make me paint the Sistine? Without looking at the final number, which must be really high because the pencils were Caran d'Ache and it was a wood box set of one hundred twenty-four colours and the watercolours also, Goran signed the receipt and took the three bags.
“Do you want a coffee? No, you can't have one. A tea or a chocolate then,” he asked me, surprising me a little. He's not supposed to be nice to me. I'm his hostage or guarantor as they called me last night. “Friederich might be busy for some time. He'll call me when he's finished.”
“I don't know.”
“Good, we go to Sprüngli. It's around the corner and all tourists love it. The cherry cake is good.”
I followed him meekly. I know better than to argue with one of them. He ordered me a tea and some cherry cake. “Chocolate might be too much. Once the doctors clear you, you can have it.”
I took care of my cake and kept silent while he studied me. “You're truly quiet. Were you before like that or is it because you're nervous to be here?”
“I don't talk much and hear less. Don't want to know what all of you are up to,” I replied and he chuckled.
“Good idea when you're around Repin.
You really didn't know who he was?”
“When I met him, he was the owner of a big oil conglomerate and several transport companies. I never asked what he was doing as it's impolite to question people about money. He told me he had a foundation for helping artists and likes art a lot. He didn't want me at the beginning because he said I was the type who wants to stay for long. I don't know how, but I fell for him and when you're in love, you don't ask much. You just want people to be perfect and he was for me. He was always very considerate to me and supported me much more than financially.
Sometimes, I think that the heart attack was more due to finding out who he was than because of the attack,” I whispered and I still wonder why did I tell those things to a perfect stranger.
“Don't you love him any more?”
“That's none of your business!” I growled but he only looked at me. “I used to love him a lot, but now, I don't know any longer. I dislike and hate his private ventures. How can he sell weapons that he knows are going to kill women and children in Africa? What about those poppy seeds? And the prostitution? Lord, some of them even buy children for that! But you're no better than them. Only look more legal and respectable. Happy now?” I said contemptuously and he remained silent for some minutes, musing about something.
“Pavel, my brother used to think like that. He was a good pianist, but he was killed during the war in 1995. He never wanted to be in the Order and I respected his wish, although my uncle Mladic made an enormous pressure to get him in. He was twelve years younger and I took care of him since he was thirteen when our father died in an ambush against the Duke in 1989.”
“I'm sorry, I didn't want to hurt you.”
“You didn't. It's over. You two are so similar, not physically but in the way you think, your experiences and how you act. You remind me of him a lot. The Croat tortured him and left him to die in the forest as revenge to me.
He was dead when I found him and I have prayed to God many times for a chance to redeem myself for his death. He was a truly innocent boy and had nothing to do with my business.”
“It's horrible,” I whispered, feeling very sick but sad at the same time.
“There are no neutral grounds in this, Guntram. You have experienced it already. You were in love with Repin, but his wife decided to get rid of you and you paid the consequences of his infidelity and lack of vision. It's true that we have to deal with some people like Repin but it's not the norm. We get money from them, but the main objective of the Order is to support its members in their legitimate business. We keep them under control and they obey us. This is a safe place to live compared to other places in the world. Among us, you are safer than with Repin even if you don't want to believe us. They're gangsters and we are not.”
“Forgive me if I can't tell the difference,” I smirked.
“We live under a code and we respect each other. None of us would go against a brother because the punishment is terrible. What you suffered is unthinkable in our brotherhood.”
“Constantin told me that the Duke was almost deposed when Morozov went against him. He also told me that four of his associates were murdered. My whole family was killed too.”
“Executed for treason, yes, not sadistically raped or forced you to choose your own execution method.
We don't cause pain unless it's necessary. Under our codes, your relationship with Repin would have been a private matter and never be judged. Olga Fedorovna got help from Repin's associates because they wanted to weaken him.
She didn't act alone. You're a target for them, especially now that he's very weakened after the Duke attacked him because of Morozov's little war. His execution only stopped that his Excellency would have gone one step further.
They're at a stalemate, recovering and bidding their times to attack each other again, Guntram.”
“Why do you tell me all this?” I said desperately. This is not my game at all!
“So you know the game. You're part of it now, whether you like it or not. You can't leave it, only choose a side and pick your allies. I'm willing to help you and the Duke too. We took your side in the voting to take you in or not, Guntram. Trust him, he has a lot of integrity and is a good friend to his friends, but you will have to earn his trust, too. He considers you part of our circle—if not he wouldn't have said “ward” to refer to you—and our first rule is no lies among us.”
“Why would he do that? He killed my family.”
“Your family, not your father. He committed suicide as he was very sick with cancer. I have his medical reports from St. Sulpice hospital in Paris. The same type as your grandmother had. He saved the Duke's life by telling Ferdinand von Kleist where to look for traitors. We found it out when we got his personal papers, hidden in a safe box in Geneva. Your uncles sold the whole Order to some press reporters and attacked his Excellency. My own father died in that ambush trying to save his life. It's an irony that the same people who took a part of my life, give it back now.
Our Lord's ways are unfathomable, Guntram.”
“Mr. Pavicevic, we leave now,” Friederich interrupted us with a very stern face and then, he said something in German to him.
“I'm glad you share my view Mr. Elssäser,” Goran said very seriously and threw a fifty francs note over the table.
Back in the Castle it was about dinner time and Lintorff ordered to have it in the small dinning room like lunch. Again I had to sit at his left side while a butler served us.
“Did you like Zurich?” he asked casually.
“Yes, it's very beautiful, sir, I mean, Konrad.”
“Did you walk around?”
I pondered for a second about lying to him, but it seemed to be a bad idea. Probably the other would tell him later. “No Konrad.” He seemed pleased that I had used his Christian name. “I had a coffee with Mr. Pavicevic.
He told me about his dead brother, that my family killed his father, that you had taken me into the “inner circle” and would not lie to me.”
“I'm surprised that Goran has spoken so much. Must be his longest talk of the year. Normally, he only tells a few words. He must be very fond of you.”
“Is it true?”
“What?”
“That you won't lie to me?”
“Yes, I have no reason to.”
“Did my father go against his own family?”
“He was against the ones who tried to depose me. Their ruling might had been much worse than mine.
He realised this and put Ferdinand on the right track. He never said a word against his family. We discovered it thanks to him, but technically, he never informed me. In fact, he gave you to me as a way to atone for his deeds against the Order and I took his offer because I didn't want the others to attack a small child. When I informed the Council about my decision, I said that you were going to be my ward; therefore you were officially part of my line; untouchable so to speak. Your father was many things but never a traitor.”
“What kind of a person was he?”
“I don't know. No one knows. He never spoke about anything, but worked fine as he was a brilliant lawyer. Very stern, determined and serious. Lived almost like a monk and we could never find what he had done with the money he was obviously earning at the bank. How he got it into Argentina for you is a mystery that he took to his grave.”
“Why didn't he tell you where I was?”
“I don't know, perhaps he didn't trust me enough. After all, he didn't know me at all. We were never friends. He was some sort of outcast by his own family as his father was furious when he rejected to marry a very rich woman from Germany at about your age. I know she went after him after your mother passed away, but he dismissed her once more, telling her he was already married. Many would have not resisted such an offer. He must have loved your mother very much, a love that lasts to the grave.”
“I never knew her. Did you?”
“No, she was not from our circle and he never introduced her to any of us. Ferdinand knew your fath
er better than I. Strangely, you look more like his younger brother, Roger. Must be the Guttenberg Sachsen blood in you, because Jerôme looked exactly like the Vicomte.”
“Could I have my photo album from Russia, please? It's the only thing I have left from my family, but you don't want anything from there.”
“I will try to get it from Repin.”
“Could I speak with him, please? He must be worried about me.”
“No. If I am satisfied with your behaviour, I will let you speak with him in the future.”
“Please, Duke, only a call to tell him I'm fine. I couldn't say good-bye to the children.”
“All right, perhaps tomorrow night, but I will be present,” he conceded.
“Thank you, Konrad,” I said softly, unsatisfied, but what else could I do?
After eating, he insisted that I remain in the library reading or drawing, as it was too early to go to bed and he had some papers to finish. I went to my room to look for a sketch pad and some pencils and found Friederich organizing some clothes in the closet. Back to the library, Lintorff ordered me to sit next to him on the big couch and I obeyed him, trying to put as much distance as possible. He left me alone for an hour or more, silently reading his papers first and then drinking and deeply thinking, probably a way to continue his war with Constantin or another person.
I think he's a twisted bastard even if he looks great for his age. He can't be more than fifty and has very noble, aristocratic features. His face is not symmetrical but very masculine and his ice blue eyes are very inquisitive.
Very tall, much more than Constantin, perhaps 6 foot 2 and a powerful body. I wonder if the story about him killing a man with only one brutal punch to the face is true as Mikhail told me. There are so many stories around! They even say that Constantin killed a woman in front of a man and forced him to eat her heart because he had betrayed him because of her! Probably is not true. Gangsters are like children, blowing everything out of proportion. Mikhail even told me once that one of Lintorff's men refused to behead a man and dared him to do it… and he did the three awaiting for “execution” plus the frustrated executioner. Lord! Things they tell! He's a bastard for forcing me to come here but come on! He looks like a prince who would have a nervous breakdown if his bespoken jacket or his Italian shoes were stained with blood!
Into the Lion's Den Page 30