by Nick Vellis
“Safe travels, my friends. I will miss you,” Tinos said.
“Thank you for all you’ve done, Tinos,” Ceres said.
“Thank you. I hope you come see Athens and Tinos again soon,” Tinos said.
The two travelers boarded the ferry. They waved to Tinos as the mainland and their friend faded in the dark. The men waving on deck faded into the distance as Tinos dialed his cell phone.
“They’re leaving on the Igoumenitsa ferry,” Tinos said “It lands at Corfu first, but I don’t think they’ll stay there. It’s six hours Brindisi, then on to Bari,” Tinos said.
“We’ll have it met. Were you able to find out about the woman?” the disembodied voice asked.
“She’s a widow in her seventies, name’s Arons, Anna Arons. Her husband was a banker.” Tinos said.
“Did you learn anything new while you were with them? What they are after, perhaps?”
“The American is trying to hire an Italian private investigator,” Tinos said.
“Did you get a name?” the voice continued with a hint of impatience.
“No, but he used the name Rossi when he left a message,” Tinos said.
“Come back to Athens, Tinos. There is nothing more you can do.”
“OK uncle,” Tinos said.
CHAPTER 15
The data screen on the wall read 201 km/h or 125 miles per hour as the high-speed train shot through the Italian countryside. The screen also told AJ they’d be in Milan in less than an hour. The six-hour crossing of the Ionian Sea on the Neptune Lines ferry was a peaceful respite for the two travelers. They’d easily cleared customs. Finding their train was easy, too. After more than three hours on the train, AJ was restless. He stared at his meager notes and shook his head.
“I can’t make any sense of this,” he grumbled.
Ceres, eyes closed beside him, grunted, and then said, “Now you know what I’ve been doing for years. Trying to make sense out of…” his voice trailed off. “Patience my boy, patience.”
Three seats behind the two travelers, a rough looking man made notes of his own and sent them as an email to his boss. The old one and his younger companion had been easy to spot as fewer than twenty people got off the ferry. From their haste, the watcher knew they’d be headed to catch a train. He’d bullied his way on to the express, and settled down for a snooze. There was nowhere to go for several hours and his counterparts in Milan were already alerted. He pushed back in his seat and closed his eyes.
A noise in the quiet cabin grabbed AJ’s attention and he realized it was his cell phone. He dug in his bag, at last coming up with the buzzing object.
“Buon giorno!” AJ said.
“Buon giorno!” a sultry voice said.
“Ah, Buon giorno! Questo e il signor Rossi,” AJ said in Italian
“Ciao! But you are not Italiano, and I suspect you are not Signor Rossi. You are the man who called me last night, are you not?” the woman responded coldly.
Surprised, AJ didn’t know how to respond and was still searching for words when the woman said, “Well Mr. not-Rossi, are you in Milan? You must have something urgent to discuss. Why don’t you come around to my office?”
“I am not yet in Milan. I arrive soon, but I will be glad to come to your office,” AJ replied.
“Do you know Milan?”
“No, I don’t.”
“All right, take a taxi. All the drivers know the golden triangle. It’s the center of the fashion district. I am nearby. The address is 2609 Via Gesu. I am on the second floor above the law office of Signor de Spiga. Where are you, the airport?”
“No, I’m still on a train. I arrive in… it looks like less than an hour.
“At that time, it will take 40 minutes to get to my office from the Grandistazioni. I will have food waiting for you. You’ll be hungry. Do you prefer coffee or café a latte? Coffee I think for you. You are American. Do you have questions, no? I see you. Ciao!”
“See you soon,” AJ replied, “Arrivederci,” but she was gone.
Their train arrived at 3 p.m. and AJ and Ceres quickly found a taxi. Traffic was heavy, but AJ found it not as confusing as Athens.
He recalled a similar discomfort when he’d visited Rome. This city had a different vibe than the capital, though. It was more robust. The drive took them north past the financial district where AJ saw many banks and corporation names he recognized. He hadn’t realized Milan was such a financial hub. Getting off the elevated highway they crawled, bumper to bumper, past parks and plazas all filled with people. Finally, the driver stopped in front of 2609 Via Gesu. It was forty-five minutes, door to door. This mysterious woman knew something about her city.
AJ and Ceres mounted a set of dark blue marble steps to an ornate door at the front of a four-story palazzo-style building. This one, like many others in the city center, now housed stylish offices rather than homes. They entered a bright formal hall where a polished wood floor gleamed under sunlight streaming from a window at the head of the stairs. They made their way to the second floor and stopped at a dark oak door with a simple brass plaque bearing the name G. Donatella.
AJ pushed the brass doorbell and almost immediately heard the buzz of an electric lock. He pushed the door open and entered an elegant dark wood-paneled reception area. Rich brocades on the furniture brought out the warmth of the floor that here, too, blazed golden. AJ and Ceres, puzzled, looked at each other, wondering where their hostess could be. AJ was about to call out when a sound drew his attention to the end of the room. Both their heads turned toward a door. It opened and a woman entered.
She was young, slender, and obviously fit with high, full breasts and long, tanned legs that seemed to go on forever. Luxurious, shoulder-length russet hair framed a delicate face with high cheekbones, small features, and dark eyes that sparkled with mischief. Her impassive face softened momentarily at AJ’s discomfort, then returned to an unreadable mask. A brilliant blue dress fastened snugly with a belt accentuated her slim waist. A dramatic plunging neckline and deeply slit skirt immediately caught AJ’s attention. Her figure was evidence of excellent genes, hours spent in the gym, or perhaps both.
Ceres spoke first, extended his hand to their hostess. He introduced himself then turned to AJ, who was still staring. Ceres shook AJ’s arm to get him back to reality.
“I’m sorry, signorina, I normally have better manners,” AJ said. "I was surprised to find such a beautiful woman in a private investigator’s office. Mi scusi per favore,” AJ said as he stepped forward. “I am AJ Pantheras.” AJ accepted his hostess’ hand. The hand was soft but the handshake surprisingly firm.
“And this is my good friend Ceres Savas.”
“He told me,” she said with a hint of laughter. Her eyebrows rose as a smile slowly spread across her face. The smile was there, lighting up the room, then gone in an instant. “Welcome, gentlemen, welcome to Milan,” her tone all business. “I’m Gia Donatella. And don’t worry, Mr. Pantheras, or is it Rossi? I’m used to men having trouble understanding I am G. Donatella. It’s not the first time. Come in, come in, you must be hungry,” Gia said with a smile as she spun on her heel and led the two men through to the main office. “I have pranzo, a light lunch for you,” she said over her shoulder, catching AJ’s eye.
An Italian mid-day meal of Caprese salad, cold cuts, and crusty bread was laid out on a credenza. A coffee urn and small espresso machine stood on a side table just behind the door.
“This is very kind. Thank you,” AJ said.
They hadn’t eaten since the night before, and Ceres immediately began sampling the buffet.
Gia drew herself a cappuccino and took a seat behind a considerable executive desk strategically placed at an angle to the room.
After AJ prepared a cup of coffee, he took a seat in front of Gia and tried not get lost in the depth of her eyes. When Ceres had taken a seat next to him, AJ began, “Signorina Donatella ...”
“Per favore, please, call me Gia.”
“Thank
you, Gia. My friend and I …”
“You and your friend have a problem, and you want some help,” Gia interrupted. “You see, Mr. Pantheras every story begins with someone looking for someone or something.”
“I see, so you know what we want already?” AJ drew the words out slowly, his irritation growing.
“I am a cautious woman. I have to be. Let me tell you about yourselves to show you how careful I am,” she began. “Your friend Mr. Savas is not Italian. He is Yugo, or perhaps Greek. He has lived in America judging by his clothes and his English. You are American, of course.”
“Of course,” AJ responded, his irritation quickly moving toward anger.
“Your Italian is fair,” Gia continued, “but your accent is wrong. What is the term? It’s too academic. Therefore, you learned the language in college or from tapes, perhaps. You are a professional man, finance, or law, I think. This I know from your clothes and from your bearing and impatience. Your clothes are expensive but understated and you expect to control a given situation. You have a problem outside your normal realm, this I know because you said you do not know Milan. Shall I go on?”
“No, thank you,” AJ responded. “I’ve heard enough. We have wasted enough of your valuable time. Thank you for the brunch, but we should be on our way.”
Ceres’ eyes told it all. In mid-bite, he tried to object as AJ stood to leave, but his mouth was full.
“Please sit, signore. I can be, at times, much too abrupt,” Gia apologized. “Now it is I who begs mi scusi per favore.”
AJ hesitated then regained his seat heavily. Ceres recovered his composure as he started in on another mouthful.
“So what, you always needle your potential clients? Try to see if they can put up with you?” AJ said.
“Something like that. Not an intentional slight, I assure. As you can imagine, I can get some pretty strange people who come through my door with even stranger problems.” Gia made quotation marks in the air around the word problems.
“I was referred to you because of the strength of your contacts and your discretion. I expect you to use both,” AJ said, trying to regain control of the conversation.
“I’ve surmised a good deal about you and your friend, Mr. Pantheras, but tell me, what or who do you seek?”
“How good are your contacts in Greece, signorina, and how much do you know about the most enduring mystery of the Second World War?”
“Don’t tell me you’re after Mussolini’s gold. Fools have been searching for decades. It’s a myth.”
“No, my dear, nothing like that,” Ceres said. “We are looking for justice. At least I am.”
“Have you heard of the Greek Holocaust?” AJ added.
“A little, there was so much tragedy in Southern Europe, hell, the entire world, during the war,” she replied. “You refer to the killing of the Jews, I assume.”
“That and much more,” Ceres began. “Let’s us say we search for a man or men who have committed untold evil, and our search seems to begin with a missing fortune.
Ceres related much of what he had recently told AJ. He ended his narrative with an impassioned defense of his wartime friend John Pantheras. “I cannot believe a man who was so kind to a small boy could do such a monstrous thing as steal an entire culture’s ransom,” Ceres said.
“Gentleman, that’s a fascinating story, but there must be a hundred post war rumors about hidden treasure, secrets, or someone’s secret bunker. Why is your tale different?” Gia said with a stony face. “Tell me? Then I will tell you if I will help. Remember, these events happened a generation ago,” Gia said.
AJ, having let the eyewitness tell his story spoke up. “We chose you because of your financial crimes contacts. If we’re right, the proceeds of this massive theft set someone up with an immense fortune. Someone so devious could not possibly change their ways, so we are looking for someone with a postwar fortune, an empire if you will.”
“There are many success stories from after the war. Many families survived only to prosper, first in the black markets but then they became legitimate.”
“Ah, but which of them has roots in Greece or Germany?”
“Many have such backgrounds. You forget that today, the EU has dissolved borders. Money flows more or less freely.”
“I don’t care,” Ceres shouted as he jumped to his feet. “I’ll never forget what has happened.”
“I believe you Mr. Saves, but I must have somewhere to start.”
“I’ve a list of names,” AJ said, handing Gia a typed list of names. “These are the men who served with my grandfather in Greece, as well as the names of some of the resistance fighters, the German commander in Northern Greece, and lastly, you have the name of a Greek renegade my grandfather dealt with. This information comes from Ceres’ research and his memory,” AJ said, looking at his friend, who was still very agitated.
“There’s one name added,” Gia said, indicating a name written in pen.
“That one is a more recent addition,” AJ replied. “Can you help us or not?” He was tired of playing games.
“I have contacts and friends in the various places. Some high places and some low ones too. I use them for favors and information like they use me,” she replied warily.
“Yes or no?” AJ said.
“There might be someone I could speak to,” she replied, looking off into the distance. She sat up straight, fixing AJ in her glare, and said emphatically, “I will look into this for you, but you should know I don’t expect to find much, if anything. Don’t get your hopes up because I’m taking your case. Your expectations …”
AJ took a breath to speak, but Ceres spoke first. Placing his hand on AJ’s arm, he said in a strong voice, “First, I want to find out what happened to my friend in 1944. I want to know who killed my friend’s son in Boston recently, and if the murder is connected to what happened during the war. I want to find the treasure and return it to the people to whom it belongs. Ajax may have other priorities, but those are my expectations. If you can answer even one of these things, I will be satisfied.”
“I can’t add to that. I know it’s a tall order,” AJ said.
“I can’t make any promises. It is a tall order, but I’ll try to learn something. Where are you staying?” Gia asked.
“We came straight here. Can you recommend someplace?”
AJ replied, ideas more about Gia than their business together popping into his head.
“I can help with that. Eat and have some coffee, and I will make arrangements,” Gia said. “Also, you need a few things.”
“What could we need?” said AJ, wrinkling his forehead in thought.
“You need some more European clothes. You are both very obviously American,” she said with a smile.
“Really?” AJ said, his annoyance returning. “We need new clothes?”
“If you want to blend in, you do,” Gia said.
Gia sent them to the Galleria Corso where they found everything a well-dressed man about Milan could want. By evening, AJ and Ceres had each bought three changes of clothes. Their next stop was Hotel Milan where the general manager met them in person.
“Buon giorno! Gentlemen,” the manager said. “I am Marco. Signorina Donatella is an excellent customer and a delightful woman. When she called, we immediately made a room available for you. How long will you be staying, signore?” the manager asked.
“We aren’t sure how long our business will take. At least a week, if that is satisfactory,” AJ replied.
“Perfectly satisfactory. Should you need to stay longer please inform me. We can make arrangements to extend your stay,” the manager said as he quietly closed their room door behind him.
“Well, what do you think of our arrival in Milan, better than Athens?” AJ said to Ceres, who was testing out one of the beds.
“I think it has been less stressful. Let’s see if any hired killers show up here tonight,” Ceres said. “Then I can give you a better opinion.”
The
two men laughed, but AJ got up and put the night lock on the door. The men unpacked their belongings, opened their new clothes, and used the room’s steam iron to refresh their new wardrobes.
AJ went to their expansive window to take in the city. Red tiled roofs and copper clad spires capped white washed walls. There was a canal and a cathedral under scaffolding in the distance. AJ was wondering how many churches there might be in Milan when his cell phone rang. Digging in his bag, he retrieved it and answered.
“Hello,” AJ said.
“What, no Italian greeting, Mr. Pantheras? Have you dropped your Italiano persona?” Gia asked sarcastically.
“Are you going to be a pain in the ass all the time, or is there a point where you’re going to do something for me?” AJ said, thinking Gia already did something for him.
“I’m sorry. I’m afraid I’m just naturally sarcastic. I don’t actually mean to be so biting. My father said I was worst to people I like. I guess he knew best,” Gia said.
“So you called for some reason other than cutting me down?” AJ said, hoping she liked him.
“I have some information on the names you gave me. It’s preliminary, but I thought you’d want to know right way. Can we meet for a drink?”
AJ’s heart skipped a beat at the suggestion, and then he remembered that Ceres would be along too. “Sure, where? Do you want to come to the hotel?”
“There is a little café near your hotel on Via Conca del Naviglio. It’s Café Moderne,” she said.
“We can find it. You won’t recognize us in our European clothes,” AJ said.
Gia laughed. Damn she has a nice laugh, AJ thought.
“See you in thirty minutes,” she said.
The little café’s tables spilled out across the light blue travertine sidewalk. Wooden chairs surrounded linen-covered tables under a light blue canopy while waiters in white cut away coats and black bow ties hovered over a handful of guests. AJ selected a table slightly separated from the others.
They were no sooner seated than a waiter pounced on them.