James read it, and then raised his eyebrows looking at the superintendent. “It’s not really very much information.”
“That’s why I’m going there. Or we can go together, if you agree to accompany me,” said Irina.
James looked at her in astonishment, and then looked to the superintendent for support. The superintendent just looked back at him, saying nothing.
“I don’t see the need for me to go there. It’s police business,” said James.
“The victim was close to some local orthodox Muslims. We’ll probably have to speak with those people. I need somebody who is acquainted with their faith. Also, a woman detective will face some barriers there,” said Irina.
Hearing this, James soon realized that he might have to put up with the idea. “Obviously, there’s a sacrifice to be made,” he sighed.
“Great. The plan is to leave tomorrow morning at five past nine from Heathrow,” said Irina.
“But I’m not staying for more than a couple of days,” James warned.
“More time than that won’t be necessary,” the superintendent assured him.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Russia and USA
1913–1919
Even before meeting with Semeon Laptin, Batka Ivan had begun to transfer out of Russia the plunder he had accumulated during all those years of banditry. However, thanks to Laptin’s connections, new horizons for money laundering and successful avoidance of custom and border controls opened up before him. Consequently, Laptin’s Swiss bank account grew significantly richer and the business relationship between the two men evolved into friendship.
During the last winter before Russia became involved in the First World War, Batka disbanded his detachments and, with his closest people, moved to the calmer eastern territories. At first, he spent time in the Pamir Mountains in the so-called No-Man’s-Land. At that time, none of the neighbouring countries of China, Afghanistan and the Bukhara Emirate had claimed this piece of land. Later, Batka settled in the furthest eastern town of the empire – Vladivostok. He took his wife and two sons with him, who until then had always lived in the Moscow region. There was no surer sign that Batka had definitively turned his back on his old life.
He bought three merchant ships and established a trading and cargo-shipping company that he called Ocean’s Golden Ray. It was officially registered under the name of the bankrupted Chinese merchant Ma Pen. Ma Pen owed a pile of money to Batka and paid his debt by covering the company’s questionable trading deals. The little flotilla smuggled restricted goods from and into Far Eastern countries. On rare occasions, one of the ships would sail to the USA. The cargo on those trips was part gold, silver and works of art – all from Batka’s bandit treasury – and part precious and semi-precious stones, and rare minerals extracted from a mine in Pamir. In addition to Ocean’s Golden Ray, this mine was Batka’s major investment in the eastern provinces of the empire.
In July 1915, Batka Ivan and his family were on one of his ships bound for the USA. Batka stepped onto San Francisco’s portside on the symbolic 4th of July – Independence Day. Soon after that, he bought a house in San Francisco and a ranch about fifty kilometres from the city. He registered an import-export company and rented a couple of storehouses in San Francisco’s docks. By the time he sailed back to Russia a month later, Batka was already a US citizen.
* * *
For Semeon Laptin, the word ‘crisis’ meant a period of time when the clever ones prosper. Destiny had decreed that he should live during the biggest crisis in human history, World War One, and he intended to benefit from it. That was why, when the chance appeared, he embraced it without hesitation.
On one autumn day in 1916, Laptin was entrusted by Army General Visarionov with a confidential task. He had to choose a group of officers from Ohranka – Russia’s secret police – as security guards for an informal meeting of high-ranking military and government officials. It was going to take place in the house of an eminent merchant in central Petersburg.
Semeon and his plain-clothes policemen secured the address at daybreak. Sentries were discreetly positioned in the surrounding streets and around the house. Laptin shuttled between the policemen and gave orders. Not long after, the guests began to arrive. Amongst them were generals, vice-ministers, members of the Duma – the Russian Parliament – and some foreigners. When the last guests on the list had arrived, Semeon Laptin decided to check the guards at the rear. He was passing by some low cellar windows when he overheard muted voices. He took out his revolver and climbed down the stairs leading to the cellar door. It was unlatched. He opened it carefully and entered. Further ahead, there was another flight of stairs leading upwards, at the top end of which was a door – now ajar. He could hear the voices of two men coming from the other side of it. One belonged to General Visarionov, the other was foreign – he spoke Russian with a French accent. Laptin’s heart felt as if it were going to thump out of his chest when he realized what they were talking about. The General, together with some associates he did not name, intended to move part of the empire’s gold reserves abroad. The Frenchman was a representative of a major bank where the gold would be deposited. The precious cargo was already on a train travelling to Vladivostok. From there it was going to be loaded onto a ship and transported to one of the bank’s secure vaults in its British Indian branch.
Laptin heard the name of the ship and the day of its departure and then quietly walked out of the cellar.
Later the same day, he sent a coded telegram to a shipping company in Vladivostok – Ocean’s Golden Ray. That evening, he went home and pulled a metal box from its hiding place in the floor. Inside the box there were wads of notes of different currencies, passports from different countries and diplomatic passes for crossing European borders. He removed the entire contents of the box and stuffed it into his pockets. Semeon Laptin was leaving Russia forever.
* * *
Laptin’s telegram reached Batka in the office of Ocean’s Golden Ray in Vladivostok. The news was so unbelievable that at first he thought it could be some kind of trap. He made enquiries regarding the ship, Morning Star, and its cargo, which was expected to be delivered with the next arrival of the Trans-Siberian Express. The clues his spies supplied him with confirmed this information. It was also not difficult to see that there was unusual movement around Morning Star. The ship was not big and did not look significant in any way, yet many armed men, all of whom looked like mercenaries, guarded it and a military background could be detected in their posture and movements. Something was being cooked up there and it seemed that Laptin’s information could well be correct.
The three Ocean’s Golden Ray ships sailed empty to pick up cargo from India. At least that was what the official port record stated. Just before their departure, Ma Pen followed the example of many of his colleagues and armed the ships with cannons for protection against pirates. The route they were sailing was dangerous; there had been recent reports of assaults on merchant ships.
Morning Star left the dock the following evening and sailed into open water. Another bigger and heavily-armed ship accompanied it. Darkness gradually swallowed them, muting the roar of their engines and finally absorbing the smoke of their chimneys. Neither of these ships was ever seen again, and nothing was ever heard about their fate.
* * *
Semeon Laptin arrived at Batka’s ranch at dusk on Christmas Day. Until that moment, he did not know if his partner had managed to lay his hands on the empire gold. However, the moment he saw Batka’s face he immediately knew the answer. Once more, Laptin realized how right he had been to choose to serve him. That is why, when Batka asked him if he would like to stay or go after getting his share, he chose the first.
In the following year, Laptin witnessed and participated in the extraordinary expansion of Batka’s expanding companies, initially in the USA, then in Brazil, Colombia and Argentina. The South American countries proved to be good places for Batka’s semi-legal enterprises. In 1917, Batka pro
spered several times more than his accounting records showed from trade in essential raw materials, precious and semi-precious stones and metals. Smuggling cocaine and opium, which were restricted goods in the USA under the Harrison Act of 1914, became a special source of income for him. Batka had to apply the skills that had made him the number one gangster in Russia in order to obtain the position of a privileged drug dealer on the West Coast. After a short, bloody war, the Italian, Irish and Chinese gangs had to shrink their territories and make room for the newcomers.
1919 was the year that Batka crossed the crucial point about which he had spoken with Laptin in moments of frankness. ‘They’ invited him to attend their annual meeting.
Once, in response to Laptin’s admiration of his headlong moneymaking, Batka had told him that the true recognition of his success would come when ‘they’ noticed him and he took his rightful place amongst them. And now it was a fact.
Batka never used names when talking on that subject. He called those mysterious people ‘they’, ‘the masters, ‘the owners’. He revealed that ‘they’ consisted of several groups, and each group controlled a certain part of the world, or certain economic or political spheres. Some of the groups had existed for centuries. Others were products of more recent times. Most of them kept their wealth and knowledge in closed clan-like circles and transferred it from one generation to another. There were rivalries between some of them, but once a year they laid their differences aside and met to discuss world affairs and problems. Batka had named the meetings the ‘World Council’. Sometimes on such occasions, self-made individuals, like Batka, were invited. As expected, this alignment kept its activities secret. One could be sure of one’s existence only if one became noticeable enough to be invited to their meetings. Batka had told Laptin that if any person ever managed to unite the ‘Council’ he could, without exaggeration, be called ruler of the world.
Laptin did not dare ask Batka how the meeting had gone and what had been discussed there. He waited until he resumed that conversation and then slipped in the burning question.
“There is no hope for Russia,” Batka responded. “‘They’, or better to say one group of the alignment, which I call the idealists, have put in a lot of planning and money to stir up what’s happening there. Russia is now a giant experimental field and ‘they’ will try out everything that has been planned.”
“So, we didn’t steal the gold from Russia but from the Reds who serve these anonymous masters,” said Laptin.
“We’ve got to move out everything we can from there. It is not our country any more. One day we’ll take it back, though.”
Soon after this conversation, Batka announced that he had to make a journey to the Pamir Mountains ahead of schedule. The latest news from that area exposed the need for quick action if Batka did not want a big chunk of his fortune there to be expropriated by the communists. The Bukhara Emirate, where Batka’s mining business was, was under Bolshevik attack and would not be able to resist for long. Batka intended to transport the last production of the mine and the rest of his bandit treasure, which was hidden in the Pamir caves, through British India to Karachi. He had decided to lead this operation and take his eldest son, seventeen-year-old Alexander, with him. His intention was to give the heir to his business and criminal empire a big real-life lesson.
Laptin was one of the few chosen to say goodbye to Batka at the port. When the small group of people who had come to see him off watched the ship sail away, one of Batka’s American executives made a casual comment. “The route is too insecure. A businessperson of his class shouldn’t take such unnecessary risks for himself and his son. They may not even return from those troubled lands.”
Nobody in that small group of people could have imagined, even in their wildest dreams, just how prophetic those words would become. The young Alexander would not return, and Batka Ivan would no longer be the man they had known.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
The Lake of the Golden Ducks, somewhere in the UK
The present day
For about an hour, the man paced the wide pathway surrounding the Lake of the Golden Ducks, as the locals called it, and from time to time, he cast a discreet glance at the people who walked near him. As he passed by the little coffee shop on the lake’s shore, he slowed his pace and had a good look around. He saw that all the tables were taken and there were people queuing to buy coffee. However, when he couldn’t see who he was looking for he moved on and continued his seemingly aimless walk.
About fifty metres away from the coffee shop he saw a couple sitting on a bench. As he walked past them the woman turned towards him and their eyes met. She was holding a blue book, the title of which was printed in large white text. This was the sign the man had been looking for. He quickly looked around before approaching the couple and saying in a low voice, “I read poetry only through springtime.”
“There are verses for each season,” the woman replied.
The couple stood up and the young man said, “Perfecty, please, sit down. Look towards the lake and don’t turn around. We’ll be close.” The couple then walked away in opposite directions.
The perfecty did what he had been told, and soon, behind him, he heard someone approaching. The newcomer came very close to him and the skin on the back of his neck prickled. He had felt this sensation before, and he knew that the newcomer was like him – a ‘touched’ one. He closed his eyes and drifted into a dreamlike state known as the ‘View’. The scene that began to emerge in his mind depicted what he recognized as the three rings of the Mountain of Existence. He was in the Middle Ring, where all who were called perfecty resided. He could distinguish the two young people who had sat on this bench before him amongst the endless multitude of creatures inhabiting the low Outer Ring. In the dominating Inner Ring above him he could ‘see’ the image of a man that he knew was the man who stood behind him. He was sitting on one of many thrones at the top of the Mountain. Such was the power of the ‘View’. It revealed the true place of every living being in the hierarchy of the world. It showed the true status of every person in the world if the world had been preserved – as it was meant to be by its Creator.
The ‘View’ began to fade and the perfecty opened his eyes. His first impulse was to get up and speak to the man standing behind him, but before he had the chance to do so the man put his hand on the perfecty’s shoulder and pressed him gently back into his seat.
“I apologize for being late. I needed to make sure that neither of us was followed.” The man spoke these words slowly and quietly like a person who was used to being listened to attentively.
From the sound of his voice, the perfecty decided that the man was white and younger than him, about forty years old approximately. “I understand, sir. It’s an honour to be in your presence,” he said reverentially.
“The honour is mine. I wanted to personally convey the gratitude of the High Gathering. You and your team have done a great job.”
“Thank you. After the blunder in Bulgaria we didn’t want to make any mistakes,” the perfecty said humbly. “We benefited from the High Gathering’s choices regarding the place and the time.”
“Yes. We did our part, but the success of the mission was mostly due to your resolve and accurate action,” replied the man.
“Sir, the message I got says that we have discovered another one of them. Is that right?” the perfecty asked.
“Yes, that’s right, but not just one … the one,” the man replied.
“Praise the heavens!” said the perfecty, looking up at the sky and touching his forehead with the fingertips of his joined hands.
“You understand what has to be done and what the pledge is? The High Gathering has assigned this task to you. You will keep in contact with me.” The man gave the perfecty a computer memory stick. “On this you’ll find all the data about him. Once again, the time for preparation is minimal.”
“It’s of utmost importance that we sever his bloodline. If there is a bloodline
,” the perfecty said thoughtfully.
“Yes, that’s our number one strategy,” replied the man. “Although we have little time, the High Gathering has given us plenty of resources so that we can tighten in around him. Isolating him as much as possible is our priority.”
“His personal life has to be scrutinized,” said the perfecty. “That will help us to prepare the strike.”
“I have already assigned two investigation teams. Some of the information you need to start is in the file I’ve given you … Here is the rest.”
The perfecty heard a thud; a black suitcase had been placed next to him.
“In this case is three million pounds for expenses. If you need more money just ask. There are no financial limits on this hunt,” the man said.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
London, UK
Elizabeth felt down despite her attempts to marginalize her negative thoughts. She felt discontent because of the increase in James’ work with the police. Her mood had deteriorated even more when she saw his travelling companion at the airport. That unexpected effusion of jealousy made her angry at herself, but that didn’t make the unpleasant feeling go away.
“Dear, no need to rush. My partner will be in the shop. It’s not a problem if I’m late,” said Malee.
Elizabeth glanced down at the speedometer. It read eighty-five miles per hour. She eased the pressure on the gas pedal. “I got carried away thinking,” she said.
Malee had begun to feel the prolonged silence like a burden. Since they had seen James off at the airport about forty minutes ago, she and Elizabeth had exchanged few words. “Not pleasant thoughts, as I can see,” she said.
“Sorry. I’m not in good shape right now.”
“Why don’t you let go. James will be back before you know it.”
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