by Gavin Reese
The headlines and their images gave her immediate pause. The left article, entitled, “König Intl Defies Market,” praised her husband, Herr Alfred König, for his business acumen in avoiding the decline of every other shipping conglomerate in Europe by expanding his business while his competitors consolidated or failed. The adjacent headline, “Fentanyl Causes National Crisis,” declared the recent and sudden rise in drug overdose deaths as a public health emergency. She sighed, shook her head, and whispered to herself. “Stupid shitheads don’t realize they’re both about the same man. Each story is the cause and effect of the other.” Her nerves steeled, Stefanie strode on toward the massive metal double-doors and what she hoped would be her salvation and sanctuary. Even if it ends badly, at least it will have ended. Alfred can’t get away with this, no matter who he is.
February 12, 08:47am local
Hotel Sacher. Vienna, Austria.
Alfred König left the opulent lobby of historic Hotel Sacher and strolled over the slushy crosswalks on Philharmoniker Straβe and Operngasse toward his office building. Although few nearby restaurants were open at that hour, Alfred caught occasional, enticing whiffs of traditional Austrian breakfast foods. Sausage, fresh bread, strong coffee, schinkenspeck. Many of those he passed on the street clung to travel mugs with steam rising up in the cold morning air.
The narrow one-way streets teemed with lines of high-end luxury autos as Vienna’s elite drove to offices in one of Austria’s most expensive districts. The truly successful, of course, rode in the backseat while inferior men negotiated the snow-packed boulevards on their behalf. No longer satisfied with being chauffeured about, Alfred had set himself up with the shortest possible commute in the city. Several times each day, he slogged along with the pedestrian crowds for less than a hundred meters from his suite at Hotel Sacher and its reservation-only restaurant, Lokal Sacher. None of the old-money aristocrats passing by in their Maybachs and Rolls Royces have any measure of the present success or future potential that I enjoy.
Nearing his destination, Alfred looked back at the historic hotel that had hosted generations of the world’s elite and now catered to his every need. If a man has to be away from the privacy of his own residence, Hotel Sacher is the ideal second home. My father would never believe I’ve risen to such prominence that I can keep a suite here like lesser men keep a small apartment in the city. He stepped into the lobby of the government’s Tourist Information Center building in which he leased an expansive corner office, a storage room, and shared use of the receptionist and custodial staff. In contrast to the gray late-winter morning, Alfred found the reception area bright, open, and welcoming. Just like our secretary. A handsome man of fifty, he aged very well, which meant that he had the finances and time to let professionals care for his body and appearance. A personal trainer, nutritionist-chef, and masseuse all contributed to his well-being, along with Alfred’s awareness that he remained attractive to most women, regardless of their age. Could still have my pick, I think. I can’t recall the last woman who seemed beyond my reach. Another benefit of being a man. Pierce Brosnan, Sean Connery, and I still don’t get turned down. Well, they might, for all I know.
Alfred approached a large, mottled light-gray marble desk. Seated below its bar-height edges, the college-aged receptionist looked up at him and smiled. Her straight brunette locks always fell just above the expansive cleavage she partially revealed from beneath her blouse. Perhaps Hannah is young and shameless enough to justify my time and attention for a few years, until a younger and better version of her comes calling. If only she worked elsewhere. I should get her fired and convince an ugly colleague to hire her. Hannah’s smart enough to know she would owe me a debt in that circumstance, and she might even find a creative way to pay it off. Alfred smiled at the envy those around him would feel to know he’s bedding such a catch.
He sighed to himself. I enjoy keeping her interested, but I can’t risk having a scorned lover working in my building, keeping tabs on all the comings and goings of me and my associates. Women pay too much attention to such things, and they become witnesses too easily. Too bad. She’d be a fantastic lay. A few hours very well spent, but it’s always the aftermath that destroys the value of the intercourse. That’s why it remains useful to pay for sex. No expectations, no retaliation. We both get what we’re after, and we move on to the next task at hand. No love, no promises, no bullshit that interferes with the rest of our lives.
Hannah looked him up and down. “Good morning, Herr König.” Even her pronunciation of his name sounded suggestive, her voice sultry to his ear.
Alfred imaged her naked body and didn’t bother holding respectful eye contact. “How are you this morning, Hannah?”
“I’m wonderful for a workday. Slow start to the morning, all the usual expectations for this time of year. And, I have another package for you, Herr König. You should speak with your supplier about this ongoing address problem.”
Alfred leaned closer to the young woman. “But, if the mail carrier begins delivering to my office upstairs, I risk offending a very important client by correcting his error, and worse yet, I have far less excuse to see you. No rational man would pursue either outcome.”
Hannah flashed a coy glance. “How’s your wife this morning, Herr König?”
“I’m certain she’s fine, wherever she is and whatever’s she’s doing. Her life and mine don’t intersect in the way that tradition would expect.” She wants me to dismiss Stefanie as less important than her. The only chance for this unskilled secretary to compete with a former model and renowned international designer is to degrade herself for my benefit. “Why do you ask?”
“No reason, I suppose, I just haven’t seen her stop in for a few weeks. I thought she might have fallen ill. It is that time of year.” Hannah retrieved a large parcel envelope and set it atop the counter between her face and Alfred’s waist.
The package and its contents superseded Alfred’s libido. The exterior matches all the others. He let the parcel sit in place and didn’t yet move to touch it. Alfred preferred to watch Hannah for a few minutes than to handle the envelope himself. If the contents have contaminated the outer packaging, she’ll soon need an ambulance and I’ll save myself from the same fate. “What do you do, Hannah, when you’re not here, I mean? What does a young, independent woman in Vienna do for fun these days?”
She smiled suggestively at his question. “Well, anything I want, of course. That’s the very nature of being independent, Herr König.”
Alfred leaned across the counter but kept some distance from the parcel. He smiled when his own picture stared back at him. Hannah had a copy of the morning paper that sang his praises to the German-speaking world. “You’ve worked here, what, almost a year, something like that? I think you’ve been here long enough that you can just call me ‘Alfred.’”
“I’ve worked at this same desk for more than eighteen months, and you’ve picked up several packages identical to this one each week since. I imagine they started arriving even before I did, but that still means you’ve spoken with me at least, what, perhaps, one-hundred-sixteen times, assuming we’d had no other reason for conversation or interaction.” Hannah slowly shook her head and gazed up at Alfred. “And, we both know that isn’t true, Herr König.” She broke eye contact and returned her focus to a computer monitor as though he was no longer important. “However, I believe we must maintain respect for the social order of things at our place of work, for the difference in our positions. At least, for the time that we’re here together.”
Alfred bit on the perceived implication. “So, if I agree to remain ‘Herr König’ here in our shared office building, you might call me ‘Alfred’ outside of this place, outside of your scheduled work hours?”
“That might just be possible,” Hannah replied with her eyes still on the monitor, and then she turned back toward him. “Perhaps, under those circumstances, we might even find our preferred positions aren’t so different after all.”
/> Alfred smiled at the beauty and her short-lived arrogance. Women who trade exclusively on their looks deserve the loneliness they’re guaranteed to find awaiting them one day, after time has robbed them of their only source of value. Still, fun toys to own for a season or two. “Yes, I imagine that might be the case. I suppose I’ll have to keep that in mind. Hannah.”
Alfred stood upright and paused as though he had trouble leaving her company. It’s been long enough that she would have reacted by now, and she can just assume that I give a damn about her. He took hold of the envelope by a long side that didn’t expose him to either of its two end flaps. Even though it appeared sealed and Hannah hadn’t fallen ill, Alfred took no unnecessary risks. I need to keep an antidote kit nearby, just as a precaution. Stepping toward the elevator, he kept his gaze on her for a few moments. “I hope to see you later today.”
“I’m certain you do.” Hannah watched him leave and ogled him as she did so.
Alfred turned and strode away, confident he’d soon know the virile brunette inside and out. Now, on to the business necessary to keep this luxurious, decadent lifestyle afloat.
February 12, 09:38am local
König’s Office. Vienna, Austria.
Seated in his refurbished antique leather desk chair, Alfred König looked out through the wall of windows before him. His lavish office and its view across the Vienna skyline still impressed him. The expansive office measured twenty-feet wide and thirty-feet long, with its east wall comprised of lightly tinted stormproof Plexiglas. From his position at the back-right corner, Alfred’s desk sat on a slight diagonal to allow him to enjoy the best view of the Royal Opera House and the city center. Two chairs sat across the desk for visitors, of which he had few. A seating area in the deep left corner, against the glass wall, was comprised of two long perpendicular couches, a low, central coffee table, and two matching chairs that faced the Opera House. The one visible doorway stood at the deep-right corner, across from the seating area.
Alfred glanced at the wall of bookcases behind him and to his left and grinned at their concealed mystery. The far bookcase, once released by a concealed electronic lever, could be pushed back into a hidden storage room. The most secure and covert aspect of my entire life. Everything else I do, or have done, at least one other person knows about. Knowledge of that room and its contents, however, are mine alone. Beyond the craftsman’s talent and discretion, his poor health proved an additional benefit. My secret died with him, and no one else will ever again have need to learn of it.
Alfred absentmindedly tapped his finger against the top of his massive custom wood desk, an Austrian Black Pine piece that had required four months to build, stain, and deliver. He sighed and focused on the surrounding extravagance. Having commissioned the Hotel Sacher’s restoration designer to furnish his office, Alfred had made her job all the easier by allowing her to replicate the interior of his leased third-floor suite. The room’s nine-foot ceilings allowed the designer to install a massive mechanical clock with a minute-hand that nearly spanned the wall’s height. It read 9:39.
Alfred checked the time against his watch and grimaced. He’s late. Few things are as telling as a lack of punctuality. Despite the number of times he’d met Altüss, every encounter demanded he risk his freedoms. If I’m rational, each meeting increases the probability of failure, rather than better ensuring our success as it would in any other commodity transaction.
A buzzer doorbell sounded twice to notify Alfred of an arrival outside the locked door to his office. Finally. He opened a low desk drawer to his right, which revealed two horizontal flat-screen surveillance camera monitors. The overlapping views allowed Alfred a wide and complete high-definition glimpse into the adjacent hallway. A tall black male in a brown delivery uniform waited with a small cardboard box and clipboard to enter his office. Altüss looks reserved and unassuming, but that man’s a ruthless jaguar.
Alfred adjusted his rolling desk chair to grip a suppressed Heckler & Koch semi-auto pistol concealed beneath the desktop. I’d prefer that Altüss never forces me to put him down, but that decision is his alone. Held in place with magnets, the nearly silent 9mm would allow Alfred to stop any inbound threats with no more sound than a few claps of enthusiastic applause. More important than the sound of gunfire outside the room is the reality that gunfire inside this room would deafen me for hours and severely inhibit my escape.
With his clammy right hand in place on the pistol’s grip, Alfred’s left pressed a switch under the desk that released the door’s magnetic and mechanical locks. A soft, distant buzzing announced he’d allowed his visitor to enter. As usual, Alfred’s pulse picked up as this recurring moment passed between them.
Altüss Bulaji, a thin South Sudanese refugee who stood just over 6’3”, pushed the door open as he stepped inside, nodded to Alfred, and turned around to press it closed. Once a light click confirmed both locks had re-engaged, Alfred took his hand off the pistol. He’s locked inside now, he couldn’t escape even if he killed me. Altüss strode toward the desk with confidence more consistent with a titan of industry. He no longer looks or acts like the man who sold dimebags on the U6 just more than a year ago.
Nonchalantly wiping his right hand on his pants leg, Alfred closed the camera monitor drawer and gestured toward the chairs in front of the desk. He didn’t bother getting up to greet his subordinate.
“Good morning,” Alfred offered in his native tongue. “Please sit. Traffic problems today?”
“It’s central Vienna, there’s always traffic problems.” His smooth, heavily accented baritone dismissed Alfred’s implied concern as he sat in the chair that placed him toward Alfred’s right. “Your people won’t move this part of the city past its horse-and-carriage days, even though modern progress demands you stop clutching at your ancient history.” He placed the mid-sized box on the adjacent chair and leaned back. The chair beneath Altüss softly creaked in mild protest.
As Alfred retrieved his envelope parcel from a drawer on the left side of his desk, he frowned and made a mental note to have his designer inspect the chairs for damage. The immigrant has no appreciation that his life remains more valuable than that chair only while he provides a positive revenue stream. I found him on the streets, and a surplus of immigrants in Austria are already dealing drugs or willing to do so. One trip to the U6 line or the Praterstern train station would yield an equitable replacement by this afternoon. Alfred cleared his throat and tempered his emotions. “I have another shipment of the usual product.”
“As expected, my contacts are ready for it today.” He nodded toward the box seated to his right. “And, also as expected, I have the cash payment we agreed to.”
“This one is already converted, yes?”
“It is,” Altüss reluctantly confirmed. “I ensured it is all one-hundred-euro bills this time, just as you requested.” He picked up the box and set it on the front edge of Alfred’s desk to trade it for the envelope. “The large shipment still arrives in eight days?”
“Yes, is that a problem?” He sounds concerned.
Altüss clutched the envelope and leaned back, eliciting another creak from the expensive chair. “I am still collecting the euros necessary for the purchase. This isn’t like all the others.”
Concerned about the man’s meaning, Alfred sat back and analyzed his simultaneous partner and subordinate. Altüss already compels me to question his loyalty. I made him, and it seems he might have already forgotten how I put him where he is today. "Do you recall where you were fourteen months ago? What you did for work, where your children slept at night?”
The visitor’s expression devolved into obvious disdain. Unlike the last time Alfred brought up the topic, Altüss chose not to answer.
“I see you think you recall, but let me remind you about what I saw that day.” Alfred leaned forward and propped himself up on his elbows atop the desk. “The day you approached me at the Praterstern station and tried to sell me that cheap, Balkan pot, you were nothin
g but a malnourished, desperate dimebag drug dealer. I saw in you a man of work ethic and resources, perhaps even beyond what you saw in yourself. I have that ability, to see what those around me are capable of accomplishing, what their self-imposed limitations are.
“I saw great things in you. I offered you help. I set up this front business for you, got the vehicle and licenses needed for you to run this delivery service and give it the appearance of a legitimate operation. I changed the trajectory of your life and the lives of your entire family. By doing that, by making the decision that day to help you, I altered the course of generations of your bloodline, Altüss. Your children’s grandchildren will have a chance at a peaceful and successful life because of me.”
“I have not forgotten--”
“Then why do you jerk me around like this!? You’re still working to collect the payment?! How is that possible for a man in your position, who owes me so much, and, despite that, I’m still presenting you with incredible opportunities that other men spend their lives dreaming of? It compels me to question your understanding of our relationship and what the exclusivity of my business means to you and yours.”
Altüss swallowed hard, as though tempering his anger. “Herr König, until now, we have worked small and frequent shipments that I and my family have covered ourselves. The one next week, even after all the successes of the past year, forces me to seek currency from more, uh, extended, resources. I am not yet in the position to bring a million euros to you, not on my own. I can cover the fifty-thousand for a kilo of cocaine or heroin, but you agreed to purchase this new shipment without first asking what was possible for me. I think you’re fortunate that my people have the same faith and confidence in me that you saw. Even without knowing what I’m doing with their money, they are coming together to provide me all I need to take this shipment. I’m grateful you chose to help me, Herr König, but you must also remember that you need me now like I needed you then.”