TS 3 Chapter 14

Chapter 14

Guntram de Lisle's diary

May 24^th, 2014

Last night we had a(gain) row with Konrad over the holidays. He's found some very distant relative who owns a castle somewhere in Scotland and is willing to rent it for the holidays. It seems “Lord Angus” needs to polish the silver like so many others do, and Konrad is determined to “solve the pet question” once and for all. 

I don't want to go fishing salmons and the boys don't want a “Scottie”; they want.... they don't know what they want but if we bring Kurt along, we will come home with Nessie. I did the only logical thing to do; I said no. 

Konrad was more upset than a child throwing a tantrum and we argued over the holidays. I'm supposed to “come back with an equally as good of a plan” (?) 

Fefo drove me to my atelier and I asked him if he knew any place where you can take a cranky billionaire that's not a ship in the middle of the ocean... and get a “suitable” pet in the process. 

I worked and had lunch with Goran. The poor guy looks quite abated. The lady is quite angry with him and I can understand her. I offered my services as diplomat and he told me:

“We are past the level of diplomacy. The gaucho went with the American to have coffee at her shop and she expelled them both.”

“Was it that bad what she read?” I asked and he shrugged. 

“Wars ain't pretty, Guntram.” He left it at that and I know better than asking. 

“Maybe we should wait a little and see if she calms down.” I suggested. Yes, that's a lousy suggestion, I know. 

“She might, but I won't.” Goran answered and I was shocked. “She said too many things I won't be forgetting any time soon.” 

“Goran, I also was mean to you but we spoke and let it go.” 

“You never called me the things she did. I'll get over it. It would have never worked, Guntram. I'm not a family man like Ratko or Milan, who's looking quite housebroken in the past weeks, are. Even the pup is considering to marry that girl.” 

I didn't know that and I hope Fefo doesn't kill him when he hears the news about Mirko's marriage. Well, in theory, he has some kind of “replacement” in the closet too. Anyway, he won't like it and I'm not the patsy who's going to tell him. Shit! Do I have to give Mirko a wedding present?

Goran closed himself like a clam and that was it. He ate dessert in silence and left for the bank. 

I stopped by María's store because “women melt under me” but the face of pure terror I got from the young girl who works there when she saw me, made me reconsider that sentence. Maybe I should pass when Kurt is with me. I'm not brave enough as to enter alone. I went home quickly.

I spent the rest of the afternoon working and later Ratko drove me home. 

My heart nearly stopped when I saw my boys hugging a mutt. 

I mean, that dog was a dark brown mutt in giant size. It was clean but it looked like something you pick from the trashcan. 

The dog was cute like the devil and a true charmer by the way it shook its tail to everybody. 

“Do you like it?” Fefo asked me.

“Did you... buy it?” I asked. The thing looked like a massive Leonberger but with a twist… Suddenly, I remembered how much Konrad liked this kind of big dogs. Didn't he spend all his childhood trying to smuggle a Rotweiller into his bedroom?

“Buying is too much... Hundred francs for charity. He was the most vivacious they had at the shelter.” Fefo shrugged and I looked at him in total horror. “He has a German name I didn't catch. You can baptize him on Sunday.”

“Are you nuts?” I whispered furiously. 

“Probably,” he told me while the dog ran in circles, chasing his own tail, making the boys very happy.  

“What the hell is that dog?” 

“Well, it's a mix... It's a real bargain; there's a bit of St. Bernard or a Swiss Mountain dog mixed with some Labrador and a terrier perhaps running in his blood. Four dogs in one.” 

“Did you bring them a mutt?” 

“You said they were turning into posh brats and I remembered one of this life's motto; a luxury dog can't take away your natural gaudiness.” 

“Konrad is going to kill you for this.” I said earnestly. 

“Nonsense! He'll get over it. It's a good dog.” 

“Can you imagine what people will say when they see this dog?” The giant thing was now licking Karl's face and I inwardly prayed that it had had all its vaccines. 

“Well, it's a unique breed. If you want another one like him, you can't have it. You won't get this exact gene combination in a million years.” Fefo told me seriously and strangling him didn't seem to be such a bad idea. “Lighten up, Guntram! These half-breeds are the best pals for kids. Now, you're being a snob.”

The mutt was making friends fast as now Kurt and Friederich were petting him and he heavily fell on the floor and turned around to let them scratch his belly. Fefo was right, the dog was very clever and knew how to pick his allies. 

“With all what he eats, he must be worth a million by now. Don't be such a party pooper, Guti.” Fefo “scolded” me again. “My, you look like a parvenu with this obsession about breeding.” 

And I couldn't say no to the “thing”. I just couldn't. With those wet eyes, who can't say no to a dog? Besides I'm not a snob. 

We have a pet now and I hope I have enough time as to think how to break the news to Konrad. 

Why can't I have a normal, boring, regular day like everyone else?

* * *

May 25^th 2014. Sunday 

Hiding a sixty (or more) kilos dog isn't that easy. Konrad returned from Frankfurt yesterday night and the first thing he saw were his dark brown hairs on the new chair in the library. He nearly had a mental collapse because he loves the fabric of those chairs. It's a good thing he didn't see Johannes scratching his back against them.

“What on earth is that?” he asked me when I showed him the hulk snoring in the kitchen. 

“The boys' new dog. They love him.” I replied and Johannes continued to sleep. He won't be disturbed when the burglars break in. 

“Where did you get that from?”

“The bishop's house.” Well, the animal shelter belongs to a sister of the  Bishop of Mainz, so that's not so far away from the truth.

“Father Reinhard asked us to take care of his dog?” 

“They couldn't keep him any longer.” That beast was eating them dry at the shelter and according to Fefo they were very happy to get rid of him. No waiting time, no adaptation period; just sign here and pay this. The volunteers found him at the general ossuary and they assumed he was the dog of an old homeless person who was buried there. How he smuggled himself there, is beyond my understanding but it proves that he's a loyal and clever dog. 

Johannes -that's his name-, has installed himself in the kitchen, near the ovens and rules from there. He's bigger than the Rotweillers and they keep distance from him. All the Serbs like him very much and say that he's a real dog. 

“If the bishop wants us to keep his dog, then it can stay.” Konrad said and I swear that the dog was up and faking to be asleep. 

Fortunately, Konrad forgot all about it when he kissed me and we went upstairs for some quality time together. 

* * * 

“Well, the dog is earning his keep,” Konrad smiled when he saw his two elder children use Johannes as a miniature horse and the dog allowed it with resignation. “One would say he was trained for that,” he commented before he sipped from his coffee. 

“I think he was more into old people,” Guntram said quietly as he once more prayed that his husband had bought the story that Johannes was “rare color of St. Bernard's dog; from Col du Grand.” 

“I still think he's a Leonberger; has the temper of one. I'm afraid it will be a huge problem if we have to return the dog to his Eminence. The boys like him very much.”

“I don't think we will be in such a position,” Guntram said hurriedly and drank from his tea cup to hide his embarrassment. Lying to Konrad felt horrible but the truth about Johannes' origins would only get his friend in trouble. Besides, one photo of the mutt in “asmallworld.com” and the whole family would be out for the next century. For a second, Guntram considered to buy a designer's collar for the dog but he dismissed the idea because it was ridiculous and Gucci only catered for mini dogs. 

“Reinhard doesn't want it back?” Konrad asked very surprised. 

“The dog takes lot of time and care. Johannes needs a big place to run too.”

“With his size, he will keep any intruders away. I still don't know how we're going to get him in the plane when we go holidays.”

“Do you still want to go to Scotland?” Guntram asked dismayed. 

“Well, we can drop the idea of buying a scottie but we should see if we can see some ghosts or lake monsters.”

“The salmon is out too?” 

“No fishing. Ferdinand told me about his own experience and I decided it's nothing for me but we could go hunting to Spain.”  

“You know how I feel about it. Those birds did nothing to you and you will never eat a hundred of them.” 

“It's the minimum they release. A hundred.” Konrad explained again. “And we needed to go.” 

“It's the last time I move my ass to La Mancha to kill birds. A hundred!” snorted Guntram. “Can they shoot one at all?” 

“I needed to close that deal and that was a good opportunity. I promise not to hunt animals in Scotland; only ghosts.”

“Having a ghost in the place will reduce the price?” 

“No, I'm afraid that if Lord Elsinore shows up, it will increase the price,” Konrad chuckled. 

“No peers-discount? Guntram joked as he nodded. 

“No, they're Scots but you'll feel at home, Guntram,” Konrad chuckled softly.  

“No, I'm French and nobody can beat us at stinginess, my love,” Guntram smiled broadly. 

“I disagree with that,” Konrad joked but Guntram's laughter was interrupted when Dieter approached the duke and whispered something in his ear. “That's most untimely,” Konrad huffed and the butler paled. 

“Something wrong?” Guntram asked. 

“A meeting with people who don't know that today is Sunday.” Konrad huffed again as he threw his napkin over the table set for tea. “I'll be back soon. Take care of the boys.” 

Guntram picked up his forgotten book and returned to his earlier reading, just randomly stretching his ears to check if they boys were still peacefully playing. Klaus and Karl returned a couple of times to steal something from the table and eat it on the way, but Guntram didn't consider the offense to be serious enough as to grant them a reprimand. Once, over the hours, Kurt jumped to his lap to ask for a second lobster but Guntram sent him away with his nanny. One blue monster was enough in his life and he was still recovering from finding that same morning a large dog loudly snoring under his bed. 

Someone cleared his throat near him and Guntram almost jumped from his chair. “Ratko! It's Sunday.” 

“The guards called me,” he said darkly. “It's a mess, Dachs.” 

“What happened?” Guntram jumped to his feet, fearing that Constantin had done something horrible again. The idea of a swift and deadly retaliation was never far away from his mind. 

“Goran has been arrested.” Ratko mumbled quickly and Guntram blinked several times, digesting the news. “And the police are here too.” 

“What?” 

“Two large birds from FINMA and one from the district attorney's office are here, speaking with his Grace.” 

“That's ridiculous!” Guntram protested as he remembered that the Zurich General District Attorney he knew was a man looking like a beetle, always smiling and cracking jokes with his children. “Maartens is here?” 

“No, he's been forcibly retired on Friday. New guy.” 

“What is a district attorney doing here? People from FINMA, I can understand.” 

“I don't know,” Ratko said earnestly.

“What did they say about Goran?” Guntram asked and remembered that “particular problem with the Bosnians” that Konrad had silenced. Surely, it couldn't be that. He couldn't believe that Maria would have spoken with the law. She didn't look like the snitch type. 

Guntram rang the bell and told Dieter to take the boys back to the nursery before he walked inside with long strides towards the library. As expected the door was closed and there were two police officers and two bodyguards looking at each other distrustfully. 

“May I?” Guntram asked the largest police officer. 

“The statement isn't over, sir,” the man answered and blocked the door, making the three Serbs in the room look at him with ferocious eyes. 

Guntram slightly rose a hand and his people stood back. He only turned around and for a second was glad that Friederich was away for the day. He went to their private living-room and sat to wait for news. Ratko silently followed him and did the same. 

“Where's Milan?” Guntram asked. 

“Out of the country.” 

“And Alexei?” 

“Busy in Russia.” 

“Tell them to stay there for the time being.” Guntram ordered as he dialed Ferdinand's number. “Funny, it's disconnected.” 

“I wouldn't use any of those lines now, Dachs,” Ratko said darkly as he showed him a new brand encrypted phone, the same that Michel's people used. His father was a freak regarding his security and Guntram had always thought that it was a consequence of his many years on the run. 

“May I?” Guntram asked Ratko and he immediately passed the phone to the youth. 

“Whatever they say or do, keep your mouth shut,” was Michel's answer when he heard his son's story. “They must formulate any kind of charges to do that, but it doesn't mean you'll be informed.” 

“Can you come over here?” Guntram heard a long tired sigh on the other end of the line. “Please Michel.” 

“If Lintorff is in problems along with most of his people, then you'll need more than me to solve it. Be very careful that the police take nothing from you.”

“They won't search us!” 

“Guntram, they will and it's the logical procedure.” 

“This is outrageous,” the youth whispered furiously. “Konrad isn't a criminal,” and another long sigh was heard, making Guntram feel more frustrated than before. “As a personal favor, could you please come here? I know nothing about law.” 

“Very well,” was Michel's laconic answer. 

“Get that idiot of Merenghetti to come over here.” Guntram ordered again but Ratko shrugged. “What?” 

“First, he's useless and second, he's down too.” 

“What?” 

“He's been arrested on aggravated money laundering charges,” Ratko answered sheepishly. “The Argentinian told me.” 

“Fefo?” 

“No, the new lawyer. He's downtown, trying to bail him out.” 

“Money laundering? That's ridiculous!” 'Everybody around here does it.' Guntram's heart began to trumpet in nasty way. 

“Among half of the legal team,” Ratko continued to break the news. “Lanusse is free because he's not into banking but more into contracts.” 

Guntram needed to sit again on the chair and take a small white pill from his jacket. There were times when a defibrillator felt useless and right now he knew that he was on the brink of a real heart attack; the buzzing sound inside his brain forbade nothing good. 

“Are you all right?” Ratko asked nervously after seeing Guntram's pale skin turn ashen. 

“I must be.” Guntram exhaled slowly, hoping the electrical feeling in his chest would lessen and his ears allowed him to hear everything clear again. “Do you think that Kon... I mean, the Duke is accused of money laundering?” 

“Could be. I don't know. Nobody here has ever been accused of anything and we have no leaks.” 

“It can't be money laundering if they took Goran,” Guntram mumbled to himself. “He's got nothing to do with trading.” 

“I know as much as you do, Dachs,” Ratko said miserably and stopped talking when two unknown men, dressed in simple suits stood by the door with a pale Dieter by their side. 

“Vicomte,” the smaller one said as he pulled several papers out of his breast pocket. “We need to register your private rooms. It would be very kind of you if you stayed with us while we do it.” 

Guntram took the papers and had to read them several times to realize that somebody in the Swiss judiciary system had dared to sign them and order a search of his husband's private and personal items. 

“What are you looking for?” he asked. 

“Mobile phones, computers, laptops, notebooks, iPads,” the man answered as he moved away to let Guntram lead the way towards their bedroom. 

“I trust you will not disturb the children.” Guntram said seriously. 

“No, we won’t,” the man assured him and Guntram held his breath when he saw six men and women standing at the stairwell.  

Silently Guntram walked towards his room and opened the door, moving aside to let the team stomp inside his own bedroom. Behind the justice officers, two gardeners stood still, looking very gloomy as they had been ordered to serve as witnesses. Biting hard his lips, Guntram contemplated how the technicians collected every shred of paper laying on the desks and tables as electronic devices were bagged and tagged.

One of the technicians entered in their bedroom and accurately identified Konrad's laptop and iPad, bagging them with some care as he left the cables behind. 

Feeling violated and powerless, just like when he had been Constantin's captive, Guntram's eyes fixed themselves on the eagles in the official stamps placed on the bags and padded envelopes, wishing it all was a senseless nightmare. 

The man circled the big bed and took Guntram's iPad and placed it inside a transparent plastic bag. 

“That's mine,” Guntram feebly protested but the man continued to bag the iPad, placing a large tag over it. 

“All personal items, sir. It will be returned soon.” 

Unable to cope with his frustration without breaking something on the man's skull, Guntram returned to their small living-room and saw how a young lady touched Kurt's drawings  pile and small toys. 

“What you're packing there is my youngest child's Kindle,” Guntram pointed at the small e-reader covered with a large green-frog like cover. “There's nothing in there.” 

The woman looked uncomfortable at his words and switched the device on, carefully checking that all the e-books were children's books. Sheepishly, she extended the device back to Guntram and mumbled an apology. Guntram, let the e-book slide inside his beige jacket's pocket. 

A young man of his age, entered in the room and walked towards him with long strides. “My name is Helmut Schmidt from the prosecutor's office and I'm here to oversee this procedure,” he pompously announced. 

“Then you can inform me which are the charges brought against my husband.” 

“With all due respect, the Swiss law doesn't recognize your marriage, sir. If you'd have registered your partnership, perhaps I could make an exception and disclose that information.”

Guntram looked at him but kept his mouth shut exactly his father had told him to do. The young prosecutor was taunting him and he had been long in the game to yield to those childish practices. “Very well, I assume the duke has some kind of legal representation if he's been questioned by you,” 

“Mr. Lintorff hasn't answered to any of our questions but perhaps you could answer some.” 

“Then, I fail to understand why you're questioning my client,” Michel's voice sounded over the corridor. “Excuse me,” he regally moved away one of the technicians and stood next to his son. 

“And you are?” 

“Michel Lacroix, the Viscount's attorney. Is there any reason as to why you're harassing a heart patient?” 

“This is only a conversation.” 

“Guntram, do you wish to continue your “talk” with this gentleman?” 

“No,” Guntram answered sharply. 

“Then I will ask the Viscount to leave the room so we can work.”

“Is this a crime scene?” Michel asked nonchalantly. 

“No, this is...” 

“Then, it is you who are overstepping the Viscount's constitutional rights as this is his house.” Michel rose and eyebrow and looked how the technicians stopped their work and gaped at their superior. “I think this room has provided you with all it could, unless you'd prefer to remove the floor and pay for it later.” 

The young prosecutor threw an incensed look at Michel and left the room, followed by the other people. 

“Now he's upset.” Guntram admonished Michel. 

“He was already upset. I only showed him back to his place. These amateurs!” 

“Do you know something more than I do?” 

“Did you say anything?” 

“No.” 

“Good. Take the boys and go to my house. Fairuza knows that you're coming. She'll look after you. This can turn nastier.”

“I'm not going away!” 

“Guntram, hear me well. This whole thing is unheard of. When was the last time a Swiss banker was raided in his own home, especially this one?” 

“Never.” 

“So, it's something big. Go somewhere else.” 

“I won't leave Konrad alone,” Guntram protested energetically. 

“Guntram, this isn't the time to...” Michel stopped his tirade as Ratko stood by the door. “What is it?” he asked and the Serb looked abashed at the scolding tone employed upon him. 

“The police want to take the Duke away. What should we do, sir?” he asked.

“Don't start another Sarajevo,” Guntram growled as he quickly directed his footsteps towards the main stairwell. 

Out of breath he arrived just in time to see a pale Konrad, stand between two police officers and some men in dark suits, in the foyer. Dieter looked haggard as he held his one of master's summer raincoats in his slightly trembling hands. 

“May I?” Konrad addressed the oldest of the men and he only nodded. Without wasting a second, he took Guntram by the elbow and drove him to one of the small adjoining rooms, closing the door on the policeman's face. 

“What's going on?” Guntram asked. 

“I've been accused by a prosecutor in Manhattan, acting on the IRS behalf, of conspiring to help some Americans to hide their money here. They have issued an international warrant order against me.” 

“That's not a crime in Switzerland!” 

“It's debatable now, but that's for the lawyers to discuss with the judge.” 

“What can I do? Is there someone I can speak with? Ferdinand was arrested too.” 

“All of us are arrested at the moment under the FINMA's pressure. Tomorrow will be Hell at the office.” 

“What? Your banks and hedge funds stand fine.” 

“I've been accused of fraud, money laundering, massive tax fraud and a long list of things too.” 

“You withstood their last audit without problems.” 

“I did but they say now that we have helped some Russians to escape the UE embargo because of Crimea's mess. That's a crime.” 

Guntram took two steps backwards. “What should I do?” 

“Be quiet. They have nothing real against me. They only want to pressure me to get the names behind the accounts. Get Gandini and his people here. Everything will be finished by tomorrow.”

End of Part VII