TS 3 Chapter 17

Chapter 17

August 17^th, 2014 

Veiled tears, fighting to fall from Konrad's eyes were the last thing Guntram wanted to see. He would have preferred a thousand times to have Konrad openly crying than doing his best to keep his emotions in check. Self restraining never brought anything good to them; Konrad would withdraw to himself and become silent. A silence Guntram feared. 

Carefully and feeling full of doubts, Guntram placed his head on Konrad's shoulder and took his hand within his. He hoped that his presence would be enough deterrence to prevent Konrad from falling into the dark abyss of cold fury he well knew. 

“Why didn't you tell me before?” Konrad whispered furiously.  

“You were very sick and then... I couldn’t do it,” Guntram admitted with a broken voice. “I didn't want to make you... sad.” 

“Didn't you think that I had the right to know?” 

“I did but I thought it was for the best.” 

“I didn't attend his funeral, Guntram. Friederich was like my father.” 

“The judge didn't allow it when it happened and then, you couldn't have come. He's resting next to your father, just as you wanted.” 

“He died while I was in prison. I failed him.” 

“No, you didn't! It was a set up...” 

“Please.” Konrad put his right hand on Guntram's lips to silence him. “I want to see him now.” He rose from the bed and walked towards the door. “Alone if you don't mind,” he added before he closed the door behind him. 

*  * * 

Soft footsteps forced Konrad to lift his gaze from the stoned floor. 

“It's one in the morning, Konrad,” Guntram sat on the pew next to him. “You should return home now,” he added softly but Konrad turned his face from him and once more his eyes were glued to the engraved stone on the floor. 

“Is it all right?” Guntram asked. “It's not definitive. I thought you might want to change it.” 

“You didn't write down all his names.” Konrad spoke. 

“I remembered that once you told me you feared he would come back to haunt you if you wrote them down. I asked his sister and she agreed with me that “Friederich Elsässer” was the way he wanted to be remembered. The flowers are from our garden as he wouldn't have approved that we spent money on something so trivial. Is the inscription all right?” 

“'Friederich Elsässer. Beloved Mentor,' is fine but he was more than that.” 

“I know but on the other hand, Friederich refused all earthly displays of power. He was a modest man. I spoke long with his sister and she agreed with me but she also says you can change anything you want. She also gave me his breviary for you.”

“Was it for me or for you, Guntram?” 

“For me,” Guntram confessed and cast his eyes down. “I think she wasn't thinking straight. Maybe you should have it.” 

“No, it's yours.” Konrad said dryly. “You were more his child than I ever was. He loved you since the first time he saw you. He was always taking your side.” 

“Konrad, he was a father to me as well as he was yours. He didn't make differences between us. He would also tell me off sometimes.” 

“It's my fault he's dead.” 

“The doctor said...” 

“I don't care what he said. He died the day he saw that article. I nearly died when I saw it.”  

“Forget about it. There were other problems before that. He knew it.” Guntram said emphatically. “Your family's behavior in this whole mess was a bigger stab to the heart than this stupid piece.” 

“My family? What did they have to do with this?” 

“I argued with them because your Aunt Elisabetta and Cecilia expected me to pay everything and refused their help to me. My father pressed them into giving me some money for the bail. Without Michel's help, you'd still be sitting in that hospital room.” 

“Did you ask for money to my family?” Konrad asked incredulously. 

“Of course, I did!” Guntram shouted. “It's the least they could do if they had no problems to extend their hands each time it was bonus day at the bank.” 

“You shouldn't have! We had more than enough.” 

“Yes... In tax havens! I had to pay the salaries from my own pocket because I had nothing left when we were embargoed. My father pressed that judge into letting me get my hands into your wealth. My hands were tied and I was left alone to face everything. What should I've done? Sell the companies we had? Destroy other people's lives just because your family shouldn't be bothered with some lesser things like helping their own blood?” 

“We will discuss that later, Guntram.” Konrad replied dryly as he did a tremendous effort to keep his temper in check. “You shouldn't have involved my aunt into this,” he admonished Guntram through clinched teeth. “It was my duty to solve this problem.” 

Obfuscated, Guntram rose from the pew and fulminated Konrad with his blue eyes. “We will discuss all what happened during these two months tomorrow. Good night.” 

* * * 

Guntram de Lisle's diary 

August 18^th, 2014 

I really don't understand what's going on. I really don't. It was supposed to be a moment of happiness, well, not of happiness because we have lost so much in so little time, but at least of relief and bonding together. 

That's what normal people would do after a catastrophe; sit and count their blessings. Meditate on all what had befallen upon them. 

But we are far from normal.

The morning started bad, with a crankier than usual Konrad. We hardly spoke during breakfast and I guess that made Dieter run away and never bring the tea I ordered for the Duke. He can start forgetting about his morning black coffee. 

The second clash came right after breakfast. I was about to leave our rooms when he asked me where I was going. “Monika isn't coming today,” I said. “Juliet will take her place and I have like six meetings this morning.” Meetings I was preparing all Sunday afternoon after I broke the news about Friederich to him. I don’t have the luxury of thinking in anything else besides work nowadays.   

“In case you didn't notice, Guntram, I'm back,” he told me and that did it. Maybe I inherited my grandfather's bad temper after all. 

“In case you didn't notice, Konrad, you suffered a heart attack. Your doctor said no stress at all and that means no working at all. Excuse me.” I closed the door on his face. 

Of course he wouldn't lose the battle so easily. Ten minutes later, he was in the library, dressed and ready to take over. 

“It's time I return to my duties,” he said in a tone that meant “get the fuck out” and Juliet who was letting some documents on the desk, simply ran away at his tone. 

I stared at him and would have needed to count up to a thousand to calm myself down. “By all means, Konrad,” I smirked. “It's very simple today, really. Tell Meyers we disagree with his proposal; to that round beetle of Aldono that our legal team think that this thing of his will never pass EU laws; to the people of Cars United that their capital ratio is insufficient for our standards and refuse to anything Ingolstadt Inc, asks you to do. They already tried to scam us with two million.” Konrad looked at me dumbfounded and I said. “Is that clear? Should I write it down?” 

“No, but I would appreciate if you would be so kind as to enlighten me about the reasons of your choices.” That sounded quite close to irony and it irked me even more. 

“I would but the beggars parade starts in ten minutes.” I replied sweetly. “They don't like to be kept waiting and please tell the people from Trading Metals to make their proposal more detailed if they want our support. Ah, don't take that shit of giving us only 7% of their company for 28 million. Say it's 38% or nothing. Their trading platform is rubbish and I'm only buying it in order to sink it and get rid of them.” 

“Excuse me?” He looked now really lost and I felt a bit bad for him but his place isn't here at the moment. He should be resting, not meddling with my affairs. 

“I'll phone Wu now. The Chinese market seems to be sneezing today.” I left the place to Konrad but he didn't take it. 

“It seems you have things quite under control.” 

“You should be resting. As I couldn't cancel these meetings yesterday, I'll ask Juliet to do it with tomorrow's. I'll brief you in the afternoon.” 

“No, it's all right,” he said with great dignity. “I'll go back to my rooms and see you at lunch.” 

“I can't. I have lunch with someone in Zurich. I'll call you later, but the boys should be here the whole day. They missed you a lot.” 

He frowned. The idea of spending the day with them isn't so appealing as telling Guntram to do it. Suddenly, I realized that for him it's OK to send Guntram to the nursery but Konrad von Lintorff can't be there. 

“We still have pending the other thing; the Order. I suggest that today we leave the people alone to meet with their families and organize a council meeting for Wednesday. Here or in London,” I said. “There are many things to discuss.” 

“Should I not be doing that?” he seethed. 

“Officially I'm the Hochmeister but the minute we all meet, I'll resign and someone else can be named in my place.”

“Goran is the Hochmeister, Guntram.” 

“Goran's popularity is less than zero among the Komturen or the associates at the moment. Look for someone else for the job because there'll be an upheaval if he wants it back.” 

“You seem to be quite against your brother,” he said ironically. “Especially after you took over his job.” 

“Goran's pals offered it to me.” Really, that was too much; suggesting I was doing it all for the joy of getting the “crown”. “Pals who have turned everything upside down and created more problems than those they were supposed to solve,” I added because I still want to skin Ratko alive for what he did to Barashi. We have liberals from everywhere, crying out loud for the “hate crime” of an honest Albanian immigrant with the nice carpet shop in San Polo neighborhood. Idiots!

Konrad slammed the door behind him and I felt bad because he shouldn't be under all this stress but he doesn't want to understand what it means to suffer a heart attack. In a way, I understand him because people made me feel like a cripple but on the other hand, if they hadn't done it, I would be probably dead by now. He's going to be really upset when he finds “hospital food” on his Meissen Swan Set. Jean Jacques knows what to do and I was glad that I had already scheduled my lunch out. 

The morning went relatively well with the meetings and I was called “vulture” only once. Trading Metals' supreme jerk was quite upset with me (why do people think artists cope with all shit for free? Look at Picasso. He was a fantastic businessman) but finally agreed to let us have 49% of the company for 40 millions. That's a fair price. The father of Meixu phoned me with an offer for the bank's building and it was a very good one but I had to decline it. He was a bit disappointed but I offered him to travel to Tianjin and smile for the cameras while he sells a new promotion of luxury houses there. For some unknown reason, Chinese people think that European nobility is something super exclusive. They had an empire running from before us!

Then, just before I was leaving, the man from Salisbury phoned me to say he had a real offer from an Emirati edge fund to buy the bank for 1.7 billion Swiss francs. I said no, that we wanted to withdraw the property from the market and that all his expenses would be paid in full. He was upset with me because I think his commission would have been far larger with the sale than what he can charge us by law. I asked Michel to look for someone to write the “rejection papers” as I'm sure Altair is behind all this. I don't want any false steps in this case as Merenguetti is loose now. Michel promised me he would meet with the hedge fund people.

I had lunch with Marina, the public relations lady and Julius. I was shocked to see my photos in a magazine and a bit embarrassed to say the least. I looked like a perfect dodo but they said the editor was happy as the issue had been sold out quickly. The next article, the one in San Capistrano, is due next week. 

Marina gave me a long list -which I quickly passed on to Monika- of parties I should show my face at the “photo calls” (?) Fortunately, Julius said I only have to look nice for the picture at the entrance and show a product or two (????) 

“Is this the moment when I dazzle the world with the new and unique “Trollex pour la minorie”?” I asked ironically. The thing they wanted me to wear was trash. Who in his right mind would pay so much money for a clothes brand watch when you can buy the real made in Switzerland one for the same price?

“You're impossible!” scoffed Julius. “Wear that watch, hide the Breguet, and smile for the camera. It's up to the snobs to decide if they can afford to wear it.”

That shut me up and the 100.000 donations the Lintorff Foundation will get for six parties. Michel told me that the funds are a little strained at the moment and that he's in the middle of a not so cold war with Elisabetta. She ordered an audit of all Michel's cash operations. He's quite irked with that. I cross my fingers and hope that this blasted thing keeps good track of time while I have to wear it (for the paparazzi's sake because one could get a picture of me wearing the Breguet instead of the “Trollex”)

My hopes of returning and finding a more appeased Konrad were crushed the minute I crossed the threshold. Dieter was more than crossed when he informed me that an audit of his management was an insult to his twenty years with us. I did my best to calm him down telling that the duke didn't mean it and that he only wanted to be informed about the general condition of his houses. I lost half an hour with that but I should be grateful that Kurt distracted Konrad for three hours in the afternoon or we would have been left “staffless” by the end of the day. 

People have different ways of coping with grief and loss but picking on the staff isn't such a great idea. In the end, it’s your china set the one which suffers the consequences. 

Juliet was on the brink of tears and I have no idea why. According to Konrad “women are volatile and whimsical creatures” and I shouldn't pay any attention to her. 

I sent the children to have tea in the garden because Konrad's sullen expression didn't forbade anything good. I swear he made a face when Nicholas set the teapot in front of us. 

“We Germans have Kaffezeit, Guntram. We are not bloody Russians to drink tea.” 

“Perhaps Germans who aren't recovering from a stent surgery.” I barked back and it was Nicholas' turn to run away from us. “Low fat scones are good for you,” I added. “You drank it when I was sick.” 

“It was different,” he stressed the word and I understood that playing the knight in the bright armor is quite different from being the damsel in distress. 

Nevertheless, he drank his tea and informed me that he had already organized a meeting-dinner with Ferdinand, Goran, Michael, Alexei and Ratko to discuss “matters regarding the Order”. 

“You're missing several councillors,” I pointed out bitterly because that was supposed to be my call. Wasn't it? I still “carry the crown”. “Like Holgersen for example or Di Mattei and Gorgazali too.” 

“We would like to evaluate your performance in private, Guntram.” 

I would have loved to smash the teapot on his head; Guntram, the prick has to save their asses and he gets an audit? Not a fucking thanks, even? Since early morning I've given up to the idea of hearing someone telling me “congratulations” on my first crisis management experience.  

“Yes, indeed,” I seethed. “Finally we are making some money,” I added ironically. “Your numbers weren't looking so good as they used to.” Sorry, I couldn't help it. “Don't worry, I'll call them. They already know all what I do. I have a more cooperative outlook of the situation than yours.”

“I said private, Guntram,” Konrad ordered me with that voice he uses to say “he doesn't like to repeat himself” and was effective on me some seven years ago.

“Very well,” I answered with that sweet tone of mine he hates so much. I finished my tea and went to work to the nursery, next to that psychedelic lobster of Kurt’s. At least that guy is silent. Needless to say that Konrad had “reoccupied” his desk at the library and “evicted” me when I was out. The boys were a bit shocked to see me there but said nothing while Kurt took advantage of the “asylum granted to his father” and made me draw a portrait of his lobster. I had dinner with the boys because Konrad was having dinner with his “pals” and they forgot to invite me. 

At around ten, I was “summoned” because there isn't any other word to express their kind “invitation to have a drink in the library”. I went downstairs and there they were; Goran, Ferdinand, Michael, Albert, Adolf, Alexei and Konrad, still defending his beloved desk. Does he plan to go to bed with it? I should have known. The only time in my life I saw him paying a toll, he nearly had a nervous break down when I took the ticket from his hand and threw it inside my pocket so he could drive away. “When are you going to give it back? You could lose it,” he asked me rather pushily and I laughed back then but not now. 

After the usual social greetings, I sat in one of the sofas, next to Alexei because he's also “on trial”. Ratko arrived late and mumbled an apology as he sheepishly sat near Goran. Five days ago, he was quite nasty to me.

“If I would have known, I would have called my lawyer,” I said sarcastically because all of them were looking at me accusingly. 

“Do you need one?” Ferdinand barked but I held his furious look. 

“No. I just lent you one.” I finally said and waited for they had to say. 

Goran started the fire because the others looked upset and distraught at the same time. “I understand that there were a few changes going on here,” he said to me softly. 

“Yes, I stole your job, my brother and I'd love to give it back as soon as possible.” I said. 

“Is that so?” 

“This is a hellish job.” I replied. “I couldn't have done it without Alexei and Ratko's help. I'm not qualified for it.” 

“It doesn't look like it, regarding your tampering with France,” Albert interfered ironically. Sometimes he thinks he’s at his cousin’s level and we say nothing just to be nice to him. 

“Yes, it is considering that it was the Komturen who offered it to me and your protégé, Lahon is a lazy idiot who can't keep immigrants from smuggling explosives right under his nose. Alexei can provide you with the military details of the operations.” 

“This is not the way we do things, Guntram,” Konrad said and Alexei cringed. 

“Perhaps your way wasn't what was needed at the time. I only used our Komturen's resources, which were freely given to us, to control a situation that was going astray.” 

“By using spies, tortures and then disappearing the bodies?” Adolf asked me and I looked at him puzzled. The nerve of them! Concerned about a dirty war when they...? Never mind. 

“We did what was necessary until we had a few disagreements with the logistic teams.” That was on purpose. 

“You put us out of the game!” Ratko shouted. He never had much of a calm demeanor. We know why he has an ulcer. 

“The Executioners were not what we needed at the time. What was your big plan, Ratko? To hang an ISIS lowlife from Notre Dame's gargoyles? My way is better. Relatively clean and good for the authorities. Nothing to explain to the press. The message was certainly understood.” 

“Guntram, you went against what's written in our Code.” Goran told me dryly. 

“Nobody spoke to me about its tactical section,” I replied sarcastically. “If you were planning to start a new religious war in France with me as your patsy, well, you chose the wrong person for it. I'm not proud of what we did and I had my doubts, but I saw the physical evidence provided by our intelligence and my methods were the best course of action, considering how much pressure we were subjected to. We are recovering the hashish market in Marseilles -and our contacts in the Middle East if Barashi wouldn't have been murdered- and forced ISIS to look for another way to infiltrate our territories. I'm sure that the Gamonal we found wasn't going to be used for  July 14^th. Everything was going relatively well until some people thought their way was better.” 

“Barashi was executed for treason,” Ratko growled. “He tried to dupe us with his figures and was disregarding your orders of “no Sunni” in our lands.” 

“So what?” I huffed. “Your people murdered him and now we have a bigger problem in our hands. We lost our main liaison to the Middle East.” 

“You spend too much time with Muslims, Guntram.” Ratko accused me and I looked at him dumbfounded. For heaven's sake! Fairuza is a nice woman and she's quite harmless when she's not in a mood. 

“Like this Emirati sheik, for example.” Ratko added and they all looked at me as if I were the Antichrist. “The pictures were in a magazine even.” 

No, I was beyond the Antichrist phase by the way all of them looked at me. Konrad looked as if he were about to explode. 

“I celebrate that you can keep up with the tabloids, Ratko.” I told him. “Yes, there is a photo of me and Sheik Altair bin Rashid Al Madani at Gulya's birthday party in London, a lady you told me to sponsor. Her father is quite happy that all his money was transferred to Bahamas without arising any suspicions and that his name was deleted from the investigation. He's looking forward to do more business with us, gentlemen.” 

“What were you doing with this person?” Ferdinand asked me. 

“We met in the plane to London and at the party. Nothing else. No business with him at all.” 

“Why did he then make a public offer to buy my bank?” That was Konrad and he was quite furious at me. 

“I guess it was a good opportunity for them. We rejected it and put the property out of the market within hours.” 

“Why did you nearly sell my bank?”

“Because the cash for your fine doesn't grow on trees.” I seethed at what he was implying. “Or people were ready to chip a dime or two for all of you. It was a diversion created to keep people looking elsewhere while we gathered the money. Its transfer was quite complicate.” 

“You were quite rude to my mother,” Albert told me with an accusingly tone. “I never thought you would.” 

“I wasn't rude at all. I was quite shocked that your family was more keen on keeping the money than you.” I replied heatedly.  

“You behaved like a boor to my Cecilia.” Ferdinand said and that did it. I lost it. 

“I was terribly sorry to hear how delicate your financial situation was, Ferdinand. I apologize if I didn't know that your wife had less money than Monika who offered all what she had for Michael's sake. Fortunately, Cecilia's father found 700 million in a drawer and offered to buy us not even three hours after I had spoken with the real estate agent.” 

Michael looked quite proud of his wife. “I didn't take her money, finally,” I told him. “We found another way to get it.” 

“You should have never involved the women!” Konrad shouted at me and that's funny because he's the biggest chauvinist I've ever met but behaves like Sir Pay-a-lot when a lady thinks about getting her purse out. “We had more than enough resources!” 

“Sure we did but unfortunately all of you were rotting in quod because of something called money laundering. It was the perfect day to start moving funds around and get the Americans on my neck too. Silly me I didn't think about it.” 

For a second, they looked abashed at their own stupidity and tendency to jump to conclusions. Wait, we are in this mess just because of that; not enough planning but arguing with them is a waste of time. They reinforce their beliefs just by sitting together. 

“What did you do?” Michael was the only one with enough brains as to ask because posh boys believe billions grow on trees, waiting for the take. 

“Marvin,” I answered and Michael laughed merrily. “Three weeks ago I spoke with Lavrov about the possibility of channelling some of the money through HFT and he agreed with me. In fact, we weren't caught with our pants down because that thing read a twitter post and knew in advance of the arrests. It closed down all of our operations and moved the money in a way that I can't still explain and I really doubt any human can do.” I explained. 

“Marvin did all this?” Michael asked me again. He looked genuinely surprised. He's the stepfather of the creature and doesn't believe in it? 

“You should speak with Lavrov and his pals. He tried to explain it to me but I didn't catch half of it, but I can tell you that the thing works, perhaps a bit fast for my taste. It's a breakthrough for computational science.”

“Who's Marvin?” Ferdinand asked, clueless as usual. 

“A software program. Sort of.” I said. 

“Did you allow that... monstrosity to be operational?” Konrad asked me in total shock. 

“It was already operational when I took over,” I replied. “I only used it to try something new as the people from St. Lazarre were expensive and ineffective. I needed 2.3 billions cash and nobody -with the sole exception of John Althorpe- was going to lend me a dime. High Frequency Trading (something you should be doing more as everybody does it) sounded like the best way of cleaning the money while keeping its origins secret. In fact, we have to thank that thing, Marvin for running away and continuing to trade in other places while the Americans shut our front hedge funds down. Do you really think that your ecological supermarkets could be able to keep us afloat or the Komturen be happy without money?” 

“Guntram!” Ferdinand scolded me as if I were a child. “You had no permission to do all this. It's not the way we do things.” 

“I beg to differ.” I shook my head. “Konrad signed those authorizations after we married and if I have to pay the salaries of your people from my own money because you are embargoed, then I think I have a saying on the matter.” Konrad was looking at me transfixed as if I were someone he didn't know. “I don't know how you run things because nobody ever bothered to tell me but I did my best to keep the Titanic afloat.” 

“You certainly docked her in New York,” Michael intoned proudly while the others gave him a dirty look. So I guess that was my “thank you, Guntram”.  

“St. Claude and I began to change the business in London. I fired all the traders.” I looked at Konrad in the eye. “Your business model was outdated and frankly, it was costing us money. In three months more we will be established in a dominant position in many virtual markets and we have to hurry before Citigroup or Deutsche Bank overrun us.”

“Guntram did an amazing job,” Alexei supported me. “No one can deny it. The Komturen are very happy with him. Ecstatic, I would say, that Guntram took the Order to the twenty-first century -in less than two months- with the boost he has given to artificial intelligence. For the first time in years, I can look at our future with optimism. With him, we stand a chance. Without him, we are certainly doomed.”

That was the nicest thing anyone has ever told me. “Thank you, Alexei,” I said overwhelmed. “This is not the time to argue over my tone to your wives and mothers but to see how we are going to carry on from now onwards.” 

“How? You quit and we take it over from now onwards,” Konrad told me dryly and I gaped at him. Was he really kicking me out of the tree house (once more)? 

“Very well, my resignation to my Hochmeister duties will be tomorrow on your desk, Konrad.” I growled. Fuck him! He's firing me! My father, after all, was right to write a large bill for his services (and the idiot of me fought with him because of that) Be this a lesson for you, Guntram. 

“In Goran's,” he growled back. 

“He has less chances than I to be elected ever again.” I snorted. “And we, sorry, all of you have a problem because people want Konrad back but he’s convalescent and can't take the position. So good night to you and good luck.”

I went to bed, furious beyond reason and -of course- complained of all what had happened to Michel. He was expecting it and told me not to worry about it as it wasn't my problem really. I should be more concerned about my own businesses because, finally, it is what's keeping my accounts fat. 

“Lintorff has always been like that,” my father told me for the hundredth time. “I know him since before you were born. He's now jealous that you're better than him and can do well on your own.”

“Konrad wouldn't be such a prick.” 

“Yes, he would and you know it.” My father stated. “My house is open to you.”  

“It won't come to that.” 

“If he tries to sue you, I'll tear him to pieces.” 

“You're exaggerating, father,” I said but I didn't feel very sure about it. Yes, maybe we're heading towards the winter of our discontent.