Dig Two Graves: Revenge or Honor (26 page)

“So, how’s the patient?” AJ said as he limped into Ceres’ hospital room, the leather folio at his side. Gia was right behind him, a shopping bag with Ceres pajamas and toiletries in her hand.

“Better,” Ceres said. “You were gone a long time. I was worried.”

“I’m sorry, but you shouldn’t worry. Gia’s taking good care of me,” AJ said.

“Did you get it? Was it still there?”

“Calm yourself. You’ll get me thrown out again. We got it,” AJ said holding up the black notebook. And we got your paperback and something for you to wear. You need to get out of that hospital gown.”

“I better check with Nurse Mary before I change. She runs a tight ship. ‘Ship shape and Bristol fashion,’ she says. Did you look at it? I can’t blame you if you did.”

“No, I didn’t. It’s yours and you’ll share it with me when you’re ready. What is that smell?” AJ said, scrunching up his face as he looked around the room for pungent odor. He took a seat next to the bed.

“It’s Marmot ointment. It’s a homeopathic salve from Austria. Mary suggested I try. It smells bad but it helps with the pain.”

“Geeze, it smells like… like Ben-Gay and Pepto-Bismol.

Ceres laughed and said, “That’s exactly what I told her. Mary isn’t too bad once you get to know her.”

“And a motor mouth,” AJ said.

“And that… Mary has a kind heart though,” Ceres said.

“Mary, is it now? So you’ve bonded with your captor?” Gia said with a smile.

“Something like that. Let’s have a look at that notebook Ajax. It’s high time I showed it to you,” Ceres said.

“If you’re sure,” AJ said.

AJ tried to suppress the urge to squirm in his chair as excitement nearly overwhelmed him.

“Yes, I’m sure,” Ceres responded.

Ceres retrieved the small, worn black notebook from AJ. He held it gently in his hand, and turning it over, looking at it, he said, “This represents a great deal of your family’s history. Let me show you what it holds.”

“I think I should excuse myself,” Gia said. “You two have a lot to talk about.”

“Miss Donatella, you should stay. I mean, would you please stay? I, we could use your help,” Ceres said, his smile warming her.

“Certainly, Mr. Savas,” Gia said.

“Call me Ceres, please.”

“Ajax, you looked at your grandfather’s military transcripts and records. Do you remember what was in them?”

“I recall the date he enlisted, training records and his orders to ship out for England. He was wounded in Italy. He came home to a hospital in New York. After he was in the hospital, the records become somewhat vague. He went to Greece in 1944 and was there for several months. The rest was fuzzy. There was some vague indication he was missing, but the circumstances weren’t known. That’s about it.” AJ said.

“Fuzzy is good word for what happened. You have an excellent memory, Ajax,” Ceres said with a smile. “He only made notations about his time in Greece in here.” Ceres said, tapping the book.

“How did you know about Italy and New York?” AJ asked.

“The information about Italy is in the official record of course, but I learned a great deal from one of his men, George Zabt. He was on the train to the coast. Anna and I spoke with him. Actually the part about the train is the last thing that’s here,” He said holding up the notebook

“How did he end up marrying my grandmother if he was in the hospital?”

“According to Sergeant Zabt, it was near the end of his recuperation at the military hospital in New York City that he married your grandmother. They had been high school sweethearts. She visited him often. When he was recovered the Army was going to ship him back to Europe so they got married.”

“Did he talk about my grandmother?” AJ asked.

“No, not really. George said he met her after the war but didn’t say much about her. He did tell me John wanted a son and he was pleased to see Andreas. I guess John … He hoped the war would make the world safe for children in America, Greece, and around the world.”

“How did he end up in Greece? His unit wasn’t sent there.”

“He was transferred. The American Army was gathering men who spoke the languages of the occupied countries. They promoted him to lieutenant after his experience in Italy and assigned him to Company B 122nd Infantry Battalion. That was in the summer of 1943, but the battalion was disbanded not long after he arrived. Your grandfather volunteered for hazardous duty behind enemy lines with more than two hundred other men. They were transferred for temporary duty with the OSS, the Office of Strategic Services. They, along with the Rangers, were America’s first Special Forces. He trained in Maryland with British Commandos. It was quite the operation. The OSS was preparing to drop men into a number of countries, including Greece, to work with the Resistance. The British already had networks in the occupied countries. The OSS set up what they called Operational Groups, and your grandfather was in one of them.”

“Were these American groups in Italy?” Gia asked.

“I believe Italy surrendered before the American OSS groups were organized,” Ceres said. “But the ones sent to other countries were based in Italy, primarily Bari.”

“When did my grandfather go to Greece?”

“He parachuted into Greece 20 July 1944. Here’s the entry,” Ceres said, pointing to a scribble in the notebook. It was his first real look at the infamous notebook.

“Why isn’t it in the official records?” AJ asked as he took it in his hands.

“I don’t know for sure. My guess is it has to do with the secret nature of the work he did. The National Archive’s records have only recently been declassified. His parachute training in Italy is listed, though.”

“May I see that?” AJ said, reaching for the precious notebook.

He thumbed through the pages of history. His eye fell on countless initials, the people who had know his grandfather, and maybe places he had been were all there for AJ to see.

“What are all these initials?” AJ asked.

“He used initials for shorthand. It was strictly forbidden to keep a diary.”

“Why did he do it then?” AJ asked.

“George Zabt told me he wanted people to know what the Americans did in Greece. He wanted a record of their sacrifice.”

At the back of the old notebook, there was a note to Ceres and some scrambled letters.

The note said:

Ceres, Please forgive me for sending you away. You have been like a son to me. I had to know you would be safe. I hope you live a long happy life. GOD bless you. Remember to light a candle for me on my birthday. Lt. John

H Q T S R B S V H S G P T G S N E V U E X I F N P K T F F E E P Q W F Z O Y N J M G A Q M V J S J R

What is this, Ceres?” John asked.

“Your grandfather apparently wrote that note to me just before he sent me on the train to the coast. We were picked up by boats and taken to Italy, but I would have given anything to stay with him.”

“Is that when he gave you the gold bar?”

“Yes, it was in a bag with the notebook. I have cherished his memory through both these things,” Ceres said. He leaned back in his bed.

“What’s with all these letters?” AJ asked.

“I’m sure it’s important, but I have no idea what it could mean,” Ceres said. “It’s frustrated me for years. As I’ve told you, I have tried to learn what happened to your grandfather.”

“Did he leave you any clue? Is there anything in the notebook to tell you how to decode it?”

“No, and I have studied it repeatedly. I don’t think he would put the key to a code in the notebook itself, though. While we were together, we talked a lot. He spoke often about his time in the Boy Scouts. I tried the simple codes the Boy Scouts taught in the 1930's. I’ve researched code types from World War II. I took a copy of the message, if that’s what it is, to a mathematics professor I know at MIT. He thought it was a substitution code of some sort but gave me no leads. The key has to be something I would know or could find, but I’ve never found it.”

Ceres rubbed his eyes then his temples and leaned back.

“OK,” AJ said, “that’s enough for now. You need your rest.”

“I think you’re right. I am tired.”

“Gia, will you find out if we can put this in the hospital’s safe, please? AJ said to the Italian investigator.

Before she could answer Ceres cleared his throat held up one finger to get AJ’s attention and said, “Ajax, I have guarded that notebook for too long. Please, you take it. Perhaps you can unlock its secrets.”

“Are you sure?”

“I’ve never been surer of anything in my life.”

“All right, thank you. But I’m putting it in the hospital safe,” AJ said. “I’ll put your pajamas right here,” AJ said putting the plaid nightclothes on top of the small dresser. “Ask your keeper if you can change. I’ll help you into those things tomorrow if she approves. Oh, I almost forgot, we brought your paperback with the notes you wrote, too,” AJ said, handing his friend the paperback book.

“Ah. I’d forgotten about this,” Ceres said, taking the book. He took AJ’s hand and held it for a moment. The two men’s eyes met and an understanding passed between them. The truth was yet to be discovered, but they would find it together.

Nikko Solaris looked to the west, his hand up to block the afternoon sun. Concern lined his weathered face. A cool drink on the terrace in the afternoon normally took his mind off his problems, but not today.

Two of the best men money could buy went to Boston on his behalf to obtain vital information and eliminate a threat. They performed only half the job. In Greece, they failed again and brought attention to his activities. In Milan, they bungled a third time not even following his instructions to get the information then eliminate the problem. He had to act or soon their actions would lead back to him. Solaris, always wise in the ways of the world and crime, had kept his agents at arm’s length but something had to be done.

Solaris turned from the terrace, his brow still furrowed in disturbed thought, and entered through the open French doors.

His foot falls on the marble floors echoed off the dark carved beams high above him. Oddly shaped reflections of various hues from the ancient leaded window glass played over the polished floor. He moved through the vast room, toward his massive desk, the nerve center of his empire. Picking up the telephone, Solaris dialed a number in Bucharest. A telephone chimed in an office overlooking Herastrau Park and its picturesque artificial lake.

“Yes,” a voice answered.

“Secure line, please,” Solaris, said.

“One moment,” came the response.

The red light on top of Solaris’ telephone came on, indicating the secure line was in place.

“Secure line in place. How may we assist you, sir?” the distant voice inquired.

“Account number QW-34,” Solaris said, as he recited his confidential account number from memory.

“One moment,” came the response.

Solaris heard static, normal for the encrypted telephone line, as he drummed the fingertips of his right hand on the desk.

A new younger voice with a touch of a British accent, came on the line, and said, “How may we help you, QW-34?”

“I wish to open a new contract.”

“Security or special services?”

“Special services,” Solaris replied, inwardly smiling at the sterile terminology for arranging a hit.

“How soon is this special service needed?”

“Immediately. The targets are Alexandru Dobos and Anton Petru, both currently in Milan.”

“Payment arrangements?”

“Add it to my account,” Solaris said.

“Very well, sir, anything else?”

“Yes, three additional people, and recover an item, a book, held by one of them. The names are ….”

Gia’s townhouse was in the Porto Magenta area of Milan. Here, far from the Ill Duomo Cathedral and the frantic Italian traffic in the city’s center, the streets were a bit wider and the traffic a bit calmer. The houses were set well back from the street. Broad sidewalks, separated from the cars by mature columns of Tuscan Cypress, provided an idyllic feel to the neighborhood. AJ felt the quiet orderliness of the little enclave as Gia helped him up a short flight of granite steps to the front door. He leaned heavily on the railing as she unlocked the door.

“Are you sure this is all right?” AJ said as they came through the door. “I’m in no shape to argue, but I want to be sure you’re OK with my staying here.”

Gia put her keys in an amber Venetian glass bowl on a table by the door. “I wouldn’t have offered if it wasn’t all right. You’ll be more comfortable in my spare room than at the hotel,” she replied. Her smile warmed him.

“Well, if you’re sure,” AJ said, surprised he was so timid.

“I told you I’m sure. It’ll save me from having to drive across town to pick you up when we go to the hospital in the morning,” she said.

“I appreciate your help very much.” John said,

“Besides, I can cook a nice Northern Italian dinner for you.”

“No, no. You don’t have to cook anything, we can go out.” AJ said as he leaned heavily on the doorframe leading to the well-appointed living room.

“Right, since you’re ready to party all night. Come on in and sit down before you fall down.”

“It’s the damn pain killers,” AJ said. “They don’t kill the pain, but I’m weak and loopy. Wow, this place is beautiful!” AJ exclaimed, looking around the apartment. Muted pastels adorned the walls and plush furniture filled the expansive room. The effect of the color and the furnishings was soft and relaxing. A grand piano stood silently in a far corner tucked neatly into a large bay window.

“I bet the light from the window falls right on your music,” AJ said, nodding toward the bay window. “That’s just the place for your piano. Do you play?” AJ said.

“Oh that. Yes, my mother insisted I take lessons. We would often play together when I was a little girl. The piano was my mother’s. It’s a Burger and Jacobi studio model. I got my love for music and the piano from her,” Gia said with a smile.

“Burger and Jacobi…I don’t know that one. I guess I only know Steinway and Yamaha, oh and Kimball.”

“It’s a Swiss piano. My piano tuner tells me it’s valuable. He always asks to buy it when he comes.”

Gia held AJ’s hand as he eased down onto a soft leather couch and she helped him put his feet up on a hassock. He let out a low groan and forced a smile back to her.

“You would really be hurting without the drugs,” Gia said. “I’ll whip up some dinner while you chill. You need to rest. You can’t help Ceres if you’re all worn out.”

“You’re right. I just don’t want to admit I’m not in control. I’ll be good,” he said.

“I’ll be back shortly. Close your eyes and catch a nap while I get us some dinner,” she said.

Thirty minutes later, with a Caprese salad, saffron risotto, and a bottle of crisp, light Arneis on the table, Gia called AJ. When he didn’t answer, she went to the living room where she found him softly snoring in a deep sleep. Gia took a light blanket from the hall closet and covered her exhausted and battered guest. She smiled at the handsome young man passed out on her couch and chuckled.

Gia put the dinner away, turned out the lights, and took a plate of risotto and a glass of wine to her office.

In the solitude of her office, Gia slowly savored her risotto to the sound of Tchaikovsky’s The Seasons for Piano on the Internet radio. She kicked off her shoes and put her feet up on her computer desk.

Codes, smuggling, leaks, organized crime… How do these  things connect to long dead people, she thought to herself. What are they not telling me? When the computer loaded her personal settings, Gia opened her link chart program and a blank spreadsheet. She had used link analysis in her work at Europol and Guardia di Finanza. The link charts she created helped her to visualize the complex relationships between people, addresses organizations, and transactions and many other types of entities. Gia made a simple database for each case to ensure the information she collected was safely stored. Working quickly, she created a spreadsheet with the names, addresses, dates, and events she had learned about from AJ and Ceres. Understanding how people and events relate to one another was vital to Gia’s investigations at EUROPOL and the GdF. She continued to use the technique in her private investigations work.

She opened her database program and copied the basic fields from her last investigative database to a new blank one. Gia entered her spreadsheet into the database. The data import went smoothly, but she still checked to see the information had correctly populated the database fields. Now that she had a database set up she could query or add to it from her computer or her smart phone whenever she needed to. Her brush with death with AJ had delayed Gia from starting this most basic of investigative steps. Now for a link chart.

Sometimes the link chart told her nothing she didn’t already know, but reviewing the information visually was helpful to her. She understood things best when she could see them, see the relationships drawn out on the paper or the computer screen. Knowing who the players were, and their connections to each other would either raise more questions or give the investigation a direction.

Gia dumped the spreadsheet into her link chart program. The computer spit out a diagram of the relationships in the spreadsheet’s data. The image on the computer screen looked like an organizational chart, but instead of plain blocks, this chart had icons labeled with the names of people. She could add all sorts of icons for people, organizations, telephones, or vehicles, depending on the data. A solid line between icons indicated a confirmed or known connection, while a dotted line told of a link that was tentative or unconfirmed.

A solid line connected Persons icons labeled Ceres Savas, Andreas Pantheras and AJ Pantheras. A solid line also connected Ceres to John Pantheras, George Zabt, Christos Stavros, Nikko Solaris, and all the men in John Pantheras’ OSS commando unit. A dotted line, indicating an unconfirmed relationship, connected John Pantheras to a question mark for the unknown Greek Army major and German Colonel Max Dorn. Dorn connected to Solaris and to the question mark. The Solaris icon connected to an icon for an organization, Ambrosia LLC, the name of Solaris’s parent company and the heart of his multibillion-dollar empire. Two Persons icons were connected to each other but nothing else, Dobos and Petru, the suspected assassins from the incident at the hotel in Greece and the attack on Ceres. Gia looked at the icon labeled Ambrosia LLC. She had learned of Ambrosia LLC from an earlier Internet search, but now she needed to know more. Taking a sip of her wine Gia looked over the chart and sighed.

“Not much information here,” she said. “Most of these people are dead.”

On a legal pad at her elbow, Gia quickly jotted down some thoughts.

Bank records? 

What banks?

Deceased people

How did they die and when

Dobos and Petru

How are they connected?

Who hired them?

Phone Records

Gia leaned back in her desk chair and reached for her wine. She had accomplished a great deal but didn’t know much more.
Spinning my wheels
.

John Field’s
Romance for Piano in E Flat Major
came on the Internet radio. Gia recognized one of her favorite pieces and took a deep breath. Relax.

She had found clearing her mind was the best way to escape the frustration of her work. When answers don’t come, clear your mind, her father had taught her. She sank back into the chair and let the music carry her away.

The piano sonata was just finishing when her cell phone rang.

“Ciao,” she answered.

“Gia, my dear, how are you?” Alessandro Moretti said.

“Aha, Uncle Alessandro, I’m fine, thanks, and you?”

“Busy as usual, I’m afraid. That’s why I haven’t called you. How are you and your friend after your close call this morning?”

“I’m fine, but he clearly saved my life,” Gia said.

"I know. I am most grateful to him. Where is he by the way? I called the hospital, his hotel and…” Alessandro said.

“He’s here, Uncle Alessandro. He’s asleep. I thought he would be more comfortable in my guest room, but he went sleep on the sofa. It sort of defeated the purpose.”

“Is that such a good idea, bella?”

“Perhaps not, but I did it,” Gia said. “He is a client, but he’s a client in danger. I can watch him better here.”

“Be careful how closely you watch, bella. He is in danger and I think now you are as well,” Alessandro said. “Information is beginning to come in.”

“Oh, what have you learned?”

“The locals fingerprinted that van that narrowly missed you two. Guess whose prints they found?”

“Petru or Dobos?” Gia asked.

“Known contract killer Anton Petru,” Alessandro said.

“Anyone else?”

“Some smudges, but nothing identifiable except the regular mechanic and the delivery driver,” Alessandro said.

“Have you gotten anything back from the Justice Center on the picture you sent them?” Gia asked. “You emailed me that the photos we sent were OK for comparison.”

“Yes, that’s why I’m calling. The photos of the man calling himself Solaris do not match the passport picture.

The man in San Marino calling himself Solaris is not the same man who was in the Greek Security Battalion during the war. The age is right, late eighties or early nineties but it’s not the same man.”

“I was afraid it wouldn’t be that easy,” Gia said.

“I know.”

“Besides, I was able to confirm that the Solaris from Greece lost his left arm during the war. The photos I found of his execution show a one-armed man,” Gia said.

“Well, that was a dead end,” Alessandro said. “Sorry. That was my attempt at being funny.”

Gia was quiet.

“Gia, are you still there?” Alessandro said.

“Yes, I’m here. Sorry. I was just thinking. Uncle Alessandro, there’s something else I wanted to ask you. Can you find out what banks Solaris uses and maybe get his bank records?”

“Gia, you know I can’t let you have information like that,” Alessandro said.

“Yes, I know that but can you get it? I can always look over your shoulder.”