“Take the elevator to the sixth floor. I’ve got people up there now. As I speak, they’re making an office for you, Walter Deaks, and Billie Dukes.”
“How do I get into this building? Sometimes I like to work crazy hours.”
Louise removed a laminated pass key from her briefcase and handed it to Tavaris. You can use this, twenty-four seven. Don’t lose it. She stood and shook his hand. “Nice to meet you, Peter. Come and see me again, and let me know if you need anything. I’m at your service.”
Tavaris smiled as he left. He had what he needed. He rode the elevator to the sixth floor, stepped out then removed his cell phone from his jeans. He speed dialed Ken Layton’s private number.
“Where are you?” Layton asked.
“In the new Iacardi New York headquarters. It’s on Park Avenue.”
“You have access?”
“Unlimited. No security.”
“Is there phone service in the building?”
“Yup, and our little sweetheart’s got one.”
Layton had planned to exclude Tavaris from his fact finding mission, but his 24/7 access to Iacardi’s new headquarters was too tempting. “Keep your cell on. You’ll be receiving a call, within the hour.”
CHAPTER 20
Muskoka. Tuesday, October 9.
The weather was terrible. A thick and solid layer of grey clouds had hung over the area for twenty-four hours and refused to move. Wind blown rain made outdoor activity very uncomfortable.
Steve decided to postpone a trip to his north Lake Joseph construction project and wait out the weather. Instead he lit a fire in the pot bellied stove in his kitchen and drank more coffee than he should. Cinnamon was added to the blend because he loved the smell and the taste. He had read and re-read Kerri King’s reply to his note and gift of flowers. He read it again.
“Dear Steve;
“Thank you very much for the roses. It’s difficult for me to tell you with written words how much I appreciate your kindness. If you’re ever in New York, call me. Dinner is on me. We’ll continue our conversation.
Fondly, Kerri.”
She included her cell phone number.
In his carefully crafted note to Kerri he had deliberately imbedded a thinly veiled message that he wanted to see her again. Her response was a clear indication, he hoped, that the feeling was mutual. Even though guilt tormented him, he really hoped her invitation was something more than kindness, or sympathy. His desire to see her again had trumped all of his efforts to suppress it. He was engaged to marry Christine, but had reached an age that no longer afforded the luxury of trial and error. He had to be certain.
He picked up his cell phone and dialed Kerri’s number. She answered on the first ring.
“Hi, Kerri. It’s Steve Montieth. I hope I’m not calling at a bad time.”
Surprise and joy shot through Kerri’s body like a high voltage electric shock. “Hi yourself. Nice to hear from you, and to take time out from the usual madness. How are you?”
“I’m just fine, sitting alone in my kitchen, drinking coffee, and looking out the window at an absolutely miserable Muskoka day. Everything okay with you?”
“With me, yes. With my life, no. It’s been a little crazy since September eleventh.”
“I can only imagine. I saw you on television last week and want to tell you that I thought you did a wonderful job of telling the world who you are, and the full extent of the problems you’re facing. It gave me an insight. In a lot of ways it helped me to deal with my own loss.”
“Thank you. How is your mother dealing with it?”
“Not well. She really loved dad. It’s like her heart has been ripped out of her body. It’ll be a long time before she gets this behind her, if ever.”
“I’m sorry to hear that. Please tell her she’s in my thoughts, and that I would welcome an opportunity to talk to her. It might help her to know what I’m going through.”
“I will, and thanks for offering. You’re very kind… I would welcome an opportunity to talk to you, too. That’s why I called. I’m going to be in New York on Friday for the annual American Home Builders Association Convention. I thought I might get a chance to continue our conversation, if you could find the time to have dinner with me that night.”
Steve’s invitation was like a ray of sunshine on a dreary day. It awakened feelings in Kerri, feelings she had not experienced in a very long time. It also triggered her defense mechanism, one that the scars of her previous relationships had strengthened, one that screamed at her not to date a man who was engaged to be married. Her heart won the battle. Her memory of his beautiful hazel eyes and perfect body made it no contest. Besides, she could use a friend, particularly one with whom she shared a very unique bond. “Sure. I’d like that,” she said.
“Then I’ll call you at noon on Friday. I’m looking forward to it. I’ll leave it up to you to pick the restaurant,” Steve said, relieved and delighted that he had at last made something happen, something he had wanted to happen since the moment he saw her.
CHAPTER 21
New York. Thursday, October 11. Midnight.
Tavaris used his new pass key to enter the new Iacardi headquarters on Park Avenue. As he had expected, building was empty. Still no security. Accompanying him and carrying a large black bag was Lorenzo Mengalli, a tall and muscular communications specialist with Xylox Inc., an obscure subsidiary of Enerco. Once inside, both Mengalli and Tavaris put on night vision oculars, then hurried to Kerri’s makeshift office on the second floor. It took Mengalli less than a minute to install a bug in Kerri’s telephone. The bug was sophisticated enough for her calls to be monitored and recorded, round the clock. They gave each other high fives, then hurried from the building.
CHAPTER 22
New York, Friday, October 12.
Kerri had recaptured the excitement of a teenager about to attend her first high school prom. She made reservations for two for seven P.M., at Beppe, a cozy new trattoria on 22nd Street, one of New York’s best Italian restaurants. She chose it because she loved Italian food and because newspapers had given it rave reviews. She chastised herself for feeling compelled to dress to kill for a date with a man she hardly knew, but on went her most expensive white silk blouse and her black leather Pierotucci skirt and jacket.
Steve, equally excited and dressed in the only decent suit remaining from his corporate days, took a cab from the Javits Center to Kerri’s apartment. The sight of Kerri for the first time since his father’s memorial service was not disappointing. She was even more beautiful than he remembered. It troubled him, yet intoxicated him.
“Hi,” she said, her heart racing and defeating her efforts to slow it. “Welcome to New York and my humble home.”
Steve tore his eyes from Kerri and scanned her apartment. “Humble? I don’t think so. It’s sensational. Next time you’re in Muskoka I’ll show you a humble home… It’s good to see you again. I’m glad you agreed to do it.”
Kerri smiled, also happy she had agreed to the meeting, but not knowing how to respond. “We have time for a drink. Would you like one?”
“Sure. A cold beer would be great.”
Kerri fetched a Heineken and a glass of white wine, then invited Steve to sit with her at her elegant glass topped kitchen table. She clinked his glass with hers. “Here’s to continuing our conversation,” she said, sensing guilt over her compulsion to stare into Steve’s eyes. Sharing a common and unique bond with him afforded her a measure of relief from that guilt.
“I’ve been looking forward to it. This time we won’t have any interruptions… The first thing I want to do is apologize for going on about myself and not asking any questions about you. I was so busy talking about my own personal grief that I didn’t give you a chance to talk about yours. I had no idea that…”
“There’s no way you could have known,” she interrupted. “Besid
es, my father and Karen didn’t give you a chance.”
“How are you coping?” he asked.
Kerri frowned. “I’m in the fight of my life. That’s the short answer. The long one would take all night.”
“I don’t care how long it takes. I’d like know about it.”
“Then let’s go to dinner. I’ll get started there.”
It was no surprise to Steve when they entered the restaurant and everyone turned to stare at the blond beauty accompanying him. He knew she had become a celebrity, but still sensed that Kerri’s beauty was the real attraction. They were led to a secluded corner table, and after they were seated, Steve ordered a liter of Malbec, the house red wine. Again they clinked glasses.
“Are you Canadian?” Steve asked.
Kerri nodded. “I was born in Toronto. Then my parents split before I was old enough to know what was going on. My mother was awarded custody and moved to San Diego soon after the split. Her relationship with the man she followed there didn’t work out, so she moved to Vancouver. That’s where I grew up.”
“I’ve been there. It’s an incredibly beautiful city… How does a Vancouver girl end up in New York?”
“I married an athlete. He was very good at playing football. He was so good he became the quarterback for the New York Jets.”
“Brian Pyper?”
Kerri nodded. “How did you know?”
“I didn’t. I just guessed… Mind if I ask what happened?”
“He was injured in a game against the Buffalo Bills. Football was out for the rest of his season, so he replaced it with booze. We laughed about it at first, but eventually it became a big problem, for his career and our marriage… We were divorced eleven years ago.”
Kerri’s expression made it obvious to Steve that it was time to change the subject. “Okay, now for the big question. How does a Canadian girl from Vancouver become the president of Iacardi & Sons?”
“I’ll give you an abbreviated answer… I took a commodities course on Long Island. The lecturer happened to be a trader with Iacardi, and looking for an assistant. He picked me and taught me everything I know. His name was Miles Dennis. He was the kindest, most caring individual I’ve ever known.” Tears appeared in her eyes. “In many ways, he was the father I didn’t have.”
“I don’t understand. Isn’t Mike King your father?”
“He is, but he wasn’t part of my life until much later. My mother made sure of that. He tried to preserve the relationship, but she made it impossible for him. That’s another very long story, but it had a happy ending. Dad and I eventually found each other and we’ve had a very special relationship, ever since.”
“What about Miles Dennis? You spoke in the past tense. Did he…”
“He didn’t make it out,” Kerri said, tears now flowing. “It broke my heart.”
Steve reached for Kerri’s right hand. “Then you lost a father too,” he said, wishing he could take her in his arms and hug her.
He had not only made an observation with which Kerri agreed, his touch was comforting, therapeutic. Part of her wished it was more than that. “I did. I adored that man. The hell of it is that I adored his wife, too. Now she’s alone, with no income. She, and hundreds of people in the same position, are the reasons I’m in the fight of my life. I want those people to have a continuing source of income, and I think reviving Iacardi is the only way to make that happen. I’m doing everything I can, but there are people who are making it difficult.”
“Who?”
“Two of the company’s surviving employees want to sell the company. They claim they have a verbal offer from Enerco, a Houston based multinational. I’m not objecting to the sale. I’m objecting to the terms. The price is reasonable, but the buyers aren’t interested in helping the people who’ve lost their breadwinners. If that sale happens, too many estates will end up with nothing.”
Steve stared at Kerri with an expression of unconditional reverence. “You are an amazing woman. I had a feeling when I first met you. Now I’m certain.”
Kerri blushed. “You give me too much credit… Enough about me. Tell me about Steve Montieth. Who is he?”
“I’m still looking for the answer to that question. I’ve made a lot of progress, but I’m still not sure. Compared to yours, my history is fairly mundane. I was born and raised in Thornhill, a suburb of Toronto. Happily married middle class parents. Educated in Ontario. Got a job with an international construction company. Travelled and worked all over the world. Then I quit, came back to Canada, and started a small time construction company in Muskoka. The bad news; I’m struggling financially. The good news; I’m happier now than I’ve ever been in my life.”
“Why did you quit?”
“I got tired of debt, pollution, and corruption. Almost everywhere I travelled, I saw governments piling up debt, then asking their taxpayers to service it. I saw people, companies and governments polluting their environments without any consideration for the consequences. Finally, and this is the straw that broke my back, everywhere my company went, it had to pay some government official under the table before it could put a shovel in the ground.”
Kerri was impressed and amazed. Steve Montieth was not only a ten, he had the courage to act on his convictions. Unfortunately, he was engaged to be married. She smiled. “Would you do me the honor of allowing me to call you my friend?” she asked.
“I’d be disappointed if you didn’t.”
Dinner consisted of Capelli D’Angelo Alla Mediterranea, angel hair pasta with sea scallops and shrimp, simmered in a light garlic sauce, basil, fresh tomatoes, and white wine. Over Steve’s objections, Kerri paid, as promised. The evening ended with a hand shake at the door to Kerri’s apartment. Both wanted a much more intimate ending, but knew it was impossible. Both also knew that further dating would be a giant step over an invisible and very dangerous line.
“Thanks for a wonderful evening,” Kerri said.
“It was my pleasure,” Steve replied with his irresistible smile. “I have a new friend. That’s very important to me… Will you stay in touch?”
Kerri nodded. “You too.”
CHAPTER 23
New York. Monday, October 15.
Kerri lifted her receiver and dialed the private telephone number of Wilhelm Lentz, an officer with the Geneva headquarters of Liechtensteinische Comco AG. Lentz answered on the first ring.
“Hello, Wilhelm. It’s Kerri King. I’m calling from New York.”
“Ah yes, Miss King. Very nice to hear from you. To what do I owe the pleasure of your call?”
“I’m planning to visit our Geneva office on Friday of this week. I was hoping you could spare me some time later in that day, after three P.M.”
“Most definitely. Three, P.M. would be satisfactory?”
“Thank you. I’ll call you if there’s any change.”
“May I ask what this is about?”
“Yes, I’m planning a major change to the account Miles Dennis administered for my benefit. It’s extremely important that I discuss this with you in person.”
“Very well, Miss King. I will look forward to your visit.”
The entire call was recorded.
Houston, Tuesday, October 16.
Jeffery Wheeler, Enerco’s senior vice-president, entered Ken Layton’s office. “We’ve got something on the Iacardi problem,” he said, displaying a confident smirk. He placed a digital recorder on Layton’s desk, pressed the play button, and waited for his reaction. Both listened in silence to the playback of Kerri’s conversation with Wilhelm Lentz. Wheeler pressed the stop button when the playback ended.
Layton, obviously intrigued, stared at Wheeler. “Tell me what you think we’ve got here,”
“Okay, but first let me play the recording of what Peter Tavaris said on September twenty-second.”
“Never mind the recordin
g. I know what Tavaris said. Just tell me what you think we’ve got.”
“I think Kerri King’s hiding a shit load of money, and it’s all in an account with Liechtensteinische Comco, in Geneva, Switzerland. I also think we should know a lot more about it.”
“Why do you think she’s hiding it?”
“I don’t know, but she obviously is. Why else would it be in Switzerland? If you listened to the recording, she told Lentz that she wanted to make a major change, in person. She would’ve done it over the phone if she didn’t have something to hide.”
Layton tightened his lips and nodded. “I can’t fault your logic. Did you remove your tap?”
Wheeler smiled. “Mengalli did it with Tavaris’s help. He sanitized the place, clean as a whistle.”
“Good. What do you know about Lentz?”
“Run of the mill middle aged Swiss banker. Married. Two teenaged girls. Lives in Geneva. No criminal record.”
Layton stood and walked to his floor to ceiling windows. He spoke without turning. “I want Iacardi,” he said, then turned. “Let me be more succinct. We need Iacardi. To get it, we need to adjust Kerri King’s attitude… I think we should wait until she has her little pow wow with Lentz, then let the boys from Belarus have a little chat with him.”
CHAPTER 24
Geneva, Switzerland. Friday, October 20.
Dull grey overcast conditions prevailed as Kerri, protected by her black raincoat, entered the six story stone clad headquarters of Liechtensteinische Comco AG on Quai du General-Guison. She was greeted by an exceptionally tall blond blue eyed receptionist. “Welcome to Geneva, Miss King,” she said with a commercial smile. “Mister Lentz is expecting you.” She lifted her gold plated receiver, dialed Lentz’s exchange and announced Kerri’s arrival.
Following the receptionist’s instructions, Kerri rode the elegant paternoster lift to the fourth floor. Lentz met her as she emerged.
Wilhelm Lentz, short, chubby and completely bald, wore a black silk suit and matching tie. His pudgy face was heavily freckled. His light grey eyes were framed by gold rimmed round spectacles. His teeth showed the effects of years of heavy smoking. He extended his right hand. “Good afternoon, Miss King,” he said with a generous brown smile. “Please come with me.” Using his left hand, he pointed in the direction of his office.