Dig Two Graves: Revenge or Honor (20 page)

AJ was having more than a good time. Gia seemed to be warming to him. She laughed and smiled. She even touched his arm. Signor Moretti, Alessandro, turned out to be a delightful man and remarkably well informed.

“Gia’s father, Giorgio, and I started out together in Guardia di Finanza. The GdF is the Italian law enforcement agency responsible for financial crime, smuggling, and anti terrorism activities,” Alessandro explained. “We have hundreds of ships and planes that patrol the coast and analysts, that's what Gia did for us, who monitor banking activity. There are enforcement agents like Giorgio and me who do a little of everything. It’s a good place to work. It’s important work,” Alessandro said with obvious pride.

“So it’s sort a combination of the U.S.’s Coast Guard and Secret Service?” AJ said.

“And Homeland Security, too,” Alessandro replied.

“Uncle Alessandro is Deputy Director,” Gia added.

“I’ve been with Guardia di Finanza twenty-eight years,” Alessandro said.

“So you are more than just a detective,” AJ said.

“He’s much more than a detective.” Gia smiled and shrugged and AJ was captivated.

“What can you tell us about Nikko Solaris, Uncle Alessandro?” Gia said. “AJ is looking into connections with his family and some very old crimes.”

“I’ll tell you what I can, but I hope you will return the favor and give me what you know. You will see why it’s important,” Alessandro began.

“I don’t know much. My friend Ceres Savas has most of the information, but we will share what we have,” AJ said.

“Thank you. We’ve had people identified as primary targets, like your FBI’s Most Wanted criminals, for years.

Solaris is the only one ever identified as primary target we haven’t taken down,” Alessandro said.

“The man’s into everything, black markets, smuggling, money laundering, illegal immigration, drugs, counterfeiting, and even terrorist financing. But he’s also made a fortune in legitimate businesses like oil, shipping, and commodities speculation.”

AJ looked at Gia. She was indeed well connected, he thought, and well put together.

“Why couldn’t you get him?” AJ asked.

“He didn’t become a billionaire by being stupid. He keeps transactions at arm’s length, further if he can,” Alessandro said. “He uses one of the biggest banks in the country, too, Banco Media Roma. It’s all very respectable, on the surface.”

AJ thought about some of his criminal defense clients, the smugglers in particular. Could there be a way he could get an insight into how Solaris conducted his business through them? This guy does the same things, AJ thought.

“His place is a fortress. He has the best high-tech security, a small army of bodyguards, and the local police are, well protective. We tried electronic surveillance on him once from a hilltop overlooking his compound. The local police were on us inside of twenty-five minutes. Our Italian government credentials didn’t impress them at all. It took three days to get us out of the country. San Marino is an independent principality, very independent.”

“What do you know about his background?” AJ asked.

Alessandro sank back into the rich leather sofa, wine glass in hand. “We think he’s a Greek national. He came to Italy as early as 1946, maybe earlier. He started by smuggling cigarettes. Many men did back then. He worked with a couple of aid groups slipping undocumented refugees into the country, but he was smuggling and gun running from the beginning.

“Does he have any business in Greece?” AJ asked.

“He ran guns for both sides during the Greek the Civil War. He’s an old timer in black markets throughout Southern and Eastern Europe. He was making deals before the Cold War, particularly with the old Yugoslavian and Romanian governments. He made a fortune running guns. Hell, he even sold stolen tanks during the Bosnian war.

“How do you smuggle a tank?” AJ asked.

“I don’t know how, but he did it and more than once. He’s a pro. He’s smuggled everything from transistor radios to American cars. You need ships to smuggle, and Solaris owns two shipping lines, maybe 150 ships, and boats of all sizes. He has used his criminal proceeds to build an immense legitimate business empire.”

“You said you think he’s Greek. What’s that about?” AJ asked.

“The birth records on him are suspect.”

“Oh, how so?” Gia asked, leaning forward. During her time with Guardia di Finanza, she had not heard anything about this.

“The only record on file for him is a Greek baptismal certificate issued in Athens in 1920. We got a copy of it when he applied for an Italian passport. During the war, the Archbishop of Athens arranged for false baptismal certificates for Jews trying to flee the country. Nearly all of them were dated 1920, so anything from Athens, anywhere in Greece for that matter, with that date is subject to question today. They could be legitimate, but we think this man got one of those fake certificates. Either he had it made or stole it.”

“Why would he do that?” Gia asked.

“To get out of the country, I suppose,” Alessandro replied.

“Why would he want to get out of the country? He was working for the Germans. Why wouldn’t he use his own name?” Gia asked.

“He was working for the Germans? I didn’t know that,” Alessandro said. “See, you can help me nail him,” Alessandro said, looking over at AJ. “Why leave the country? Who knows?

He could have left once he had the certificate, during or even after the war. Many official documents were destroyed so customs officers accepted nearly anything that looked official.

As to the name, I don’t know. Maybe he thought no one would be able to check. At the time, they couldn’t.”

AJ had been listening carefully, his chin resting on steepled fingers. He looked up at Alessandro, leaned forward, and said, “When I was with Army JAG, I defended a man charged with murder at Fort Hood. That’s in Texas. The guy was on the run for eight months. Some small town cop stopped him because he didn’t dim his headlights when he passed the cop’s car.”

“What does that have to do with anything?” Gia said.

“Give me a minute,” AJ said, holding up one hand. “They stopped him because of the headlight thing. The cop claimed it was an indicator of a possible drunk driver. He didn’t show the cop his driver’s license because naturally that would identify him, so he said he’d lost his license. The cop asked for his name, and he made one up.”

“OK, so he made up a name,” Gia said.

“The name he made up was the name of guy wanted for a different murder. He got arrested anyway because he was unlucky,” AJ said.

“So Solaris is a name our man made up?” Alessandro said.

“Or the name of someone he knew,” AJ said, sitting back in his seat. “Nikko Solaris shouldn’t be alive. He got the baptismal certificate or some other document, maybe years ahead of time just in case. He didn’t use his own name. He’s just unlucky.”

“Whoa,” Gia said. “That’s a good theory, but how do we prove it?”

“I don’t know,” AJ said, “but at least we have a place to start.”

“Gia,” Alessandro said, “did you tell me the Greeks executed Solaris?”

“Yes, in the late 1940s. I don’t recall the exact year.”

“If that’s true there must be archival photos of him somewhere,” Alessandro said.

“What good would that do?” AJ asked.

“I do some pro bono work for the Justice Center in Switzerland. They use photo-aging software. It can take an old photo and give you an approximation of what a person would look like today,” Alessandro said.

“That’s how they’ve identified some of the Nazi war criminals they’ve found, isn’t it?” AJ asked.

“Yes it is,” Alessandro replied.

“I wasn’t able to find a picture of the Solaris living in San Marino in my research. He’s quite a recluse,” Gia said.

“We can get a copy his Italian passport photo to make the comparison,” Alessandro replied.

“It might not hold up in court, but it sure would be a good start to know who he is,” AJ said.

“May I use your computer, Uncle Alessandro? I saw some old pictures of Solaris when I was searching this afternoon,” Gia said.

“Get me a good facial photo, Gia. I can email it to the Center’s Bern office. I’m sure they will take an interest in this man,” Alessandro, said reaching for his laptop.

Two hours later, Gia was saving the last of a half dozen 1940s era pictures of Nikko Solaris to Alessandro’s computer.

“These should be fine,” Alessandro said, looking at the pictures. “This full face one should do nicely. I will email these to the Center. The tech guys there are good. They’ll be able to tell us if the aging software will work on any of these.”

“That’s great, Alessandro. Thank you,” AJ said. “You’ve been a wealth of information and a big help.”

“Yes, my dear Uncle Alessandro, thank you.” Gia said leaning over and kissing Alessandro on the cheek.

“You’re welcome, but my motive for helping you is in part a selfish one. I want this man, too. Let me know of your progress. I believe we can work together on this.”

“We had better get going if I’m going to get you back to the hotel tonight,” Gia said, looking at her watch.

“It’s too late to go back to Milan. I have a second floor full of empty rooms. Stay tonight and I’ll make you breakfast.”

“OK with me,” Gia said. “I haven’t had one of your country breakfasts in ages.”

“Whose fault is that?” Alessandro said. Turning to AJ, he said, “How about you, AJ?”

“It is a long drive. Sure, that would be great. Thank you. I guess it’s too late to call Ceres though,” AJ said.

“Wonderful. I’ll freshen up a couple rooms and get you two settled,” Alessandro said.

“Oh, let me help,” Gia said as she stood.

“No. If I’m going to learn to be an innkeeper, I need to do this myself. There isn’t much to do and it will only take a few minutes. You two go out on the terrace. The vineyard is lovely in the moonlight,” Alessandro said.

Gia led AJ through a set of French doors out to a broad terrace as Alessandro disappeared up the stairs. The vineyard, rolling down gentle hills, spread out before them, under a hazy crescent moon. The crisp air was alive with soft night sounds. Fireflies danced in the moonlight.

“Thank you for bringing me here tonight. I’ve learned a lot, and I think I know where we’re going with this, what do we call it, a case?” AJ said.

“I was sure Alessandro would have a useful perspective. I’m surprised he shared so much,” Gia said. “I guess he hopes by sharing what he knows you will share what you know.”

“I’m willing, but honestly, Ceres is the one with the knowledge. He’s been looking at this for years,” AJ said. “We both have our agendas, but I’m sure now we will get some answers. With Alessandro and his agency in the background, we may just solve this thing. Thank you,” AJ said.

“It is beautiful here, isn’t it?” Gia said with a sigh. “I haven’t come here since my father was killed. This is the last place I was with him before ...” her voice cracked with emotion then she was silent. Gia looked out into the darkness and said, “I haven’t told Uncle Alessandro, but I’ve been afraid to come here, afraid of the memory. Please don’t tell him.” She paused to collect herself. “He’s not really an uncle you know. He was my father’s best friend, and he has looked out for me since I was little.”

“I didn’t realize it was difficult for you to come here. I’m even more appreciative of what you’ve done,” AJ said.

“It’s OK. Being with Alessandro and with you has made it less painful than I expected,” Gia said, putting her hand on his arm.

“I’m sorry for your loss, Gia. How long ago was it? Do you want to tell me about it?” AJ said, thinking of the passing of both his parents.

“It’s been a little over a year, but there isn’t much to tell,” she said, lost in her sad memories. “He left Guardia di Finanza. I was never sure why, and opened the private investigations office. He knew many of the lawyers in Milan…”

“And they trusted him, so he got a lot of work. I know how that works. I’m an attorney, remember?” AJ said.

Gia smiled, and AJ felt warm all over. “Yes, I’d forgotten,” she said, patting his arm again.

“He was on surveillance for a divorce case. Divorces can get ugly in Italy. He was in his car taking pictures of the husband with his mistress. The police found him in his car the next morning. He’d been shot six times.”

Gia paused, closed her eyes, and took a deep breath.

“The Polizia Provincial, the local police, found the gun and traced fingerprints back to a street kid with a record of robbery. The kid was convicted but I was never sure he was the right one. My father still had his wallet, and his expensive cameras were still in the car,” Gia said, trying to keep her professional detachment intact.

“I think I know how you must feel. My father’s murder was just a few months ago. That’s what set me on this trail. It’s how I met Ceres,” AJ said.

“He’s a nice man,” Gia said. “I like him.”

“Just him?” AJ said moving closer to Gia.

“I like you, too, AJ. You’re interesting.”

“Just interesting?” AJ said tilting his head toward Gia’s face and her inviting lips.