Read Into the Lion's Den Online
Authors: Tionne Rogers
Into the Lion's Den (64 page)
“Guntram, you just had to take one of your pills because of my yelling. You obviously are not up to this. Besides, I
need to speak with you.” He disentangled from my arms and it was a real disappointment! He sat on the couch by the
window and made a gesture so I could sit on his lap (honestly, a lousy consolation prize considering what I was after)
I sat and laid my head against his chest and he petted my hair, looking at me lovingly. Although he had just given me
a fright, I melted and sighed contented.
“Maus, I need to stay in New York for three weeks and I can't take you with me. First, I thought to send
you to Argentina with Antonov so you could visit your friends there, but the doctor told me that it's a very long
journey and he discourages it. I was now thinking in sending you somewhere in Europe for a week or two, but if you
have to work, I don't know what to do with you.”
“Konrad, I promise to leave the Meissen set alone,” I joked.
“You would never get to it. Friederich custodies it with his life, but this is not my point. I worry that you
might be bored here. The Strolch, Armin, will be in the bank and running under Michael's boot. He's not going to be
the nicest person when he comes home, if you understand me and I want to keep my stocks' values high with you.”
“You make the rubbish and run away!” I laughed.
“Like most people,” he laughed in a charming way and I kissed him. “Perhaps you would like to go to
San Capistrano and make the sketches of the Cardinal there. D'Annunzio would be more than delighted to get another
chance to invade my house again. I can invite them. Maria Domenica loves you and she will feed you well.”
“That would be very nice!”
“All right, then you go next week to Rome with Antonov. Take all what you need for working.”
Just like that I was sent to Italy, once more with a Russian as chaperone. Fortunately, Alexei is a very
nice person. I'm not so sure if Jean Jacques is going to be happy about it.
I'm dead on my feet. I worked like crazy today with the Cardinal. As Konrad predicted, D'Annunzio
dragged the poor Righi Molinari who hates the idea of having a portrait of himself. He was working in El Salvador
and Nicaragua and speaks perfect Spanish. We got along as our views are very similar and I made the sketches as he
was telling me about his past. He even showed me the photos of his time there and I took several ideas from there.
Maria Domenica behaves like a grandmother to me and she certainly feeds me… and I haven't heard
Alexei complaining about his share!
Although I feel a little homesick (is that the word?) because Konrad is not here, I enjoy the city very
much.
I think I saw Stefania in a restaurant Alexei took me once so I would see Rome at night. I told him that
she was there and wanted to say hello, but he dragged me out of the place! I'm not jealous of her or do something to
importunate her! She was just a good friend as Konrad told me.
The meeting with D'Annunzio and Molinari Righi had been a success as both men had approved the portrait's concept art and the first had been very impressed with Guntram's work.
“You might get a permanent position here, young man. Continue to work hard. I'll inform his Grace how pleased we are with your development.”
“I'm honoured to be given this opportunity, your Eminence. It's every artist’s dream.”
“Ostermann showed me the pictures of a Madonna you plan to send for an exhibition in Berlin. She has indigenous traits and is dressed like a peasant with the Jesus child in her arms, surrounded by dense foliage. I wondered if…”
Guntram paled at hearing the words, 'I'm dead, I pissed off the priest, theologically speaking.' “I can explain it and it's not finished yet,” he said in a hurry, interrupting the old man but freezing under his stare. “All right, I don't know why I did it. It just felt right to paint her this way.” His voice sounded very sheepish while he slouched in his chair. “If you think, it's inappropriate, I will put it away immediately, your Eminence.”
“Why would you do it?” Molinari asked. “I also saw the photos and I believe it's a painting full of Grace.”
“But she's not canon, I mean, I didn't want to be disrespectful or anything, but she's not usual.”
“I was thinking to ask if you could reserve the picture. One of our patrons has offered to buy and donate it for the Modern Art collections. We have paintings from all over the world and we would be very honoured to have it. I understand the Duke's Foundation is one of our main benefactors but we can't let him buy this paint too and give it to us. We would be abusing his generosity.”
“Ah. I should ask Dr. Ostermann, he's my manager and teacher. I'm not sure if the quality meets your standards.”
“It does. Do we have your agreement?”
“I can give it to you and send something else. Nothing is decided yet. I only need four or five pieces.”
“No, that paint should be exhibited. It's too good to be hidden in a vault. We were four of us looking at it at the Treasury and we couldn't agree on the feelings it evoked in us. One of my secretaries told me it arose in him the same emotion he had when he saw Fra Angelico's frescoes in San Marco.”
“This too much, your Eminence,” Guntram murmured embarrassed at the praise.
“All right, my son. Go in peace now.” D'Annunzio said, smiling to soften his words and rising to offer his hand to be kissed. Guntram jumped to his feet and knelt to kiss the ring and repeated the action in front of Righi Molinari.
“Please, take this Rosary with you. His Holiness has blessed himself.”
“I'm most grateful your Eminence.” Guntram said and left the room. When the aide closed the door behind him, he felt his knees turn into jelly and his head spin around. He let a long sigh out and had to grab a chair to recover himself something.
“You look as if they had pulled out a tooth from you,” Alexei joked, rising from the chair where he had sat to wait for his charge.
“They liked the portrait and want one of my paintings for the collections here. I was compared with Fran Angelico and got a Rosary from the Pope himself,” He blurted at full speed.
“You forgot to mention the part when you have a heart attack. Please, don't do it on my shift, Guntram, Pretty please? The Duke will kill me if I don't return you in one piece to Zurich.”
“I need something strong to drink.”
“All right, I'll buy you an orange juice outside.”
Guntram laughed “Only that?”
“Remember the part of not dying on my shift?” Alexei chuckled. “Let's get out of here. I'm Orthodox and perhaps one of them wants to convert me. Come, if you were a good boy, I'll buy you dinner in a nice place just to celebrate.”
“You have been hanging around with Heindrik for a very long time. Well boy, it's pizza and a very good one according to Jean Jacques. He should know because he...”
“Won two Michelin Stars for the
Königshalle
and one more for
Au bec fin
in Paris,” Guntram filled in the sentence, reciting what he had heard many times over the months, specially when the Chef was arguing with Friederich over something.
“Exactly! He has as many medals as I!”
“You forgot the Bocuse d'Or part.”
“Doesn't count. He studied with the man. Perhaps it was arranged,” Alexei said seriously.
They had an early dinner and Alexei agreed to let Guntram take half a glass of red wine. Suddenly, the Russian stopped his tale about how he had smuggled a bottle of vodka in an Afghan village and looked to the entrance door. The boy, still laughing at Alexei's inventive followed his eyes and the laugh died on his lips.
Standing in the door was Constantin Repin with six of his men. Mikhail Massaiev was among them and smirked at Alexei in a wolfish way.
Constantin walked toward their table and sat, when Alexei moved his hand to his jacket, he only raised an eyebrow. “Do you want to kill all the innocent families here, Aliosha? This is not Kabul. My men will shoot if you try anything and your two colleagues will die needlessly. I only want to have a word with my angel. In private.”
“You're breaking the terms! You have no permission from the Duke to take him away!”
“I'm just borrowing him for a few hours,” Constantin smirked. “When I'm finished, I will return him to San Capistrano myself. You can go and have a drink with my people. Some of them still remember you.”
“The Duke will kill you for this and I will be very happy to be there when it happens,” Alexei growled.
“Be more concerned to come home tonight before you plan to repeat the favour you did to poor Olga last July. I never imagined that you were so adept to Pavicevic's methods. Next time you kill someone, bury the trash please. The police have been giving me a very hard time with each piece of Olga they find. Do you keep them in a freezer and throw it every time you need to make my life miserable? The poor woman deserves some consideration.
I'm sick of opening the vault to put the pieces in.”
Guntram was horrified and on the brink of a collapse while he heard Constantin speaking with such coldness and scorn. His mind was telling him that his monster was dead and somehow Goran and Alexei had been involved, but he couldn't understand it really or wanted to accept it.
“But I'm not here to speak about the past, Aliosha. You had your revenge for what happened in ‘96 and Lintorff got rid of my wife. I always thought that she had something to do with the snitch we got over your uncle's smuggling weapons without sharing with me. Thank him in my name. Guntram, go inside the car with Mikhail Petrovich. Now!” Repin shouted as the boy was looking at him with true panic in his eyes. He didn't move a muscle at the command. “Don't make me take you there. Your men will not survive this night if you play difficult.”
Guntram rose from his chair and without looking at Alexei, he went to the entrance, where Mikhail smiled encouragingly to him: “Did you bring a coat, child?” Unable to speak, the boy shook his head negatively.
“Well, you should have. It's chilly out there. Relax, Guntram, nothing will happen to you. You're too valuable to hurt,”
Massaiev whispered and took him by the arm, forcing him to follow him to the black BMW parked at the front door.
He opened the back door and gently pushed Guntram inside, taking the place next to him. Inside the car were the driver and another man.
“Don't worry, we go to the St. Regis. We were there, remember? It's just a talk with the boss and I will take you back to Lintorff. Did you take your night pills, child?”
Guntram again shook his head and took the box out of his jacket to show it. “Good boy, take them now.”
Massaiev ordered him and placed a bottle of water in his hand. The water's taste was strange and Guntram grimaced after gulping the two pills. “It's one of those flavoured fancy waters, child, nothing to be concerned,” he lied, calculating that with that sip, the tranquillizer would relax the boy. “Drink some more,” he pressed the bottle to Guntram's lips and he drank, afraid that his refusal could hurt Alexei and secretly desiring that what was inside would kill him. “That's enough, Guntram. You're a good boy. We all missed you a lot. Mr. Repin's children love the book you sent them. The smallest one, Vania, asks me when you're going to come home. He's very lonely since his mother passed away, Guntram,” Massaiev sighed. “Here we are,” he said when the car stopped at one of the hotel's side entrance. “I'll take you to the suite and you can wait for Mr. Repin there.”
Massaiev had to steady Guntram in the private lift when he almost dozed standing. 'Half a bottle was too much. If he falls asleep, it would be better for him.' With some effort, he managed to take the youth to the bedroom because he was certain that he would fall to the floor if he left him in the living room. 'Inappropriate but I have no other chance.' With infinite care, he removed the jacket and shoes, and laid him against the pillows, almost asleep and without the strength to fight back. Massaiev covered him with a blanket and Guntram closed his eyes for a moment, losing his conscience a few minutes later.
“I will never grow tired of watching you, my angel,” Constantin said and grabbed quickly Guntram's arm before he could jump away from his touch. “Be nice!” he growled, “or do you prefer that we have this conversation under different circumstances? Remember, your three bodyguards' lives lie in my hands.”
Constantin released the boy's arm when he was sure that Guntram had understood his position and decided to cooperate. “That's much better, angel,” he praised and let the boy sit on the bed, his back stiff but partly lying against the pillows. For a second, he studied the terrified face in front of him and smiled in triumph. “I only want to talk with you without Lintorff's interference or his hounds snooping like they always do. We have many things to discuss about our future.”
“Constantin, I told you in London, there's no future for us. I thought you understood this,” Guntram said with a very weak voice.
“Angel, you are not thinking clearly, that is pretty much obvious. You never recover yourself from my former wife's attack and you were terrified all the time in St. Petersburg. When you went to Zurich, you changed airs and perhaps you mistook that fact by a real healing process. Being away to what was familiar to you, helped to forget what you suffered under her. You should not worry any longer about this because she's finally out of scene.”
“Is it true? Is she dead like you told Alexei?” Guntram asked in shock.
