Into the Lion's Den (48 page)

“Ready your things Guntram, I'll take care of them. It's semi formal tonight,” Friederich finished.

“Why do you still look after Konrad?”

“Old habits die hard. I cleaned his nose countless times: once more will not kill me. Besides, that's what his father would have wanted,” Friederich answered softly before closing the door.

Guntram sighed while he searched through his papers for something that could be worthy showing and wasn't related to Chinese Greeting Cats. 'That sounds like those two had something more than a professional relationship and Konrad knows and accepts it. Well, his greatest love was another man. I wonder what could have happened so they broke up. Konrad seems to be a pretty decent fellow. My first impression about him was very wrong.'

Good Friday, April 9th 2004

The Mass was in the morning at 10 o'clock sharp. No doubt they're Germans. Already at 7 a.m. the
house was a pandemonium, full with hired servants, more bodyguards than for an international Presidential Summit,
a tense Goran checking everything, the famous sword nowhere to be seen, a very serious Konrad dressed in a
mourning suit with his cousin, Albert von Lintorff sitting at his right during breakfast doing his best to cheer him up
and I, feeling like a lone pea in a huge pot, unaware of where I should sit.

From nine onwards the house started to shrink. So many tycoons, members, together are too much for
anyone. I escaped to the kitchen and Jean Jacques gave me a cookie—I didn't ask for it!—and kicked me out. I had to
return to the living room and in the corridor a man stopped me and I felt very nervous because he had a strong grip
on my arm.

“So, are you de Lisle?”

“Yes, I am.”

“You're going to get us all in a lot of troubles with that crazy Russian. Why don't you disappear and
make us all a favour?”

When I was going to tell the asshole that being here was not my idea, Konrad appeared out of the blue
and barked: “Fortingeray, remove your hands from the boy!”

“Griffin, we should return him to Russia. Keeping him here is dangerous for us. If the Russians kill him,
it's their problem, not ours.”

“Fortingeray, your opinion is duly noticed, but rules are rules. He's one of us and from a much older
line than yours. We will discuss all this at the meeting. Guntram, go with my cousin.” I swear he fulminated the man
with his look.

I looked for Albert von Lintorff and he was speaking with several men more and I remained in a corner.

“Guntram, sit with me, child,” the prince zu Löwenstein asked me from the sofa he was sitting with
another old man, in his 70's. “Come here, we don't bite any longer.” he told me again and cracked a smile. “Rasim
Mladic Pavicevic, this is Guntram de Lisle.”

“How do you do?” I said thinking that perhaps this one was related to Goran.

“You look very much like your uncle Roger. Goran has spoken with me about you.”

“I couldn't tell, sir. I never met my uncles or any other member of my family.”

“Good for you. According to my nephew, you're nothing like them. He tells that you're like our Pavel; an
artist too.”

“Guntram paints well and has no interest in our projects, Mladic. He will remain as an outsider.”

“In that case, I have no buts if this is what the Griffin wants. That Russian will get over it,” the Serb
replied and both men forgot I was there, like a good flower vase.

“Ferdinand von Kleist is still against us.”

“He may dissent with us, Gustav, but he will not vote against us. We have already five of eleven votes.”

“Six of eleven votes, Wallenberg will side with the Duke. He's not exactly thrilled but he supports his
Griffin. With von Kleist is enough.”

“Goran tells me you will sit with him in the Mass. That's a clear signal for the rest of the associates. It's
simply stupid to place the blame of our confrontation with these people on you. The Russians want to come to our
land since a long time and any excuse is good to attack us.”

“Excuse me sir, but you're seriously mistaken,” I said, and both looked at me like hungry wolves.

Nothing that could be compared to Stephanov or his friends. “Mr. Repin had nothing to do with whatever might have
happened with you. One of his underlings, Morozov attacked him and helped his wife to nearly kill me in an attempt
to weaken him. They wanted to take over and used the Duke's wrath to their advantage. Mr. Repin never lied to the
Duke on this. Constantin always spoke about him in a mixture of awe, fear and respect. He has no reasons to fight
with him. He simply can't afford it. One slap from him and he lost half of his fortune.”

“Could you be mistaken, child?”

“I don't know. It will not be the first time he lied to me,” I admitted very slowly.

“Thank you for being so forthcoming with us, my child. It makes our decisions much easier.”

“Which decisions?”

“About your future. The Griffin has granted you a place beside him, as a part of his family. You should
be honoured.”

“I have to return to Russia in one year,” I said, becoming more and more agitated.

“Do you want to return?”

“Mr. Repin expects me to return,” I replied.

“Do you want to go back?” Mladic asked me and I knew that he was a man you couldn't lie to.

“No, I wanted to leave Russia. There's nothing for me in St. Petersburg, but on the other hand, I don't
want to cause more troubles between you and him and I will return as agreed. Repin will be furious if the Duke does
not fulfil his part of the deal. I only hope that this year apart will make him rethink his affections toward me.”

“You have no feelings for that man?”

“No, nothing at all but I can't have any negative feelings against him; he was always very kind to me
and I would be ungrateful if I were to deny it.”

“Guntram, Repin is our concern, not yours. You're just a young boy and an outsider. Go with my nephew
and stay with him,” Rasim Mladic ordered me.

Better obey and stay with Goran. At least he doesn't give me the creeps like all of them do!”

“Gustav, my friend, I'm not happy about this and I think it's a dangerous move from the Griffin, but I will not change my vote. The boy stays. Perhaps, he even makes me a favour too and allows me to finish that pending business with his wretched uncle.”

“Nothing would please me more than to see you finally crushing that snake of Roger. He ruined my niece's life.”

“This boy didn't have it easy either. He lost his father, his fortune, his health and his friends. His father saved us. The material he had hidden in Geneva could have destroyed all of us if it had befallen in the wrong hands.

The minimum we can do is to honour the pact and protect his child.”

“All right, but all this will be addressed in a closed doors meeting of the Council, nothing to discuss now.”

“Of course. We will only report that he's to be readmitted to the Order. If Fortingeray tries to go against us...”

“He will find Goran truly willing to help him find his way once more,” Mladic chuckled. “If this boy can get the snake out of its cave and tames the Duke, I will kiss him.”

“The Griffin has already started to speak about children, with one of those modern methods, but he's considering to settle down and that would be very good for all of us. A year ago it was unthinkable that he would mention the subject.”

“Guntram this is Heindrik Holgersen Wallenberg. He will take Antonov's place for the time being.”

Goran announced me, showing me a Viking standing in front of me. How can you be so tall? What do they feed them
there? Can you find a bed of your size? I could tell he wasn't happy with his new baby sitting job; we share the feeling
(and misery).

We drove to Zurich, to a nice hotel, The Eden. I was supposed to have lunch with Elisabetta von Lintorff,
Albert von Lintorff's mother and “the queen bee,” according to Holgersen, “be quiet and let her do the talking.” I
had to carry once more my portfolio for her and one of her girlfriends, Marie Sophie Olszytn, “a very rich widow and
art collector, also be nice, let her do the talking.”

“Do I have a say in all this?”

“No, be quiet.”

“Do you stay with me?”

“No way. I know it's Good Friday, but I prefer to penance differently.”

The ladies were already waiting for me at the restaurant and I felt very sick to see so many people
around. I had to take several deep breaths before entering, thanks to a strong push in the back from Heindrik and a

“don't be a sissy!” whispered in my ear.

Albert's mother looked exactly like a queen, very elegant and aristocratic but not arrogant. I believe she
was in her seventies but you couldn't give her more than sixty. She had dark hair, like her son and very blue eyes. The
other was a replica but in blonde with brown eyes and wearing several thousand Euros worth in jewels, but very
discreet all of them.

“Hello dear, I'm Elisabetta, Konrad's aunt and this is my very good friend Tita Olszytn. I understand
that you're Konrad's ward.” She said with a kind smile but with an x-ray eye.

“I'm pleased to meet you both.”

“Sit down, dear; Ostermann has spoken about you a lot. He tells me I should take a look at your
material before he charges me the full price.” The other one told me laughing.

At first it was awkward for me but I relaxed as they both were very kind and not aggressive at all. After
lunch we went to Elisabetta's suite and they looked at my drawings, asking me who was my manager.

“I believe that Mr. Robertson in London still has me among his clients.”

“I'll tell my secretary to contact him. I'm interested in several of your things. Those birds are delicious,”

Elisabetta said.

“Take them if you like them. I'll see if I can get some silk paper to wrap them.”

“You can't give them to me! Those are good enough as to sell!” She said shocked.

“I would be glad if you take them, please.”

“Guntram, my dear,” interfered Tita, “Ostermann already vouches for your work and that's already like
an investment for us. You should keep your work or send it to your manager. He will know what to do.”

“I'm not selling much at the moment.”

“Ostermann told us that you had one exhibition in London some time ago and you sold everything.

Angelika Volcker's son bought two of your pieces and he wants to have you at his gallery in Berlin,” Tita told me
shocked. Who's Volcker?

“I was not considering to make another one any time soon,” I whispered, feeling very sick.

“Well you should, if you don't want Rudolf Ostermann stealing your things and making it by himself.”

“I'm only painting a cat in the meantime. A Chinese cat,” I said sourly.

“Yes, I know, I bought the “Cats at the Praxeum.” Very funny. My daughter-in-law is in love of it and
she took it for her flat in New York,” Tita told me somewhat sounding shocked.

I was presented with a dilemma. A hideous thing like the Athenian-Chinese cats, a total waste of oils and
canvas (but very good for venting all the frustration, resentment and murdering rage I was feeling against Ostermann
for forcing me to paint the thing) was sold to a nice lady.

“Madam, Tita, please take those landscapes you liked so much. I esteem them much more than the cats. I
still have nightmares about them.”

“In that case, but they're incredibly funny.”

“Elisabetta, I will be honoured if you accept those birds, they're from around here and you can
appreciate them better than I.”

Finally they took the drawings and it's a good thing because if it were my decision they'd be in the
garbage.

I had tea with them and when I was wondering when I should disappear, because they were very happy
chatting about many things and asking me about my studies and my work in the Antiques Shop, Heindrik Holgersen
showed up and told me that we would drive home in two hours.

April 9th 2004

I want to kill Konrad. Nothing new. I want to kill Konrad, Goran, Michael the idiotic clown, Gustav zu
Löwenstein, Alrik Wallenberg, Rasim Mladic Pavicevic, Albert von Lintorff, Jean Louis St. Pérault and myself.

Fortingeray, Hülsroj and Van Thimen are furious with us and with reason. Konrad not only opposed
their more than logical reserves against this boy but he had to give them a slap in the face IN FRONT of the whole
brotherhood.

Everything went fine; people accepted our losses after Repin's mess because we could counteract them
with Gasrom and some other moves. The final number was not as brilliant as we wanted but you can't complain if you
get a twenty-three percent return in one year. But there, he had to screw it up. Michael Dähler, our newly appointed
secretary, spoke with his dodo voice: “As the last point in our agenda I would like to submit to the Council's voting
the candidacy of Guntram Philippe Alphonse de Lisle Guttenberg Sachsen, Vicomte de Marignac. His Highness the
Prince Gustav zu Löwenstein and the Baron Albert von Lintorff support his plea.”