HI THERE! Well, thanks to the amazing recuperative powers of the human body and a great, big outpouring of good wishes from you lovely readers, I'm starting to feel like a real person. I wonder if this is what Pinocchio felt like when the good fairy made him a real boy. I guess it would have been the same had the good fairy made him a portly middle aged man instead of a boy. Talk about a wish gone sideways!! What a kick in the dick that would have been. Somehow I don't think that movie would have been a classic like the original.
Anyway, here's a chapter. HOPE YOU LIKE IT!!
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Crown Vic to a Parallel World: Stolen Love The third and final installment of the ongoing adventures of Church Philips
47 Loose Ends
Our plane landed on the roof of The HALL and was lowered into the building on the landing platform. Shawn and I left the pilots and HALL attendants to look after the plane and went across the corridor to keep our appointment with Ars. We'd arrived right at the appointed time.
I looked around Ars' office, the way I always did, with a sense that it was both impressive and the perfect front for the man I knew as the scheming psychopath posing as a harmless bureaucrat. The office was almost deliberately the same as it had been when I first set eyes on it eighteen years before. It looked just like a CEO's office from the late nineteen fifties, as it was modeled to look.
The small man behind the vast and cluttered desk was also the same. He dressed, as he always did, in his signature long cut jacket, pullover shirt, and long slacks with wedge heels. His hair stuck straight up like he'd spent all morning pulling on it. His speech came in staccato bursts, like fire from a tentative machine gunner.
Ars greeted us warmly, welcomed us graciously, and hugged Shawn as lovingly as one would expect. "I never had any doubt, young man, never a doubt in my mind." Ars gushed without bothering to identify that which he didn't doubt. "You are a strong and tenacious young man and your husband here," Ars acknowledged me with a tilt of his head and without releasing Shawn, "I knew there was no limit to what he was willing to do in order to get you back. So happy to see you, happy to see you both, yes indeed."
Ars broke the embrace with his nephew and moved toward his desk while he gestured broadly for us to take our seats. We sat as we were told, and Ars climbed into his noisy, creaking swivel chair. "Well, well, well, well, well, indeed...yes, what, may I ask, brings you here today? Is it safe to assume you have come to discuss the disposition of your father, young man...young men? I am certain you both have an opinion. I have one of my own, but in deference to your peace of mind and the former affections of my sister, I will keep that entirely to myself, though I presume you could guess it with a single attempt."
I gritted my teeth in anger at the very mention of Shawn's father. "Have you spoken to him?" I asked Ars through my teeth.
Ars' face told me that he had. The corners of his mouth drew down in an angry frown. "Yes," he admitted, "his story is that he was taken-in by Domus. Verpa claims that Domus tricked him, if you could believe such a thing from a supposedly professional man. He claims that Domus, a known racketeer, tricked him into investing greater and greater sums into his nefarious enterprises. He further claims that Domus bamboozled him so thoroughly that Verpa went on until his resources were exhausted, and he had dipped well into his client's funds to hide his lack of sound judgement, before he realized what he had done.
"At that point, with ruin staring him in the face, he claims Domus and he, Verpa that is, had what he calls a `brainstorming session.' It was during this session that Verpa suggested the idea of having his son kidnapped and ransomed for the funds they needed to cover their respective losses. He claims he made this suggestion as an outlandish joke, but that Domus took his idea as a true suggestion and executed it without Verpa's prior knowledge."
"Uh huh." I said to express my disbelief.
"As you say, young man, as you say." Ars agreed with my sarcasm. "Everything Verpa said was highly colored, HIGHLY colored by his own self-interest now that he has been caught with his hand in the proverbial cookie jar. Domus, career criminal that he is, has had the good taste to remain consistent and say nothing. I do think, if I was asked for my opinion which I have not been, but I infer that you would like to hear it, for it was you, after all young man, who asked me if I had spoken to my ex-brother-in-law. I presume in that instance that you would like to hear my thoughts on the matter."
Ars inclined his head in the barest start of a nod and waited. I assumed he was waiting for me to confirm what he'd been rattling on about. I gave him the `go ahead' that he seemed to require, and he rattled right on.
"Yes, well, I must say that it seems to me that a man desperate enough to reach out to the husband of his estranged son, was desperate enough to reach out in every direction. Indeed, he reached out in any direction where he could potentially grasp a solution to his problem. I suspect the man has some genuine remorse for letting things get to the point that they reached. However, that does not diminish the fact that the entire episode was born as the poisonous fruit of the rotten tree that is his own hubris."
Ars' chatter and meandering speech had lost me completely. I'd been following him, more or less, until he used the word `hubris.' I knew what it meant but could count on zero fingers the number of times I'd heard it used in casual conversation. I stopped Ars with a raised hand and a cry for understanding. Ars paused, stared at me for a beat, and resumed his speech like he hadn't stopped for anything but a breath.
"I think Domus pushed things much farther than Verpa ever intended. If it had been up to him, Verpa that is, the first half-billion demand, once paid, would have resulted in Shawn's prompt return. In his mind, Verpa's, that likely would have been the end of the episode. At least, it seems, that is what Verpa assumed.
"The idea that Shawn would allow himself to be kidnapped and you, Church, would allow yourself to be bilked for such a sum of money, is ridiculous. Further, that you would then do nothing in response as long as Shawn was returned unharmed, it staggers the imagination in the arrogance of the presumption. For Verpa to believe that, he must be either completely deluded, or thoroughly deranged."
Ars paused and gripped the arms of his chair with his neat hands. He released the desk, steepled his fingers again, and directed his gaze to the ceiling. "The trouble occurred when Domus took complete control of the situation and wanted more. It seems that men like him always do. Once he took control, Verpa could only watch. I am certain that is why Domus had his people hold Verpa hostage in his home.
"When I think of what may have happened if not for the uncharacteristic bravery of my nephew Primis," Ars shook his head rapidly back and forth like he was trying to clear the distasteful thought with a physical action, "but none of that seems to be the point, does it? What have you decided? I assume you have come to a decision. After all, if you have not, then for what purpose could you possibly be here?"
I was tempted to start talking about the discussions Shawn and I had surrounding Shawn's father, but Ars' mention of Primis reminded me of something. I was still curious about Ars' reaction, or lack of reaction to Primis the night he'd appeared out of the dark. I wondered why Ars didn't say one word to his nephew that night.
I'd meant to ask Shawn about it, but the topic hadn't come up in all the talking we'd done over our week of vacation. I decided to ask Ars. I figured the worst he could do was refuse to answer. I asked, and Ars lowered his eyes from the ceiling to meet mine.
"Why do you wish to know, young man?" Ars asked in response to my question. Shawn felt apprehensive and curious as well, and I wondered at his curiosity. I assumed, from the way he felt, that Shawn didn't know the answer to the question I'd directed at Ars. I wondered why that was.
I admitted that my question was just to satisfy my curiosity. "You two, you treated each other like strangers. It surprised me is all." I explained.
"Yes, well...we are...Primis and me...strangers that is. Verpa and I are enemies. We have always been enemies because I knew what he was from the moment I met him. Once he married my sister, he kept me well away from his family. It is very likely, likely indeed that Primis did not even recognize me as his uncle when we met at your home. In point of fact, I did not even know Shawn, nor he me, when my sister contacted me, contacted me right out of the clear blue sky, to ask me to take the boy in, to get him away from his father's cruelty.
"I would like to know my nephew, my other nephew that is, but that time and place was not the right one, or the other. It was not the right time, nor the right place, you understand, for a reunion, though I suppose that term, reunion,' would indicate former knowledge. Not the right term...no. Introduction,' perhaps is the word I am seeking. It was not the right time for that introduction. Nor the right place."
"I see."
"Yes," Ars acknowledged my understanding and moved back to the topic we'd met to discuss, "well, what about it? What about the purpose of your visit? Verpa, I mean. For after all, he is the reason you are here. I presume that is the case as I indicated. I believe I indicated that. Indicated that I thought that. That I thought that was why you were here. Verpa I mean. That is why you are here, to discuss his fate, I presume. I assume that I presume correctly."
Ars finished speaking, and I thought that my mouth was hanging open but wasn't certain. I had to double check by feeling my face with my right hand. It was open and I was breathing through it. That was a common physical manifestation, for me anyway, that went along with listening to Ars speak for any length of time. I shoved my jaw shut with my hand and said that Shawn and I had reached a decision.
Ars looked at each of his neat hands, one at a time, like he was inspecting his manicure and found it vaguely disappointing. He placed his hands on the edge of his desk to wait for one of us to speak. I shifted my eyes to Shawn to see if he wanted to do the explaining, or if I was to do it. The pensive look on my husband's face, and the reluctance I felt from him, told me the dubious honor was mine.
I took a breath and plunged ahead. I started off with a recap of the circumstances around the decision we'd had to make. "Shawn and I have read the report you forwarded on the miserable state of Verpa's business dealings and have talked it over with Lenis." I said to remind Ars that he had sent the results of his preliminary investigation to us as something to consider as we thought about what to do with Shawn's father.
Ars blinked at me but didn't comment on my statement, so I didn't stop for details. Instead, I gave a quick summary that probably wasn't necessary but that led directly into the plan we'd come up with. "Most of Verpa's clients in his wealth management firm were legitimate, well-meaning people. Many of them were relatively new to being wealthy, and they hoped only for a modest return on their investments. I don't want to see those people hurt.
"If things are left the way they are, once Verpa's accounts are reconciled, all his machinations will be exposed, and those people will lose everything. I want to avoid that. I also don't want my father-in-law to spend his life in prison. I really don't care about him or the scandal or anything like that, but I want this episode behind me." I reached for Shawn's hand over the small table between our seats. He met me half-way with his own. "I want this episode behind both of us. I don't want to testify in court and all that, just to see Verpa punished. The reality is, it wouldn't teach him anything."
Ars muttered something into the clutter on his desk to the effect of, "I doubt anything would."
"Agreed." I said and received a shallow nod from Ars in return. "So, here's what we've worked out with Lenis, and what we'd like to propose to you. We will purchase Verpa's business and all its assets for their face value. The purchase price will be paid to the company, not to its owner. That will prop up all the legitimate investors and the company can go back to doing business on sound financial footing.
"We will install a custodian to run the company under Lenis' watch for a year. If that custodian does well, that person will be given the option to take over and run the firm on our behalf. Their compensation will be whatever profit they can make from the business, minus the dividends to the investors, and a modest percentage paid to us toward the purchase price of the firm. When we have recouped our money, without interest, ownership of the firm will go to the custodian. As for the who...I'd like to offer it to Shawn's brother Primis."
Ars leaned back in his chair. The mechanism squeaked at us as he did it. He steepled his fingers in front of himself as he raised his eyes to the light panel ceiling. "Indeed." He paused for a long beat. "What, may I ask, do you plan to do with Verpa?"
I had my answer ready for that. "I plan to prevent him from ever causing any harm to anyone ever again. I plan to purchase his life from him, with conditions of course. I will clear up all his personal debts and pay off all his property as long as he transfers ownership of everything into my name." I paused to emphasize a point. "When I say `my name' I mean me, not me and Shawn or me and Lenis, just me, myself, and I. I will be the sole person in charge."
With that assertion made, I went on to make my point. "Once Verpa does that, he will be entitled to a payment of one-hundred-thousand credits a year, provided he engages in no business, and makes no attempt to contact any member of my extended family. Primis may visit with his father, if he wishes, but I'm going to advise against it. I am also going to require an audio and video recording of any visits Primis does make, to ensure his father offers him no advice on any business dealings.
"As long as Verpa plays along, he gets to live his life and can enjoy the cash. The second he steps out of line, he gets evicted without a penny. That's the deal I have for him. He can take it or leave it. If he leaves it, we will offer no help of any kind and his business will disappear, he will be personally ruined, and I will testify against him in open court with malice in my heart."
Ars rocked his chair down to appraise both of us over his steepled fingers. He directed his attention to Shawn. "Nephew, do you concur with this plan of your husband's? Do you feel it is just? Will you be able to reconcile it with your forgiving nature?"
Shawn's free hand drifted to his knee and squeezed it until the knuckles whitened with tension. The hand that held mine also tensed and gripped my paw hard enough to ache. Shawn was not a good disciplinarian. He had immense discipline for himself, but he struggled to hold others accountable. I knew his decision had already been made and that he would stick to it. He and I and his mother had been over the plan before. We'd talked it through down to the last detail.
Shawn would go along with the plan because it was the kindest, most liberal form of punishment that any of us could come up with. It ensured that Verpa would be as harmless as a mosquito trapped in amber for the rest of his days. "It's for the best." Shawn agreed after some unnecessary soul searching. "He has to be stopped and this stops him."
"Very well." Ars nodded slowly and deeply with his own agreement. "It is not the way that I would have handled the situation, but it does stop him as you said. Shall I present your plan to him?"
"I would appreciate it if you would." I answered Ars' question. I didn't want to see Verpa or talk to him. I worried that if I ever did, I would do all the things to him that I'd ever imagined myself doing since I first met the man, including the more brutal images I'd created in my mind since I found out he was behind Shawn's kidnapping. It was better for both of us if Ars handled things. "Lenis is finalizing the details and will forward the documents to you for Verpa to sign. We all appreciate your help."
"It is gladly given, young man, gladly given indeed. You have been instrumental, yet again, in extracting a painful thorn from my side and from the sides of all of my family. If I had no reason to be grateful to you before, I certainly would have one now. I thank you for using the Summas name sir, and for enriching that name by your use of it."
I smiled at Ars' kind words, even though I suspected they were mostly horseshit. It was nice of him to praise me, even if he didn't mean it. "Nice of you to say, Ars. Thank you."
"Well, that is one item settled, certainly, as I am certain that Verpa will see the way the wind is blowing, to use a very old phrase. The man is nothing if not pragmatic and will certainly see what is best for his own best interests. That said...that said..." Ars trailed off like he had a tendency to do between topics. He quickly found the thread of what he'd wanted to say and went on, "what about the servant, Ancillarum? What of him? Difficult, yes difficult indeed to charge him and put him on trial for a crime without also charging Verpa. Difficult and not entirely fair. What shall we do with young Ancillarum?"
I ground my teeth at the sound of the self-serving servant's name. Shawn and I had talked about him but had been unable to come to an agreement. I wanted him punished as severely as possible, but Shawn wanted him released. Shawn said the servant had done no real harm, as the information he gave to the mystery woman was general in nature and likely didn't help Domus plan Shawn's kidnapping. I felt that the little fuck had betrayed us, even if all he did was report what I ate for lunch.
We happily paid our servants two or three times what they could make in any other wealthy household because of the inconvenience of where we lived. We also provided free transportation between the estate and town and offered other perks. We didn't force anyone to work there. The job was `at will' on the part of both parties. This Ancillarum had taken advantage of the trust we placed in him as a well-paid employee of the household, and he'd done it for a relative pittance. I was probably more pissed at him for being stupid than anything else. That said, he had exposed a weak spot in our safety and for that I owed him a convoluted debt of gratitude.
I gnashed my teeth over the servant problem and barked out a request for help. "Suggestions, Ars?" "Reinstate the man." Ars said with an absent wave of his hand.
Ars' flippant response launched my temper through the roof. "ARE YOU OUT OF YOUR GODDAMNED MIND?" I roared and shoved out of my seat like I was squaring off to do physical battle with Ars.
Ars waved down my outburst even more flippantly than he'd waved his suggestion around. "You will gain this man as an ally, young man, a staunch supporter. You will prove yourself a magnanimous master, forgiving and benign. This Ancillarum, if he is any kind of man at all, will realize the opportunity you are providing for him to make good, and he will do just that. He will make good. I would say the last two weeks he has spent in my custody will forever be engrained on his memory. He will not wish to repeat the missteps that brought him to that point."
I listened to Ars while I stood on my feet with my fists clenched at my sides. I was preparing another volley of anger when I noticed Shawn's emotions had shifted from worry to something like contentment. That feeling was how he felt when he agreed with someone. A single glance in Shawn's direction told me that I was fucked.
Shawn's Uncle Ars, a man my husband loved and respected, had decreed we reinstate the servant and Shawn obviously thought that was a grand idea. I lowered myself, defeated, into my chair and gave my reluctant approval for Ars' plan. "Yeah...sure...fuck it." I mocked. "Betray the one person I care about the most, get a two-week vacation and a free trip to the capital with no time lost."
Ars admonished me. He told me in order for his idea to work, I had to actually act like a magnanimous boss and not a miserable grouch. That's not what he said, but he used words to that effect. I promised not to be a complete prick but reserved the right to be an occasional prick. With the Ancillarum matter settled, I asked about the rest of the players in the farce we'd lived through. "I will deal with them in my own way." Ars used as a rather cryptic response to my query.
I considered for just a second before I decided that whatever fate Ars had planned for the main villain and the supporting characters was just fine with me. I didn't think Mendax Domus would be missed by anyone. I further assumed that those working for him knew what they were getting into when they accepted employment from a gangster. I had a passing curiosity about the true identity of Pytho Nissam and her taciturn partner but quickly dismissed it.
I realized that who these people were really didn't matter to my life or to Shawn's. I was certain that Ars would see they got exactly what was coming to them. "Works for me." I got to my feet to shake Ars' hand.
"But..." Shawn tried to object.
I shushed him. "Love, I'm sure your uncle has lots of work to do." I offered my hand to Shawn and pulled him from his chair. "And we have a long flight ahead of us if we want to get home tonight."
Shawn dug his heels in and refused to be led away. "NO," he insisted, "don't try that with me. I am an adult, and I was the victim of these people, not anyone else. I want to know what you," he pointed at his uncle, "plan to do with them."
Ars looked up from his chair, his eyes half-closed in a lazy, indifferent expression. "Nephew, my dear Shawn, an adult you may be, but a man of the world you are not. You, my dear boy, are an idealist. Idealists are wonderful things. The world needs idealists. It needs them in every capacity except its leadership. In leadership, one learns to be pragmatic, one must be a realist. I am both of those things, as is your dear husband. I have been indulgent with you over the disposition of your father and over the fate of this meaningless servant. What I will not indulge, are your ideal-driven demands for knowledge that you do not want and forbearance that I will not grant."
"You're going to murder those people, aren't you?" Shawn demanded, his tone and his emotions full of horror. "I won't let you do that...not over me. You can't!"
Ars' expression grew even lazier than it had been before. He seemed to sink into his swivel chair and grow tired, like the effort of enduring Shawn's conversation was taxing his ability to remain conscious. "Shawn." Ars said in a hollow, low voice that raised goosebumps all over my body. I feared that Ars was growing dangerous. I hoped Shawn wouldn't continue to press him. I walked around the back of the guest chairs to come around the far side of Shawn so I could forcibly corral him toward the door if necessary. Ars headed me off with his voice.
"Nephew, listen carefully, as I am going to put the recent events in perspective for you. Sometime in the early morning hours of Tuesday, May 19th, you were incapacitated with a mild energy weapon, transported via aircraft to a resort town, locked in a disused office building, and left with ready access to food and water for four days. You were bored, perhaps scared, definitely lonely, but never threatened, never menaced, and never hurt. As that is the extent of the damage you suffered, you do not believe the people who subjected you to that experience should be dealt with too severely. Does that sound accurate?"
"Yes." Shawn agreed and attempted to launch himself into a statement of fairness.
Ars talked over him. "I submit to you, dear nephew, that you were not the only victim of this crime. I submit that you were not even the most severely injured of all the injured parties. I submit that the anguish your husband suffered over your unknown fate was far greater than any boredom you may have suffered. I submit that the small army which mobilized on your behalf, and the time they spent away from their families and spouses and children, deserves recompence. Deserves it just as much, if not more, than the minor inconvenience you experienced by not being able to shower for a few days."
Ars stood from his swivel chair and glared at Shawn with a face full of angry, high color. "I submit to you, dear nephew, that I was a victim of these people to a far greater extent than you were. I submit that the state which I serve was also a victim of these people. The state was a victim because for that same period, when you were forced to amuse yourself with whatever diversions a disused office building contains, I neglected my duties to this nation most shamefully. I neglected them while I toiled on your behalf.
"I toiled, dear nephew, during the day and during the night because I could not shut my eyes in sleep with the knowledge that you were out there somewhere, maybe scared, or in pain, or DEAD!" Ars slapped a small bare spot on his desk with an angry hand to emphasize the last word in his tirade. Shawn flinched at the sound.
Ars pointed his right index finger at the center of his own chest and trembled with what I assumed was towering rage while he addressed the last of his thoughts to Shawn. "I will visit upon these people EXACTLY what they deserve for the great weight of their crimes. Furthermore, I will accept upon my soul, if such a thing truly exists, whatever black stain those actions leave, for that is my prerogative. YOU my innocent young nephew will not presume to judge ME!" Ars finished his speech with another slap to the desktop and stood seething.
I looked at Shawn to see how he was going to react. His emotions were spiraling so fast I couldn't figure out how he felt about anything. His mouth worked several times as he tried to speak but no sound came. He cleared his throat, swallowed hard, and was able to force out a scared, whispered, "I'm sorry."
Ars smiled, flung his arms wide, and tripped around the big desk to embrace his nephew. He hugged Shawn, patted his back, and chattered like nothing untoward had happened. "All is forgiven, dear boy, indeed all is forgiven. Think nothing of it, nothing at all. Brave of you to stand up to me, very brave indeed. I am proud of you, nephew. Now, I am very busy, as your handsome husband indicated, very busy indeed. Run along, both of you, run right along and let me do my work."
The small man chattered and herded us to the door and through it into the corridor. He chattered the door shut with a wave and left us alone.
In the corridor, with the office door shut behind us, Shawn waivered, like he was trying to get his breath after a sprint. I put my hand on his shoulder and felt that he was shivering. "Shawn?" I said as a question and left the rest of my worry unspoken.
"He's...he's a monster...isn't he?" Shawn asked. "I mean...I suppose I knew that he was, but I never saw it, not up close like that."
As I'd reasoned it all out during my previous dealings with Ars Summas, it took me barely a second to distill what Ars was, and what he was not. He was not a monster. He was merely a ruthless man for whom the ends justified the means. I tried to soften the fresh horror that Shawn seemed to have gained for his uncle. I tried to put things in perspective for him.
"No, my love, your uncle is not a monster. I don't think he is, anyway. He is a servant to the state, and he has vowed to do whatever is necessary to protect the citizens that live in the country that he seems to love. Along with that promise, he also wants to protect his nephew, who he loves."
"At any cost?" Shawn asked, displaying his innocence again.
"Yes, my love, at any cost. You know, instead of judging your uncle for his actions, maybe we should pity him that they're necessary in the first place."
Shawn shook his head, either in refusal to agree with me or in refusal to accept the facts, maybe both. "I don't know whether to weep for him, or for those who cross his path."
"Maybe both." I suggested as gently as I could. "Come on...it's over. It's over and done with. It's time for us to go home. We have family and friends to thank and plans to make and," I reminded myself of the subject of the discussion we'd had on the flight to the capital, "and kids to have."
I tried to lead Shawn down the corridor to the elevator, but he wouldn't allow himself to be led. He hugged me, and I hugged him back. "I love you." He whispered to me as we embraced. "I didn't mean to act like...I know what you went through must have been terrible. I'm sorry for acting like it wasn't."
"There's nothing to forgive, love. Don't give it a thought. It's over and done and it's time to go home. It's time to go where we belong and to leave all this badness behind us."
Shawn gripped me tightly, then released me and stepped back. "You're right, let's go home...where we belong."