The Snows of Montora (The Chronicles of Montora Book 3)

by Ward Wagher

  He looked over at the Listons. "You probably should forget I said anything."

  George shrugged. "Willard Krause has a reputation for being an operator. This is nothing new to me."

  "Yeah, but these guys are playing for keeps. They were talking about just taking Cambaert out and quietly having him shot, rather than dealing with the publicity of a trial."

  "That's the penalty for piracy anyway," Emily said. "In fact, I'm surprised you didn't just space them."

  "I gave it serious thought, Ems. But, the Woogies insisted on a trial."

  “What was their angle?”

  “I don't really know,” Frank replied. “Maybe just common decency.”

  "Did you stay for the trial?" Stephanie asked.

  Frank and grinned. "Are you ready for the punch line? Rogers Cambaert was able to slip his guard, and sought refuge in the Centauran embassy."

  "Wow!" Emily said. "That raises all kinds of interesting questions, doesn't it?"

  "Yes it does. I'm tempted to poke at some of my contacts in Naval Intelligence, to see how things washed out. Anyway, Krause was leaving to head out this way, so I hitched a ride with him."

  Emily stood up. "This is probably a good time to bring out the dessert."

  Stephanie and Pamela both jumped to their feet and began clearing the table.

  Gough leaned over to Frank. "We probably need to have a conversation soon about our friendly local protectors."

  "Are you having trouble with them too?" George asked. "I swear one of these days I'm going to push Fillbee into a turbine intake. The little twit likes to think of himself as a heavy, and all he does is make a nuisance of himself."

  "It's worse than that," Gough said. He looked over his shoulder to make sure the women were in the kitchen. "I understand he has forced a couple of the local girls, and Chavis won't let the police do anything about it."

  "You mean, as in rape?"

  Gough nodded.

  "You are keeping a close eye on the office girls, right?"

  "Oh yes. He has a reputation, so most of them are pretty careful anyway."

  "And you say they're raising the rates on us?"

  Gough nodded again. "Trying to double them. I've held him off until you got back."

  "I guess that will be the first order of business tomorrow, then," Frank said. “What's the matter, George?"

  Liston was staring into the distance, and then visibly shook himself. "I had an office girl disappear a couple years ago. She was a little bit unreliable, and I assumed she just found something else she wanted to do."

  "And now you're wondering if Fillbee had something to do with it," Frank said.

  "It's a short step from rape to murder."

  Emily stepped back in the room with Stephanie and Pamela. All of them were carrying plates with cherry cheesecake.

  "This is a sober looking room," Pamela said brightly.

  "We're just contemplating the amount of work we have to do tomorrow, my dear," George said.

  “Well, cheer up, Dearie. None of it has to be done tonight."

  "I like your attitude," Emily said. "It goes along with that saying that starts with the phrase all work and no play."

  The three men looked at each other. Frank raised his eyebrows momentarily, but said nothing.

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  Frank sat across the table from Benjamin Chavis in Rapunzel's restaurant. He looked at the crook's oily ringlets of hair and greasy skin and wondered why bad guys never looked normal. Frank slid an envelope across the table. Chavis tore it open and peeked inside.

  "Now, I told your man Brundage that the price has gone up. Did he not tell you about this?"

  "I just assumed that there was some misunderstanding," Frank said. "We had an agreement, and I have upheld my side of the bargain. If I am going to have to lower myself to buying off the local riffraff, I expect them to stay bought."

  "You're not being very polite, especially since I could make things very difficult for you."

  Fillbee came to the table and sat down Frank's coffee and Chavis's wine. "Have you gentlemen decided to order?"

  Frank looked up at Fillbee. "I hear you've been making a nuisance of yourself around my office, Fillbee."

  "Just trying to do my job, Mr. Nyman."

  Frank looked at Chavis. "Can you explain to me how Fillbee's job is to hang around my office and stare at the girls as they come and go?"

  Chavis shrugged. "The sidewalk is public property, Mr. Nyman. Fillbee has as much right to be there as you or I."

  Frank looked back up at the waiter. "I'll have the club sandwich. What are you having, Benjie?"

  Chavis looked up at Fillbee. "I will have a steak sandwich."

  "Thank you, gentlemen," Fillbee said as he scribbled on a notepad. He turned and slunk off.

  "I will make sure Fillbee stays away from you, Mr. Nyman. I know he has some odd habits, but he means well."

  "Just like you do, I guess," Frank said.

  Chavis held out his hands, palms up. "I know this isn't the kind of culture you are used to, or even like for that matter. But that's the way things are. You have to admit there isn't a lot of crime here. And I think you pay me and the Provost less than you would pay in taxes anywhere else."

  "And this gives you license to commit highway robbery?"

  "Please, Mr. Nyman, what is the difference between paying a fee to me to allow your operations to proceed versus paying the tax authorities on Earth? I daresay I am more honest than they are."

  "That still puts you pretty low on the totem pole, Benjie. Now, what's the deal over the increase?"

  Chavis folded his hands and cleared his throat. "We have reached the conclusion that your organization is larger and wealthier than you told us. Given the circumstances, it seems to me there was some disingenuousness on your part. I have heard you are negotiating to buy an office building."

  "So, what if I am? I explained to everyone concerned that I was moving my operations group to Gustav from Earth. Nothing has changed."

  “You own three starships. That puts your net worth well over one-hundred million Centaurans. That's exclusive territory, Mr. Nyman. You own a mansion on Wilton Street with a full time staff. Around here that makes you rich.”

  Frank took a sip of coffee to slow down the conversation. “For the record, Benjie, you haven't considered my debts. I can assure you the bank owns a whole lot more of my ships than I do. And that mansion was offered to me at give-away pricing. And the so-called house staff is actually running my business here.”

  “I need to up the vig, Mr. Nyman. I have expenses too. Regardless of what you may think of me, I do keep the peace. That costs money. Why do you think I have people like Fillbee on my payroll? You're right. He is loopy. You will notice he works here as a waiter to make ends meet, too.”

  “My problem, Benjie,” Frank said, “is that we agreed to a price when I first came here. I wasn't happy about it, but I understood. The minute I step out of the picture, you start trying to shake down my people. I expect to travel a lot to stay on top of my business, and I can't have this. Do you understand me?”

  “But you misrepresented yourself, Mr. Nyman. You misrepresented the size of your business.”

  “I didn't represent anything! You came to me with your hand out, and I decided it was easier just to pay. You're the man talking about an arrangement. Okay, we had an arrangement. Now you're screwing around with me. Listen, Buster, I'm not so deeply invested in this place that I couldn't just pull up roots and relocate again. The business environment is better in Caledon anyway. What would the Provost say to you if I did something like that?”

  Chavis turned pale. “You cannot do that. Admiral Krause told you to locate here!”

  Fillbee arrived with the food and looked carefully at Chavis. “Here you go, gentlemen. Will there be anything else?”

  Chavis held up a hand. “Leave us for now, Fillbee.”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  Frank took a bite of the sandwic
h, which was really very good. He took the pause to think about what Chavis just told him. Chavis, for his part, looked very concerned.

  “You wouldn't really leave Gustav, would you?” he asked.

  Frank cocked his head as he looked at the mobster. “I would like very much to know where you heard that, Benjie.”

  “It was just something I heard.”

  “Right. Would I leave? Honestly? I don't really want to. I kind of like this place, other than the weird sea life. But, no, Admiral Krause did not order me here. I am a reserve Captain, but his orders cover only my Naval duties.”

  “But he got you your deal on those two ships.”

  Frank stared at Chavis for several heartbeats. He then wiped his mouth with the napkin and threw it on the table.

  “Thanks for lunch, Benjie,” he said as he got up.

  “But wait, you're supposed to buy.”

  Frank had turned his back and was walking out of the restaurant. As he headed along the boardwalk back to his office, Charlie the Dimaton broke the surface of the water. The marine animal swam alongside the boardwalk as Frank stomped along. Charlie kept pace with him. Frank looked over, and jumped when he saw Charlie. He continued walking as clearly with a purpose.

  He stepped in the front door of the company offices and immediately walked upstairs to his office. He punched the button on his com.

  “Stephanie, see if Admiral Krause has left orbit yet. I would like to speak with him.”

  Frank spent a few minutes playing with the stylus on his desk. Then Krause's face appeared on the terminal.

  “Frank.”

  “Admiral. One of the locals has told me a couple of disturbing things.”

  “You're going to have to make it quick, Frank. I'm getting ready to pull out of orbit.”

  “According to one of the local low-lifes, I am here at your direct orders. Also, he appeared to know the details of the starship transaction.”

  “And why would you be calling me, Frank?”

  Frank took a deep breath and clenched his fists. “Because they would not have gotten that information here. Somebody's talking on your side.”

  “Come on, Frank,” the admiral said. “People talk in the business world all the time. I'm surprised you can't deal with it.”

  “Listen, Admiral. You know the weird governance in this place. The protection rackets decided I'm a lot more plump than they originally assumed, so they're raising the vig.”

  “I still don't know why you are bothering me with this. You simply have to deal with it.”

  “Oh, I can deal with it, Admiral, and I will.”

  “And you are not going to rock the boat,” Krause said. “I don't need to be getting urgent messages from the Provost asking me to come in and settle things. I don't have time for that nonsense. Your job is to keep your head down and run your business. Now, is there anything else?”

  “I don't know why I even waste my time trying to talk to somebody with a God Complex.”

  “I'll take that as a no. See you around, Frank.” And the screen went blank.

  Frank cursed at the screen for a full minute, before the com signaled again. He took a deep breath and hit the accept button.

  “Stephanie, Sir. Mr. Rooste at Rapunzel's called and wants to know who is going to pay for your lunch.”

  “If you would, please, take some cash from the till and trot over there. Give him my profound apologies for the misunderstanding.”

  “Yes, Sir. And Mr. Chavis is here in the office.”

  Frank bit a knuckle as he shook his head.

  “Are you still there, Sir?” she asked.

  “Yes. Is Smith or Jones about?”

  “Yes, Sir. Sergeant Jones is here.”

  “Ask him to escort Mr. Chavis to my office, please.”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  Frank listened to the stairs creaking as Chavis came up, followed by Jones.

  “Really, Mr. Nyman, I can find my own way to your office.”

  “Yeah? Well, your memory seems kind of weak lately. I thought you might need some help.”

  “I do not believe you are taking me seriously,” Chavis said.

  “You want to find out just how seriously I'm taking this, you little creep, keep pushing.”

  Frank pushed himself out of his chair and stepped quickly around the desk. He moved over to where Chavis stood, and got squarely in his face.

  “I'm getting tired of being shaken down by two-centime hoods. I'm tired of everybody lying to me. And I'm completely out of patience with this nonsense.”

  “You might want to rethink your position, Mr. Nyman. I can make things very uncomfortable for you and your people.”

  “Can you?” Frank asked. “You know what I'm curious about right now? I wonder if Jones can throw you out of the upstairs window here hard enough so that you'll clear the boardwalk and go into the water. It would be an interesting experiment.”

  He nodded to Jones, who grabbed Chavis by his collar and left arm.

  “Wait! Wait.” Chavis cried out.

  Frank held up a hand, and Jones stopped.

  “Well?”

  “Maybe we can negotiate this,” Chavis said.

  “We certainly can,” Frank said. “Next month you will bring a detailed financial statement of your operations to our luncheon. I will review it and give you advice on your business. At the end of my first year, we will sit down and determine what next year's payments will be.”

  “That's not what I mean, and you know it,” Chavis said.

  “But it is what I mean,” Frank said. He nodded to Jones, who began dragging Chavis across the floor.

  “Okay, okay,” Chavis said quickly. “You win.”

  “Turn him loose, Jones,” Frank said.

  Chavis shook himself away from Jones.

  “Now, get out of here,” Frank said.

  Without another word, Chavis headed for the stairs with Jones behind him. Frank shook his head and returned to his office. I now understand the phrase, 'he needed killing.' Benjie may find himself with a health problem.

  Back in the office, Frank pulled up the monthly financial statement for Nyman Trans-Space and tried to study it. Two minutes later Jones eased back into the office.

  “Will there be anything else, Sir?”

  Frank looked up at the sergeant. “No. Just stay awake. There's no telling what that idiot might try. In fact, make sure to let Smith and Brundage know what's going on. Things might get interesting.”

  “Will do, Sir.”

  “Thanks, Jones. And one other thing?”

  “Yes Sir?”

  “Do you think you could have gotten him clear of the boardwalk and into the water?”

  Jones grinned. “Would've been interestin' t'try, Sir.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

  The next morning was typical for that of New Stockholm. Sarah's Star, which everyone on the planet called the sun, shone brightly from a cloudless sky. The shade of blue in the sky was just slightly darker than that of Earth, and the climate reminded visitors of Hawaii. In many ways the planet was a paradise - without predators or significant unpleasantnesses.

  Frank Nyman walked along the boardwalk at the water’s edge, staying as far away from the water as possible. Charlie the dimaton swam alongside. His strange V-shaped fin periodically broke the surface of the water.

  "Get too close to me, Charlie," Frank muttered, "and you're going to end up on someone's dinner table."

  He had just finished speaking, and the huge aquatic animal thrust its head out of the water and snapped its jaw together several times. The eye on one side of its massive head stared directly at Frank.

  "Okay, forget I said anything."

  Charlie slowly subsided into the water. Frank stared at him, then shivered. He quickly walked up the steps into the Gustav City Hall.

  "May I help you, sir?"

  Frank looked across the desk to perhaps the smallest woman he had ever seen. "Yes, I would like to have a few moments of th
e Mayor's time, if he is available, please."

  "Who may I tell him is calling?"

  "Frank Nyman of Nyman Trans-Space."

  "Please have a seat. I will go check to see if he is accepting visitors today."

  She slid off the chair and dropped to the floor, then walked quickly from the room.

  I would be surprised if she were half my height, Frank said to himself. Rather than sitting down, he wandered about the room studying the art work on the walls, and the knickknacks decorating the shelves.

  "Mr. Nyman, how good of you to drop by."

  Frank turned around to see a stocky, baldheaded man with a fringe of white hair around his pate walking into the room. He walked over, holding out his hand.

  "I am Frank Nyman."

  "DeWayne Osterman, the Mayor of Gustav."

  "I hope I am not interrupting something," Frank said.

  "Oh, no, no, no. It always seems to be quiet here. Just me and Lucretia." He nodded to the tiny brunette who was in the process of climbing back into her chair. "I'm delighted you stopped by for a visit. I have heard about you."

  "I seem to be developing some notoriety around here," Frank said.

  The Mayor put his arm on Frank's back, and gestured with his other. Frank was then propelled into the Mayor's office. The office closely resembled the rest of the building. The seaside village motif was carried over in pictures of lighthouses and fishing villages, decorating the room.

  "Notoriety in some quarters, only," the mayor said. "The majority of us are delighted to have a businessman investing in the community."

  Osterman waived Frank to a chair, then walked behind his desk, and sat down.

  "Which brings me to the point of the visit," Frank said. "Is it normal for businesses to be on the receiving end of shakedowns by a certain class of local citizens?"

  "Ha!" The single bark of laughter popped in the room. "Unfortunately yes. That certain class has largely taken over the local governance, leaving me and the police as figureheads."

  "You don't seem to be very upset about that," Frank commented.

  The Mayor crossed his arms over his chest and nodded. "It is more along the lines of I have never been able to do anything about it. And, to tell the truth that certain class does keep things quiet."