Mad Powers (Tapped In)

by Mark Wayne McGinnis

  “I’m aware of that. If it’s there, I’ll find it. Oh, something else …”

  “What’s that?” Baltimore asked.

  “I won a few bucks at the racetrack—I’ll want those transferred into my own account. That doable?”

  “Shouldn’t be a problem. Let’s take care of that when we get back to the States. Anything else?”

  I thought about the scattered, worrisome images I’d seen in Leon’s thoughts. How would I explain them to Baltimore without exposing my capabilities? “Just that Goertz is into something … I don’t know … dark, I’d guess.”

  “Let’s talk later. You may see me around.”

  Baltimore clicked off. I wasn’t sure what he meant by that.

  I returned to the villa’s manicured backyard of sprawling lawns, hedges, and even topiaries, pruned into little wildlife shapes. A crew of three had arrived. One man was pushing an ancient-looking lawn mower. I turned and surveyed the property. They’d be here for hours, probably the rest of the day. My eyes drifted up to the transformer affixed to the top right-hand corner of the roofline. Crap.

  I came in through the sliding back door. Pippa was in the kitchen with Ingrid. I’d eaten Pippa’s cooking before, albeit well over a year ago. She was a dismal cook. Could never make the simplest of recipes into anything edible.

  She looked up; there was a patch of flour on her nose and although she’d put on an apron, she was pretty much covered with the stuff. Ingrid, at her side, was flour-free. Eggs, milk, bowls and utensils covered the thick woodblock island.

  “What do we have here?” I asked.

  “Homemade pancakes. Hope you’re hungry,” Pippa said, ladling some batter into a hot pan atop the stove.

  “Smells good. Need any help?”

  “No, just sit back and relax; I have a plate ready for you.” Pippa, an oven mitt on her right hand, opened the oven and retrieved a plate stacked high with pancakes. They were dark brown … almost black. “Oh, fudge. Looks like some of these got a little crispy.” She flopped the top two cakes into the trash and set the plate down on the kitchen table. She scurried away, avoiding eye contact with me. I looked to Ingrid, who was standing at the sink. She made a choking expression, with her tongue out.

  Pippa turned in time to see me chuckle. She looked at Ingrid. “Did you just make a face?”

  “No,” Ingrid replied.

  “I saw you. You made a face,” Pippa said.

  Ingrid didn’t reply.

  I interjected: “I talked to Baltimore … brought him up to speed.” I buttered my pancakes.

  Pippa brought over a bottle of syrup and slapped it down on the table in front of me.

  “Thanks!” I said.

  I smothered the cakes with syrup and cut into the stack. The top pancake cracked and broke into several small chunks. Pippa turned when she heard the sound, first looking at the pancake and then at me to ensure I wasn’t laughing. She watched me take a bite. I raised my eyebrows and made an encouraging face. “This is good. I mean it, really good.”

  Not buying my act, Pippa shook her head and threw her oven mitt into the sink. “Hope you choke on it,” she said, storming out of the kitchen.

  Ingrid was smiling and started to clean up. “Some people are not meant for the kitchen. I imagine she has other talents.”

  “She does. Hey, I was wondering … how long does it usually take your yard crew to mow and manicure this beautiful property?”

  “I don’t know,” she said. “It takes as long as it takes.” She walked over to the sink and looked out the window. “They don’t do the manicuring and mowing on the same day. They’re almost done for today. Probably be back tomorrow.” I heard the lawnmower cut out in the distance. Ingrid waved to someone and said, “And there they go. Bye bye, Gustof.”

  Chapter 39

  We arrived at the Goertzes’ party fashionably late. Located off the Oos River in Baden-Baden, the estate, more like a medium-sized castle, was partially surrounded at its back by the Black Forest, and was only visible from the river, or by air, or once you’ve cleared its mile-long private drive. Although discreetly hidden, the estate’s three hundred-eighty acres were surrounded by fifteen-foot-high fencing, topped with concertina wire. Armed patrols, some with leashed German Shepherds at their sides, roamed the perimeter on a 24/7, purposely varied, schedule. I’d studied the estate’s geography, as well as its most recent architectural drawings. The castle itself had a rich and colorful history. The original castle walls, surrounding grounds, and vapor baths were remnants of early Roman settlements, existing around 150 AD. Leon had meticulously had the structure rebuilt atop its original foundation, and the ancient nearby Roman spas were brought back to their original glory.

  As we approached the castle we merged into a small traffic jam of Rolls-Royces, Bentleys and Mercedes. For vehicles that weren’t chauffeur-driven, there was valet service. Either way, autos pulled up, dropped off their passengers and, seconds later, were driven to a large clearing, in the distant trees, and parked a half-mile back from the estate.

  Although we were told the dress code was somewhat formal, Ingrid assured us that that really meant very formal—black tie for men, gowns and sparkles for women. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d worn a white dinner jacket, a cummerbund, and a black bow tie … the whole nine yards. Manfred, armed with my clothing sizes, had returned from town with everything I’d need. Shoes were a tad tight but, all in all, he did a good job. Both Ingrid and Pippa had spent hours preparing themselves. I’d worked it out with Pippa ahead of time: she was to knock on Ingrid’s door and together they would disappear into her bathroom for help with Pippa’s makeup. This gave me enough time for one more tapping-in session at the rooftop’s transformer. Fortunately, it was uneventful: no desperate communications—no one asking for my help.

  Ingrid and Pippa sat side by side in the back seat. I sat in the seat across from them, facing backwards, and found it hard to take my eyes off Pippa. She was wearing a long, cream-colored sequined dress that contoured to her body in a way I wouldn’t have thought possible. Her short black hair contrasted perfectly with the simple diamond necklace nestling at the base of her exquisite long neck.

  We waited for Manfred to make his way around the back of the limo and open the rear passenger-side door. He helped Ingrid, then Pippa, out of the car. I got out and took in the spectacle in front of me. The sun had recently set, and hidden floodlights illuminated the block stone walls. Jutting out from the castle walls were two tall towers, both with conical spires atop them, reaching one hundred feet into the air. Although not a drawbridge in the traditional sense, the dual massive front doors certainly gave that impression. Young men and women, dressed alike in unisex black tuxedos, greeted guests as they climbed the stairs leading to the front entrance.

  “Ms. Krueger, Mr. and Mrs. Craft: Hello, my name is Melinda. I’d like to welcome you to Weilerbaden Castle. May I walk you inside?”

  Ingrid spoke up for the three of us, “Yes, please do, young lady.” We entered through the doors and it was evident that we hadn’t entered into the castle itself, but into a fortified barbican—an outpost or gateway that preceded the main structure. Thick-planked wooden flooring and arrow-slit windows gave the area a traditional, medieval ambiance. Wax candles, supported on high ironwork, flickered all around us. The three of us, along with other guests and their hosts, crossed through the room and out onto an arched stone and wood bridge. A roaring river, a moat of sorts no less than thirty feet wide, rushed beneath us, twenty feet below.

  Pippa, holding my hand, was also awestruck by the grandeur of everything around us. Another set of tall doors, identical to the others, was held wide open. I heard the sounds of distant music.

  “Mr. and Mrs. Goertz request that I bring you directly to them, just as soon as you arrive,” Melinda was saying to us. She’d briefly turned and walked backward so we could hear her voice above the increasing volume of music and the other guests’ chatter. I recalled the room from
the drawings. This was the main, or great, room. Much of the medieval atmosphere was now gone. Although some stone and wood accents remained, the room was a modern and tastefully appointed space. Indirect lighting illuminated tall ceilings—thick timber beams stretched up to an interconnecting apex, high above us.

  I noticed the errant security personnel standing in the shadows, observing the guests. Each man had a little coiled wire hanging from his left ear. With a trained eye for such things, I could see the slight bulge of concealed weapons beneath suit jackets. I also noticed that more than anyone else they were watching my every movement.

  We followed Melinda across the room, past numerous bejeweled women in long gowns, and men garbed in black or white jackets; past servers laden with trays of sparkling, bubbling champagne; and toward a wall of tall, sliding windows that had been pushed aside and recessed into walls, allowing access to the expansive cobblestone patio beyond.

  We walked together into a courtyard, easily the size of two side-by-side football fields. Now fully dusk, I could just barely discern the castle’s far wall, and, atop it, a parapet-walkway off in the distance. Both back corners of the castle had formidable cylindrical-shaped towers with conical spires.

  Outside, where we now stood, the real party was taking place. A band was playing lively music on an elevated stage and people were dancing—most guests held drinks in their hands. Melinda walked us past a long bar where men waited to order a drink. It was then that I noticed the bartender scurrying around, a bead of sweat on his brow. I couldn’t quite keep the smile from my face. Baltimore glanced at me with an expression that could only say one thing … Don’t say one fucking word.

  I saw the Goertzes up ahead, surrounded by six or seven guests. A tabletop, now overflowing, had been set up to hold Heidi’s birthday gifts. Pippa carried a large gift box from the three of us. I didn’t want to touch the thing. Earlier, while still getting dressed, I heard a soft knock on the bedroom door. I opened it and nearly jumped out of my skin. A horrific face rushed directly toward me. As my brain tried to determine what fight or flight instinct to go with, Pippa was already laughing, holding up some kind of freak mask.

  “What the hell is that thing?” I asked.

  “Punic charm mask—very old: Roman. Expensive and our gift for Heidi.”

  “Seriously?”

  “She collects masks … has a whole room somewhere in her home dedicated solely to her mask collection.”

  “Just keep it away from me …”

  Leon saw us as we approached and smiled broadly. Heidi turned toward us and also smiled. She had on a sleek black gown and wore matching gold earrings and necklace.

  Pippa gave Heidi her gift, which she placed on the growing mountain of brightly wrapped boxes beside her.

  “You didn’t need to do that,” Heidi said. “There should be some kind of rule that new friends are excused from that kind of nonsense.”

  “Oh, no, it was our pleasure,” Pippa said. “We hope you like it.”

  Leon shook my hand and held it. “Glad you could make it, David. I want to apologize to you for not recognizing you—you know, at the track.”

  “There’s no reason why you should have,” I replied. “I’m nobody important.”

  “Let’s dispense with false modesty, David. You are among the elite when it comes to forging new, cutting-edge technology. What you’re doing with media storage will change the face of business.”

  “Well, thank you. I’m optimistic.”

  Ingrid noticed William Genz over by the bar and excused herself to join him.

  “Look, there are some people I’d like you to meet. Pamela, can I steal your husband away from you for a bit?” Goertz asked.

  “Uh, please, keep him as long as you want,” Pippa replied, bringing a laugh from Heidi.

  “I like this girl,” Heidi said. “Come on, I’m gong to introduce you to the stodgy women of Baden-Baden.” The two women walked off, arm in arm.

  Leon laid one hand on my shoulder and spoke to me as we walked toward the castle proper. “What do you say we get ourselves a drink?” We bellied up to the bar and Leon held up two fingers to Baltimore. “Scotch,” he ordered, above the noise of the crowd. Baltimore poured the drinks and put them in front of us. He looked worried. I took a quick look through his thoughts. Something was cataclysmically wrong—he was barely holding it together.

  I had a hard time tracking the rapid influx of thoughts and images coursing through his brain. If he’d just take a damn breath and calm down, I’d be able to catch what was happening. And then I put it together: a phone conversation from Calloway … an alarming CNN report, discussing the potential financial implications of three U.S. goliath-sized companies taken off the market, becoming privately-held institutions … Earlier today the NY Stock Exchange was forced to stop all trading as stock prices plummeted.

  The man standing at my side was bringing the world’s financial markets to their knees.

  Chapter 40

  Pippa walked alongside Heidi; every few paces they were stopped by a friend, or an associate, wishing her a happy birthday. Heidi was small and petite and Pippa felt she towered over the fair-haired German woman.

  “There you are!” A robust woman, looking uncomfortable in very high heels, stepped toward Heidi for a hug and a mutual kiss on each cheek.

  When introduced to Pippa/Pamela, the woman hugged and kissed her as well.

  “Sorry,” Heidi said, as they moved on toward the far side of the courtyard, “kissy crowd. That was the mayor. Never misses a party, or free booze, for that matter.” The last comment was given without a trace of humor.

  Heidi withdrew a small bottle of sanitizer from an almost-invisible pocket and squeezed a few dabs into the palm of one hand before vigorously rubbing both hands together. “Why can’t women learn to just fist-bump, like men do?” She held both palms in the air like she was signaling someone to stop. “Sorry, I’m particular about who touches me.”

  “That’s fine—perfectly understandable,” Pippa said.

  “Hey, how would you like to see the spas?” Heidi asked.

  “You have spas here?”

  “Do we have spas here? This is Baden-Baden! Our castle was built on one of the original ancient spas found in the area. Come, come, I’ll show you.” Heidi grabbed Pippa’s hand and pulled her along. Well, okay … I guess I rate higher than the mayor …

  “This way, watch your step,” Heidi said, as they entered through an unremarkable wooden doorway placed beneath a sign reading Verjüngende Spas.

  Concrete steps led down to a platform that transitioned into age-worn stone blocks. “You’re going to love this. It’s why we built, actually rebuilt, the castle here in the first place.”

  They were descending into a cavern. The air smelled musky.

  “The surviving foundation and subterranean spas of Weilerbaden Castle date back to the first century, A.D. This is original Romanesque construction.” Arched stone-block doorways, some padlocked, led off to unseen corridors. Heidi continued to talk as they descended. She’d removed her shoes and was carrying them by their straps in one hand. There was something innocently playful about the way she hopped barefoot from step to step.

  “In the twelfth century the castle was repurposed to protect the area’s surrounding silver mines. Later, in the late-seventeenth century, it was besieged, nearly totally destroyed by French soldiers during the Dutch War. The castle wasn’t rebuilt until we came along, five years ago.”

  They’d reached the pools. Four of them, in total, were of different sizes and shapes. More worn stone steps led into each pool, at various locations. The air was hot and steam misted-off the water. Heidi dropped her shoes, the sound echoing off the cavern walls. Both hands were working the zipper at the back of her dress. In a fluid motion the zipper came down and she stepped out of the dress as it slid to the floor. Naked, she descended the largest of the pool’s steps. Pippa watched as Heidi let the water envelop her. When the depth of the water re
ached beneath her small perky breasts she lowered herself, until the water level was right beneath her chin.

  “Aren’t you coming in?”

  Pippa smiled, somewhat uncomfortable with Heidi’s immodesty. “What about your guests? I don’t know, I’m—”

  “Oh, come on … just for a minutes or two—you’ll see—it’s beyond wonderful.”

  Pippa shrugged and within several moments removed her own dress, bra and panties. She eased herself into the water and positioned herself close to Heidi.

  “This is amazing,” Pippa said, feeling her body sway in the pool’s gentle currents.

  “What’s that a tattoo of?” Heidi asked.

  Pippa had to think about that for a beat, then remembered: “Oh, that’s a ladybug.”

  “That’s cute. Stand up—let me see it,” Heidi said, looking around Pippa’s back.

  Pippa hesitated, then stood and turned around so the tattoo was just above the waterline. She felt Heidi trace the contours of the ladybug with a finger and then let it linger on her upper butt cheek.

  “Way too hot in here for me,” Pippa said, “and my hair’s getting frizzy.” Pippa waded over to the steps and got out of the pool. To her surprise, there were now two large, folded, bath towels stacked by their clothes. She felt Heidi’s gaze linger on her from the pool, taking in every inch of her body. She pulled one of the towels free and wrapped it around herself.

  Heidi was out of the water and at her side. “I want you both to spend the weekend here with us.”

  “Oh, I don't know,” Pippa said, still feeling somewhat uncomfortable. “David’s in the middle of some business and—”

  Heidi cut her off, her raised voice filling the cavern, “No! You’ll stay here.”

  Pippa realized the woman was not used to being told no. After an awkward silence, Heidi eventually attempted a smile. “Come on. We’ll have so much fun … get to know each other.”

  Pippa shook her head. “Sorry, if I’d known … But we didn’t pack anything.”