“And what about us?” Sophia asked. “What do you—?”
“Mrs. Curt has room for all of you, and it will not cost you anything to go there. I’ll have other guards at your home in Calistoga. They’ll look after the mare you have there.” Saint-Germain saw the ghost of a smile form On Sophia’s lips.
“Where do you plan to find these guards?” Pietragnelli asked, his curiosity increasing.
“There are any number of men eager for work who were soldiers in the Great War and haven’t been able to use the skills they learned in the army; given the state of the country, they will be inclined to give superior service,” said King. “I have discussed this with an employment agency that usually supplies guards for banks and factories and grand events, and he is confident that he can provide more than a dozen competent men within a week, if you decide to go along with this plan.”
“Soldiers on my land,” Pietragnelli lamented. “What are we coming to?”
“You will find that they can do the work you need, and in a proficient manner, with a minimum of disruption to the necessary work of the vineyard,” said King. “You will have some respite, which you will need, for once the miscreants are apprehended, you will, of course, return at once to participate in their prosecution.” He paused. “If the political climate is as … narrow as you have said, it may be that the court may prefer not to litigate, but we will have the kind of witnesses they dare not ignore, and that will work to our advantage.”
“It sounds to me as if you think this is the best way to deal with our problem,” said Ethan, still a bit defensive.
“Yes, I do. I think so long as you are here, the White Legion, or whoever is behind this attack, will continue to escalate the offensive against you; it is possible they may attempt something far worse than shooting out windows, such as setting the house or the winery on fire,” said King in a very measured way.
“You’re trying to frighten us,” said Ethan belligerently.
“No; you’re already frightened, and well you should be; I would be, were I in your situation,” said Saint-Germain. “I am certain that you will do well to go to Ponderosa Lodge so that the guards can handle this. If you insist on remaining here, it will be more difficult to protect you, and your workmen, and their families.”
Pietragnelli pressed his lips together, and tried to sort out his emotions. “I will need at least one night to ruminate.”
“By all means, do,” said Saint-Germain. “I hope you will discuss it at length, and examine any and all alternatives that may be open to you.” He shifted his stance so his lower shoulders rested against the mantel, and thrust his hands into his trouser-pockets. “No matter what, you will have disruption in your life; it is only a question to what extent you have upheaval, and how you decide to address it.”
“You say that easily enough,” Ethan accused.
“Hardly easily,” said Saint-Germain.
“You’re a powerful and wealthy man, and you have undoubtedly found ways to avoid the intrusions of life.” Ethan sat forward on the settee. “You can buy your peace, if you must.”
Before Saint-Germain could think of a response, Rogerio spoke. “Mr. Ragoczy left Spain less than a year ago with a price on his head. There is no reason to believe that has changed. He had to leave his businesses behind, to have them confiscated by the military insurgents. And that wasn’t the first time he has had to leave everything behind. If you think he is recommending this move to you as a cavalier gesture, you have underestimated him and his regard for you and this place. He is trying to ensure your safety, and the safety of this vineyard, if he can.” He noticed the frown on Saint-Germain’s face, and said, “I have no wish to embarrass you, but this impetuous young man doesn’t know what you’ve been through, and unless he does, he’ll make assumptions that are … ill-considered.” He looked directly at Ethan Carmody. “If Mr. Ragoczy advises you to make a strategic retreat, you may be confident that he recommends it to your benefit.”
“These men are trying to lay claim to my vineyards,” Pietragnelli stated with as much emphasis as he could summon.
“Which we are trying to prevent,” said Oscar King. “If you are willing to spend a week or two in the Sierra Nevada, you give us the opportunity to take a more active role in protecting this place.”
“So you say,” said Pietragnelli, doing his best not to be resentful.
“I’m on my father’s side, whatever it may be,” said Sophia, taking Pietragnelli’s hand in hers.
“An admirable sentiment,” said King, “but it may not be very practical in the long run.” He pointed to the cardboard over one of the French door windowpanes. “So far they have used rifles and shotguns, but there are other weapons—Molotov cocktails, dynamite, or something equally destructive—that could be used. Usually threats increase in severity as long as there is resistance to them. I do think there is reason to be unsettled about your vulnerability. Your workmen aren’t trained to deal with such things, but the men I have had recommended are. They would prefer not to have to look after you as well as your lands.”
“You’ve done so much without a word to me,” Pietragnelli said, glowering.
“I have no wish to alert your enemies,” said Saint-Germain, “and if your operators do listen to your conversations as much as you say they do, I would not do you a good turn by revealing too much on the telephone.”
Pietragnelli managed a single nod. “Yes. You’re right to be careful about that.” He leaned over and gave Sophia’s shoulder a squeeze before letting her go. “I know how conscientious you are, and I honor your rectitude, but I don’t like having decisions forced upon me.”
“I do understand,” said Saint-Germain, “little though you may think so.”
“I hate having to leave my vineyard. It smacks of cowardice, and that galls me. What does it say to my neighbors if I retreat in the face of trouble? It may be as you say, and being here makes the chance for more destruction all the greater, but I do not want to abandon this vineyard, not for vicious bigots.” Pietragnelli got up and began to pace the length of the parlor, going as far as the door to the dining room, then back to the French doors. “I cannot see the use of going away, though I know you mean well by making the offer. If the men you say you can hire are as capable as you say, they must be able to—” He stopped. “But if you’re right, and our presence makes the danger worse, what am I to do?”
“Go to Ponderosa Lodge,” said King. “You can have daily reports, if you like, so long as they go through my office. I don’t want anyone telephoning directly, to keep your location as secret as we can. If the operators gossip, you must be careful not to give them any grist for their mills.”
“It still seems like running away,” said Pietragnelli.
“It must,” said Saint-Germain. “And I realize how much you would rather stay and fight. But if your vineyard is destroyed and your house wrecked, wouldn’t that be a Pyrrhic victory?”
“It might be,” Pietragnelli allowed.
“So you have much to gain in doing those things that are inclined to minimize the potential for damage to your business and property,” said King. “In the meantime, there are any number of things I can do that might not stop the White Legion or the Leonardis, but can make it more difficult for them to act” He looked at Pietragnelli. “It will be easier for me to make my case if you are not here, for that would help me to show a credible threat to life and property.”
Ethan was intrigued. “What sort of things can you do?”
“We can file a cease-and-desist order to begin with, a reasonable thing to do,” said King, ticking the possibilities off on his fingers. “Then I could prepare a lawsuit alleging that the White Legion has undertaken a campaign of assaults with the intention of coercing certain farmers and vintners to sell their lands to avoid further attacks. Some of your neighbors would probably be willing to support that, but it may be a bit more difficult to prevail in court. On the favorable side, it would draw attention to th
e pattern of intimidation, and that will be of interest to the Attorney General in Sacramento. I’m sure the White Legion wouldn’t like having their activities in the spotlight. Nor would your sheriff, for it might lead to demands for his resignation. Then I could—”
“Never mind. I get the picture,” said Ethan, and went on, “I suppose you know the White Legion has men in Napa County, too, from one end of the valley to the other. I’ve seen their pamphlets in Calistoga, where we live.”
“I want to say no, absolutely no,” said Pietragnelli. “But I will do as you ask, and take the evening to discuss it with Sophia and Ethan. It may be more complicated than I first thought.” He glanced at Ethan. “Why didn’t you say anything about the pamphlets?”
Ethan shrugged. “I supposed you knew. I didn’t see any point in talking about the obvious, not where the operators might listen in.”
“I understand,” said Pietragnelli, doing his best to keep his anxiety in check. “But it puts all of this in a different light, unfortunately.”
King nodded. “You let me do what I have to do, and make the most of your time away from Geyserville.”
“What about the Yoshimura farm? The Leonardis won’t take it over for another month, if their offer is accepted by the family; that is still not certain. And there are still things there the midnight harvesters want I wouldn’t like to leave the farm unguarded. If you’re going to protect my vineyard, you should take care of the Yoshimura farm as well.”
“If that is what I must do to satisfy you, then I will,” said Saint-Germain.
Pietragnelli shook his head. “I haven’t made up my mind yet.”
“Nor do I expect you to,” said Saint-Germain. “But I want you to know that I am willing to make many concessions if only it will help you to go to Lake Tahoe.”
“It is so far away,” said Pietragnelli.
“You can drive it in a day—I did.” Saint-Germain nodded toward Oscar King. “He can make arrangements to have a car at your disposal, or an open ticket for the train—you can catch it at Truckee and ride it down to Davis and come on from there with your son, or in a hired car, whichever suits you more.”
“You’re being very magnanimous,” said Pietragnelli. “I should comply with your requests—I could catch up on my reading and have property under guard—but I am still not sanguine about going away while my vineyard is under siege.”
“All I ask is that you’ll consider my offer, and what could happen if you decide to remain here.” Saint-Germain lowered his eyes.
“Will you still supply us with guards and this attorney and all the rest if we don’t leave?” Pietragnelli demanded.
“Certainly,” said Saint-Germain. “I wouldn’t leave you without any additional support when you will need it more urgently than ever.”
“So you say,” Ethan challenged. “But why shouldn’t you compel us to do as you wish?”
“Because then you would resent the whole, and you would not cooperate with the plans Mr. King will outline to you.” He moved away from the mantel. “I think you have enough to think about We’ll leave you to your deliberations; I will contact you tomorrow morning to learn your decision.” He went to the door into the living room. “Incidentally, if you change your minds later on, we can always find ways to deal with your new decision, whatever it may be.”
“You’re so very reasonable,” Ethan flung at him as if trying to force Saint-Germain to rescind his offers and leave them alone.
“You see, it is easier for Mr. King, Mr. Rogers, and me. This isn’t our family business and our home, so it behooves us to be willing to accommodate you, for you have so much to lose.” Saint-Germain executed a little bow, and then went directly to the front door, holding it open for Rogerio and Oscar King; they went out into the windy spring day.
TEXT OF A LETTER FROM MORETON GUARDIAN SERVICE IN SACRAMENTO TO OSCAR KING IN SAN FRANCISCO.
MORETON GUARDIAN SERVICE
1108 D STREET
SACRAMENTO, CALIFORNIA
March 26, 1937
Oscar King
King Lowenthal Taylor & Frost
630 Kearny Street
San Francisco, California
Dear Mr. King,
I am in receipt of your check for $4,000.00 dollars drawn on an account on the San Francisco Bank of America for one month of guard services to be provided at three plantations of the Pietragnelli Vineyards, of Geyserville and Calistoga, and the farm of the late Hiro Yoshimura. This will provide you the services of thirty-two men at the Geyserville properties, all proficient in the use of small arms and experienced in patrol, entry and exit inspections, border maintenance and monitoring. They will work in twelve-hour shifts of sixteen. A total of eight will be assigned to the Calistoga vineyard, and will work in shifts of four. All shifts will report in at the end of their shifts with a complete report of incidents. If any specific infractions of the law are observed, they will be duly reported in writing to the proper authorities as well as to you for the perusal of your client I will also submit written summaries to you at the end of each week.
I realize our services are very costly, but I make no apology for it, because we deliver precisely what we pledge. I have never lost anything or anyone we have been hired to protect We have patrolled at San Simeon and Spreckles mansion, and protected the most gaudy of Hollywood premieres.
I have taken the maps you submitted to me and I have reviewed them with my senior employees. We have arranged our patrols in overlapping patterns, which I will, if your client insists, explain to you. I would prefer to keep such information among my own workers, for the patrols are less likely to be breached if only we know what they are. If the client should insist on being provided this information, I will tender it, but under protest for I do not think it advisable to let our plans beyond our immediate control.
My patrol leaders at Geyserville are Hill and Morgenstern, at Calistoga Parker and Scott. I will give them any names you designate for permission to enter the Pietragnelli properties, and the Yoshimura farm. As soon as I have these names and a description of the persons in question we will begin our work.
It is a pleasure doing business with you. If there is anything you or your client need to discuss with me, you have only to telephone and I will do my utmost to answer your questions promptly.
Sincere regards,
J.D. Moreton
Founder, Moreton Guardian Service
chapter five
Rowena could not identify the sound that had brought her awake, but it had jarred her out of a sound sleep as surely as an earthquake would have done. For several seconds she lay still, breathing through her mouth, trying to decide what she had heard; she turned on her bedside lamp and squinted at her alarm clock: one-seventeen. When she had retired a little after ten, she had read for half-an-hour before turning out the light, and fallen asleep fairly quickly. For a moment she considered calling out, but then all the warnings Saint-Germain had given her over the last five weeks stifled the cry in her throat. She did not know what might be in the house. Things she had dismissed so easily in the day now were more troublesome than when she had once again discussed them with Saint-Germain earlier in the day.
There was another rolling click, as if a furtive step moved upward, and this time she knew beyond a doubt what it was: someone was climbing the stairs. She sat up, prepared to call out, hoping Saint-Germain had changed his mind and was going to spend the night with her after all. But there was no greeting, and the movements she heard so faintly seemed more stealthy than romantic. On impulse, she turned out the light and lay still, listening. There were two other bedrooms on this floor and both were nearer the stairs than hers; if the person on the stairs was unfamiliar with the layout, she would have a little time. She would make the most of it.
Very slowly she eased herself out of bed, flinching at every hint of sound she made, from the sigh of the shifting blankets to the soft groan of the springs; as she perceived it, every whisper was magnified, and the ho
use amplified all sounds to the level of honks and bellows. As she set her foot on the floor, she held still, wanting to be certain before she made her next move, for once she left the bed, she would have to be prepared to act How much she wanted to rush, but she forced herself to wad her pillows under the covers in what she hoped would look like a sleeping shape, then inched her way to her armoire, gingerly pulling the mirrored door open and reaching inside for her father’s over-and-under shotgun. She had loaded it over a week ago, and felt foolish while she did; now she took great comfort in the metal barrels and the beautiful rosewood stock. She moved warily, bringing the stock to her shoulder, the barrels still pointed toward the floor, even as she closed the armoire door and crept into the niche between the end of the armoire and the wall where she waited, ready to bring up the barrels and fire.
There was a quiet footfall in the corridor, and the faint squeak of a hinge: the person in the house had opened the bathroom door. Clearly he did not know his way around, which struck Rowena as being increasingly ominous with every passing second her alarm clock measured off in ticks that seemed as loud as firecrackers. Waiting was nerve-wracking, making her acutely aware of how isolated she was here. She had to resist the urge to burst out of her bedroom door and confront the invader. But that would mean making noise, and noise would alert the culprit, and that could lead to her losing what little advantage she might have. If only she had decided on a second telephone and had it installed in her bedroom! But there was no point in lamenting over sins of omission, not here and not now. She made herself concentrate on everything around her, obstinately refusing to let her attention slip away to less frightening things than hiding here in the dark with a shotgun in her hands.
Finally her door-knob twisted, and the door began to swing inward.
Midnight Harvest Page 48
