A Wake of Vultures

by Patrick Kansoer

  He is, to be sure, a bit much, but he is the best I’ve ever known at what he does. I assure you that should you shun his hospitality, which he very seldom offers, on this occasion, he would honor your request for a quick interview, give you a surface review and leave it at that. I’m sure the result would be unsatisfactory for both you and Petris; however, it is unlikely that he would ever offer a second consultation opportunity.”

  Keren’s face reddened a bit at Ted’s monolog, not because it was rude or off base but because she recognized Ted’s words as truth. She was in over her head. She did need help, and it seemed from everything she had discovered so far that Petris was, most likely, the answer to the problem. The idea rankled her and bit into her pride, but she hadn’t been this successful for this long without allowing her common sense to override her emotional response.

  “O.K. Ted, you’re right. I didn’t come six hundred miles just to have a hissy-fit and stomp off in a huff without getting what I came after, lead on sir, lead on.”

  Ted lifted Keren’s bag and beckoned her to follow him up the stone stairs and into the grand hall.

  “Welcome to Schloss den Totentanz madam.”

  Keren looked puzzled. “Schloss Totentanz?”, she asked.

  “It’s one of Petris’ personal amusements Keren.

  Petris’ business name is Totentanz LLC. Translated from the German, “totentanz” means “dance of the dead”, so Schloss Totentanz translates to Castle of the dance of the dead. A bit macabre but, considering Petris’ desert-dry sense of humor, very apropos.”

  The interior of the “schloss” lived up to the promise made by the exterior. Much stone, polished dark wood, elegant furnishings.

  Following Ted’s lead up the grand staircase to the second floor to a corridor with three doors on either side. Ted opened the second door on the left and led her into a suite of rooms that would be fit for royalty or captains of industry. A well-furnished sitting room led to an opulently appointed bed chamber with a bathroom suite adjoining that would do justice to the pages of an architectural magazine. In spite of herself, Keren was impressed.

  “Quite a joint Ted. Petris must have done very well for himself since parting ways with Douglas.”

  “Well, we’re comfortable here, but I won’t be telling tales out of school. I’m sure that Petris will tell you the story over dinner. You have about an hour to freshen up, change or just veg out. I’ll be back then to take you to Petris in the dining room. By the way, do you have any food allergies that we should know about, or any food preferences?”

  “No food allergies Ted and I’m basically a meat and potatoes kind of girl so any old thing will be just dandy.

  “O.K. then Keren. I’ll see you in about an hour. If you need anything there is a telephone in each room. My number is eight, so if you need something just ring me up. There’s a small wet bar by the television and an icemaker next to the mini-fridge on the other side. Make yourself at home. I’ll see you in an hour.”

  “Quite a joint. Thanks Ted. See you in a while.”

  After Ted left Keren began to explore her suite. First, she opened the mini-fridge and retrieved a can of ginger ale. Walking to the wet bar, she grabbed a glass and plopped in a few ice cubes carefully pouring the beverage into the glass before taking a sip.

  She opened her suitcase that Ted had left on the luggage stand at the foot of the bed and arranged her hanging clothes in the closet and carried her toiletry bag into the adjoining bathroom. That room was an experience all to itself. It was appointed in marble and brass and had the look of what you would expect in a five-star hotel. Double vanity, steam shower, heated towel racks and a full assortment of top grade toiletries. Apparently, even though Petris gave the impression that he wasn’t a “people person” he, or possibly Ted, made certain that all the amenities were there to cater to a guest comfort.

  Keren took a long, steamy and leisurely shower toweled off with one of the luxurious bath sheets and attended to her hair.

  She didn’t ever bother with too much make up, just a quick streak of lipstick and she was ready to dress for dinner.

  She had packed for travel, so she chose a simple black skirt, and an Hermes silk blouse with a complimentary scarf and simple black flats. It was a look that would make the average guy on the street turn for a second look.

  The hour passed quickly and almost before she realized the passage of time, Ted was gently knocking on her door.

  “Time for dinner Keren. I will accompany you to the dining room. Petris is already there waiting.”

  “Dining room? Why so formal? I figured we would just have sandwiches or something in Petris’ study.”

  “Keren, you don’t really know Petris very well. He has some very distinct preferences and habits. He hates to leave this home for business or anything that would keep him from reading his books, tending his cats, or eating the gourmet meals he fancies. Generally, if he cannot handle business either over the telephone or on the internet, he will most likely pass the assignment on to another operator.”

  “Well Ted, if Petris is such a recluse why has he agreed to meet me and why has he allowed me into his home?”

  “Some of it I can answer Keren and some of it you will have to ask Petris yourself. Petris loves a good challenge. There are not too many scenarios he hasn’t run across and the story you related over the phone piqued his interest enough to invite you down here. The other reason has something to do with the relationship to Douglas Gunn… both yours and his. But here we are at the dining room, so you can continue the conversation with the man himself. Ms. Keren Odensdotter, this is Petris.”

  As Keren crossed the threshold of the formal dining-room, her gaze was first drawn to the formally set French Provincial dining table surrounded by heavy chairs upholstered in what appeared to be a medieval tapestry fabric. The settings appeared to be Royal Copenhagen, the flatware had the unmistakable look of Easterling and the glassware was definitely Waterford. Petris absolutely did not furnish his dining room at Walmart.

  Her eyes then fell upon the man himself as he rose from his chair at the head of the table to greet her.

  “Pleased to make your acquaintance, Keren Odensdotter.”; he said while extending his hand toward her. “Please take a seat here at my right and we can get properly acquainted as Ted brings out our dinner. He told me of your ‘meat and potatoes girl’ remark so I would hope that our little repast will be to your liking.”

  Keren’s first impression setting eyes on her host was that he looked like a cross between Phil Robertson from Duck Dynasty and Dan Haggerty from Grizzly Adams.

  His mostly white hair, shot through with gray is worn in a military-style, close cropped, high and tight while his beard could be best described as bushy and unruly. He has a voice too tired to hurry and too powerful to slow down. It sounds like a lion gargling with pebbles... Wagner being played by a garage band. The timber of it a mid-western Chicago school radio announcer combined with just the barest twang of Missouri Ozarks. His hazel eyes seem to see everything and divulge nothing at all. He weighs between 250 and 290, and he limits his physical movements to what he regards as the absolute essentials.

  He is tall, commanding, dignified, old-world courteous and apparently hospitable when he chooses to be.

  “Thank you Petris for your hospitality. By the way, I mean no disrespect in calling you Petris. Ted told me that you prefer to be addressed that way. I am quite impressed by all this,” she said making a sweeping motion with her arm to indicate the dining room, and by implication, the estate surrounding it. “It’s all just a bit overwhelming.”

  “No offense taken Keren. Ted told you the absolute truth. It is one of my many idiosyncrasies I’m afraid. I guess I have become so used to this mausoleum that its effect on the first-time visitor is no longer a surprise. It is comfortable though, in its own way and I find that it meets my needs most admirably.”

  “Petris, I know that you worked for Douglas Gunn when he and I were sharin
g the offices on Randolph street and I know that Douglas, billed out a decent amount, but he couldn’t possibly have paid you enough to afford a place like this. Again, no disrespect intended.”

  “Ah yes, it is a bit much I guess, and again, I am not put off by your curiosity. But allow me a bit of a correction regarding my relationship with Douglas. I worked with Douglas, not for him. More of a consultant or independent expert rather than an employee. Douglas was only one of many consulting clients I did assignments for and, in many cases, I worked for a percentage based on recovery or amount saved rather than a flat fee. So, in essence, on many cases Douglas and I were financial partners on a case. There was never an employer-employee relationship.”

  “That explains part of it, but this…” Keren once again made the sweeping motion with her arm, “this wasn’t paid for out of household savings from grocery coupons.”

  Petris’ eyes crinkled and a broad smile split his beard while a gravelly chuckle emanated from somewhere deep within his barrel frame. “Quite true Keren Odensdotter, quite true. Actually, this property was the hunting lodge of a fairly well-known businessman and philanthropist in this area. He had gotten himself all tangled up in something that was quite possibly going to cost him somewhere in the tens of millions of dollars and, most likely, his good reputation.

  He contacted me through a mutual friend and between the efforts of Ted and myself, the situation was brought to a salubrious conclusion. I took ownership of the Totentanz estate and all its accouterments as my fee. It has worked out well for both of us. Ah, here is Ted with our first course, an old fashioned twelve to one chilled shrimp cocktail served with a sauce of my own recipe. Please enjoy.”

  “Oh my goodness! Those shrimp are the size of tennis balls. I haven’t seen a shrimp cocktail like this since I was a little girl and my dad took me for a special dinner at a place in Chicago called Lowrey’s Prime Rib. If the beginning is any indication, this will be quite the dinner. Again, I’m curious about Ted… his serving dinner for example. He seems to wear many hats in the course of his duties for you.”

  “Well, you are justified in your questions Keren, both asked and implied. Let me see if I can complete some information to help you understand. First off, Ted is an indispensable right hand to me. His presence here has all the advantages of having a very accomplished wife with none of the emotional baggage I would be encumbered with in that type of relationship. He is my majordomo, my chef, my ‘leg man’, if you will permit an old nineteen-forties term. He runs my house, manages my business and, if I am honest with myself, he runs me.

  Without Ted there would be no Totentanz LLC and absolutely a much more miserable Petris.”

  Keren concentrated on Petris’ monolog while taking one of the giant shrimp on her fork, dipping it into the cocktail sauce and taking a bite.

  “This is absolutely delicious!”; she exclaimed through a mouthful of crustacean. “Forgive me for interrupting. Please continue.”

  “I’m glad it meets with your approval Keren. I believe that the rest of the dinner will also be agreeable. We are having a good, old-fashioned Chicago steak house meal; Wedge salad with bleu-cheese dressing, a twelve ounce rib-eye steak-Pittsburgh-rare with compound butter, a double-baked potato and sautéed asparagus with Hollandaise sauce followed by home-made peach ice cream. Just as if you ordered off the old Lowrey’s menu. At one time that establishment on Ohio street was one of my favorites.”

  “You’re going to spoil me Petris, but it sounds absolutely delicious. Ted mentioned that part of the reason for my invitation was that my story piqued your interest, but part of it had to do with the relationship between Doug Gunn and me as well as his and your relationship. I know I sound like a prosecutor here, but what’s that all about?”

  “I’ll try to make some sense out of this for you Keren. As you may recollect I was what you might laughingly refer to as Doug’s staff.

  Not that he spent much of his time in your shared offices, he just needed someplace to have his mail sent and your receptionist to field phone calls and take messages. As for me, I pretty much worked out of my car or out of my house. I don’t believe that I was in the office more than three times during the time he was based out of the Wells street address.”

  “I don’t recall meeting you except one time for a few minutes.”; Keren responded through a mouthful of lettuce and bleu-cheese. “I never quite knew exactly what you did for Doug but he always said you were the best researcher and investigator he had ever run across, even in the service.”

  “Well, I met Doug after his days in the Air Force. I was working gathering some private intelligence for a business owner that Doug had met socially and we got to talking. We needn’t go into too many details as to my background. Let’s just say that although I was never in the military,, I made myself useful to certain governmental operatives and I had this knack for digging up information that wasn’t obviously related and then connect the dots, as it were, to make coherent sense out of what I uncovered.” Petris stopped speaking long enough to cut a piece of the very rare and well marbled rib-eye, pop it into his mouth and enjoy the flavor.

  “At any rate Keren,”; Petris continued a few moments later, “I realized that Doug was a pretty good litigator but absolutely abysmal at business. If there was to be follow up on cases, I would have to do it. If bills were to be paid, I would have to arrange to pay them. If checks that came in needed to be deposited that fell into my lap as well. If you’ll allow me a few minutes, I’m going to do hand-to-hand combat with this excellent steak for a few minutes.”

  Keren just nodded and concentrated on her plate and for the next seven minutes or so, the only sounds in the dining room were of two people enjoying their meal.

  “Ah, that was excellent. Perhaps I can finish the background story before Ted appears with the peach ice cream. It was at about that time that I made the acquaintance of Sherman Jacob. He was a bit strange, to say the least, but quite intelligent and I learned a few things from him I didn’t know about researching with a computer.

  Anyway, he was brought into a case up in Winnetka when one of Doug’s clients, a kid named Bobby Langley, got all tangled up in some silly crap over rummaging through a north-shore broker’s garbage. Turns out the kid was looking for stuff Jacob could use in his National Enquirer type gossip blog. Anyway, legally it turned out to be a nothing burger but Jacob thought Doug and I were Perry Mason and Paul Drake and his promoting Doug through his network brought in quite a bit of easy legal business.”

  “OK Petris, that explains your association with Gunn and with Jacob, but what about your statement that part of your agreeing to get involved had to do with the relationship between Gunn and me. There never was any personal relationship. Gunn considered himself a Lothario, I wasn’t buying what he was selling.”

  “I knew that there was no personal relationship Keren, but, if you remember, I left Doug’s employ and moved down here. It was about that time that his personal life and his business life came crashing down around his ears. He had converted money from the client’s trust fund and that bought him a complaint to the Attorney’s Registration and Disciplinary Commission of the Illinois Supreme Court.

  Push finally came to shove and in the end it cost him his attorney’s license and I know he stiffed you for a bunch of back rent and filing fees that you had fronted. I felt badly about that because I knew when I left that he would most likely screw up yet I didn’t warn you.

  So, this is my way of maybe trying to pay you back a little. That and the challenge of trying to figure out the mystery of Mr. Maurice Laughlin.”

  “And exactly who the hell is Mr. Maurice Laughlin, Petris?”

  “Keren you sent me an envelope that you had received for safekeeping from Jacob during your dinner at The Little Club. There were three pieces of paper in it.

  Two of them were a copy of what appeared to be an email referring to what seemed to be a clandestine sale of arms and ammunition. The other had the name Maurice Ber
nard Laughlin and some information referencing location and contact numbers. Didn’t you look at that stuff before you shipped it off to me?”

  “No Petris, I never opened it. Jacob gave it to me for safekeeping, ‘just in case’ but we had no professional relationship so I couldn’t claim attorney/client privilege if I looked at the contents. So, after I found out that he was murdered I contacted you and sent the envelope here. I didn’t have much confidence in the investigators up north having had professional contact with them in the past. So, exactly who is Maurice Bernard Laughlin and is this going to be worth your time to get involved?”

  “Well Keren, yes after chasing down the information that started with the envelope it will be well worth my time and your time. First off, let’s start with the two page email print-out.” Opening the first sheet, he read: "This was forwarded to us for your action. Reply by the usual method. PBUH”.

  The second sheet was a bit more detailed: "To arm a small paramilitary group? Say, 20 people?”

  Absolutely, we can accommodate your request, but we need more parameters such as your exact arms needs and destination country.

  It goes on further to enumerate military hardware they can provide, then it continues:

  “We only deal with small arms and equipment, but if you need artillery, MANPADS [Man-portable air-defense systems], ordinance, APCs, Helos we do have resources and can make certain introductions for a fee.”

  “I'm telling this, for you: one single grenade of a thumper costs 50 bitcoins to me: the GL itself will be around 100, to me. My sources aren't an object of discussion, sorry.”