Dig Two Graves: Revenge or Honor

by Nick Vellis

  “The jewelry was dismantled, gold and silver melted down into bars, and the less portable items such as art and antique furniture, were sold. Being the greedy bastard he was, Dorn wanted to keep the ransom. Some say it was taken by train to Thessaloniki, others that he loaded crates of treasure on a ship, and had it sunk in the Adriatic. There are reports it was moved by truck. Still other reports say he had his fortune crated and shipped back to Germany by train,” he said, pointing his long index finger at the gleaming object on the coffee table before him. “No one knows what happened to the ransom. That is what history has recorded, but there is much more to the story.” Ceres yawned and stretched his neck from side to side, feigning fatigue. He watched AJ closely trying to divine the depth of the corruption behind those flashing dark eyes.

  “Following the war,” he continued, “and the Greek Civil War, Dorn came back to Greece, supposedly to recover the ransom, but a camp survivor recognized him, and the Greek authorities arrested him. He was convicted and sentenced to prison, but died without revealing where the treasure was hidden.”

  “Where is this treasure now?” AJ blurted out, unable to contain himself. “Where did that gold bar come from?” AJ was breathless thinking of the possibilities and looking at the piece of gold on the table in front of him.

  “I am afraid I am most tired Ajax,” Ceres said, finally making an excuse. He would have to decide what to do. “We could talk all night, but there would be more. I will explain that part tomorrow, but now I need to sleep,” Ceres said, seeing the depth of the avarice in his companion’s eyes.

  “But what happened?” AJ nearly shouted, unable to contain his excitement.

  “I will give you the details tomorrow, but part of the ransom and your grandfather disappeared. Now I must go to bed. I’m too old to stay up this late.”

  AJ was ready to explode. He’d listened to the old man’s version of History 101 and had gotten no useful information. Now the old fool wanted to go to bed! AJ closed his eyes to pull himself together. He had to keep the goal in mind.

  “Certainly. I’m sorry Ceres. I’m a poor host,” he said. “It’s after midnight. We’ve had a big day together. The first of many, I hope. Come on. Let’s get you fixed up for the night.”

  “Do you have a place to put that?” Ceres said, pointing to the fragment of gold.

  “Yes, I have a safe. Come watch me lock it up,” AJ responded.

  Once the gold bar was secured AJ turned down the bed in his guest suite for Ceres and said good night. AJ quickly got into bed himself, but sleep eluded him. He lay in bed staring at the light from the pool flickering on the ceiling. AJ tried to imagine what it would be like having not millions, but billions of dollars. Homes around the world, yachts, planes, and helicopters, he would need a couple helicopters, and the women! There would be assistants, and chefs, secretaries, accountants, and lawyers. Maybe he’d even give that prissy little bitch Carol Bailey a job. He’d never have to represent slime like the damn criminal defendants he had accumulated, though as he thought about it, some of their skills and employees might come in handy from time to time. He could build an immense, self-sustaining business, and live like a sultan on the profits. Best of all, he’d finally show his father. He would prove to his father that he could be a success.

  The piece of gold had a disturbing effect on AJ. He couldn’t get it out of his head. His grandfather, no doubt an idealist like his father, perhaps died helping a bunch of worthless refugees. Then the army repaid him with the hint he had deserted and stole the missing fortune. That must be the meaning of the status - MIA, Probable Desertion. His father foolishly had died trying to clear the family name. What a wasted, useless effort when there was a billion dollars out there, maybe two, just waiting to be found, for him to find. AJ had quickly realized Ceres must be an idealist, too. He had kept quiet for decades, though why was not clear. Most importantly, he very likely knew where the treasure was stashed. AJ would have to be cautious. He had to be sure not to burn any bridges too soon, and to handle the old man carefully. Lulled by visions of burning bridges and helicopters, AJ finally drifted off to sleep.

  “Morning, Ceres, you sleep well?” AJ said as Ceres emerged from the guestroom.

  “Yes, thank you, but my old bones are stiff.” Ceres paused to gather his thoughts. Had he said too much?

  “Last night, you asked about your grandfather. I delayed telling you because I did not know what to say. Can you give me more time to think of how to tell you?”

  “Sure. When you’re ready,” AJ replied, trying to be sure he won the old man over, but he was burning inside.

  “Ajax, what have you decided?” Ceres said, having decided to test the young man.

  “Decided? I don’t understand?” AJ replied. “What do you mean?”

  “I mean, what will you do? Will you take up your father’s search, or is it just a treasure hunt for you? I see how you look at that gold. I was wrong to show it to you.”

  “No, not wrong Ceres. I just don’t know what to think. For the time being it looks like the two things are one and the same, wouldn’t you say?” AJ replied.

  “You haven’t told me how my grandfather connects to this yet. The documents are circumstantial evidence, but of what I’m not sure.”

  Ceres smiled broadly, and shook his head. “No Ajax, only one thing is important. You must regain your family’s honor. In doing this, you will learn who killed your father, and who is responsible for so much evil. I’ve tried several times to learn what happened to Lieutenant John, but failed. With your father, I saw an opportunity to succeed, but his death ended that hope. Now I turn to you.”

  “Ceres, I don’t believe in evil, but I do want to know who killed my father,” AJ said, as he started the coffee. Tread carefully AJ, he thought. “I think his death is linked to his research, and the things my grandfather did. How about you?”

  “I’m not sure Ajax, but I don’t believe in coincidence. How will you begin your search?”

  “Well, I think I should go to Greece. I’m not sure other than that. If it was here in Miami or even in South American I would call one of my private investigators.”

  “Call one of these people.”

  “It’s not that simple. I don’t know anyone who works in Europe, and I don’t want my usual people to know about this.” One of them could be involved with my father’s death. AJ shuddered at the thought of his less than savory clientele catching wind of a fortune of this magnitude.

  “Do you know someone who knows someone?”

  AJ smacked his forehead. How could he be such a dud? Of course, he knew someone. AJ patted Ceres’ arm as he put a cup of coffee on the table in front of him. “Yes, my new-found genius of a friend, I do.”

  It took three phone calls to reach Major Robert Echols at the Miami Dade Police Department. Echols, who commanded the department’s Antiterrorism Division, had contacts worldwide. AJ was looking for someone special, someone with Eastern European or Balkan connections but no direct government ties.

  “I’m doing some genealogical research for a client,” AJ said. “I want someone with solid contacts.”

  AJ gave his former client enough information to find the right person, without giving away the true goal. Echols owed AJ, who had helped the high-ranking Miami cop out of a string of compromising situations with no fallout, no publicity and most importantly, no bill. AJ liked to be owed favors.

  When Echols called back three hours later, AJ was nearly set. He already had airline and hotel information for Greece. All he needed was the departure and arrival dates. He had arranged with his boss, Emiliano, to take some extended time off. He had opened a bank account in Athens and transferred a hefty sum for expenses. So when the phone rang AJ was mentally prepared to move forward.

  “Hi AJ, this is Echols. I’ve got a couple contacts numbers for you, but AJ… This isn’t going to get back to anyone is it?” Echols said, more than a hint of tension in his voice.

  “No Bob, I’m still y
our lawyer. You’re safe. Didn’t you see the movie The Firm? I’m a ship forever at sea with your secrets.”

  “What? Well, ah, thanks.”

  “Bob, the information?” AJ said, growing impatient.

  “There are two firms recommended for issues in Eastern Europe. RMS Services is Romanian, headquartered in Bucharest. A couple former Securitate directors run it.”

  “Securitate?” AJ asked.

  “The old Ceausescu-era secret police, they’re very well connected and discrete. They work throughout the region. You didn’t say which country would be involved.”

  “No, I didn’t,” AJ said. “That sounds too closely connected. I don’t want government interference,” Or governments knowing what I’m doing, AJ thought. “Give me the information Bob?” AJ wrote down the name and contact number. “Who else have you got?”

  “The other one’s much smaller, but very trustworthy.”

  “Bob, get on with it.” AJ was getting irritated. It shouldn’t be this difficult.

  “Word is they are trustworthy.”

  “OK, I get it, trustworthy. Who is it?”

  “G. Donatella in Milan.”

  “That’s all? No company name.”

  “That’s it. G. Donatella, an address in Milan and phone number. They have close ties to Guardia di Finanza, the Italian economic crimes agency, and to Europol’s Criminal Intel Division.

  AJ wanted something more specific to Greece, but didn’t want to give anything away, so he asked, “Any others Bob?”

  “Well, my contact at Interpol mentioned a guy in Athens, but he says he’s not the most reliable,” Echols said.

  AJ refrained from patting himself on the back. “Well, give me the information, and if the first two don’t work out, I can fall back on this guy. Who is it?” AJ said.

  “Spiro Dranias, Athens.”

  “OK, give me the contact info.”

  AJ jotted down the information, and when he was sure he had all he needed, he said, “Thank you I appreciate the information, and Bob, forget we ever spoke. OK?”

  Sounding relieved, Echols responded, “Spoke to who?”

  “That’s right, Bob, you’re a ship forever at sea with my secrets.”

  AJ had three names. The least attractive was in Athens but that was where he was headed. AJ typed the information into the note section into his iPhone and called Athens. He reached an answering machine where he left a message with his cell number asking Spiro Dranias to call immediately on matter of some urgency.

  AJ immediately got on his laptop. He used a travel website to make business class reservations for Athens for the next day. He was surprised to find several airlines flew to Athens from Charlotte. He made early morning reservations for Miami, Charlotte, Athens. It would take twenty hours, but he would arrive in Athens at the start of the business day. With luck, he could meet with Dranias sometime that first day. AJ booked a room at the Athens Metro hotel, allegedly within walking distance to the Acropolis.

  Ceres had watched all this activity with bemused, but silent patience. He watched AJ sit back, arms stretched across the back of the couch, satisfied everything he needed was in place. Ceres, who had enjoyed his front row seat to AJ’s flurry of activity, slowly stood, and as he left the room casually called over his shoulder, “Good luck finding out anything without your source of information,” Ceres said pointing at his own head.

  AJ called out to him, “Wait, you want to go? I thought you said you didn’t travel well.”

  CHAPTER 8

  The argument about going to Greece was brief. AJ gave in quickly since he didn’t want to alienate Ceres. He needed him. Their Miami-to-Charlotte flight was routine. Ceres liked the white high back rockers in the Charlotte airport’s main concourse, but he loved the US Air Club room. Snacks, tea, and seating seemed like home, but he was really taken by the quiet, the respite from the noisy concourses. Their three-hour layover gave the two men time to continue sizing each other up. AJ was able to switch seats to sit with Ceres for their flight to Athens. He figured if they were going to be in the air for sixteen hours he surely could learn something from the old man. Once they were airborne, Ceres began talking excitedly about returning to Greece. It had been ten years since his last trip. This one could be his last visit.

  “I grew up in the hills of the north. It’s mountainous country, not many people. The Germans and some collaborators killed my family and burned my village. I went with the Andartes and met your grandfather. He helped me escape Greece. After the Germans left in December 1944, the different resistance groups fought each other until civil war broke out in 1946. I left before that, though. I came to America with only the clothes I was wearing, and the English I learned from your grandfather.”

  “And that piece of gold you showed me,” AJ responded.

  “Yes, I had that too. The brother of a man from my village took me in. His name was Andrew Papandreou. Mr. Andrew, as I called him, gave me a new life,” Ceres said.

  “Where is he now?” AJ asked.

  “He and his wife died years ago. They had three children. Two of them died, but I still write to Georgia, my last American sister. She is all the family I have left.”

  “From the little you have told me, maybe we should consider each other family,” AJ said, his own family gone.

  “I was beginning to feel that way about your father,” Ceres replied. “Perhaps we should.”

  “Tell me about my grandfather and why you think there’s a connection to my father’s murder?” AJ said.

  “It’s complicated Ajax. I don’t have the full … what is the term? I don’t have the full picture,” Ceres said.

  AJ was impatient, as always, with the old Greek’s stalling.

  What was he hiding? He squirmed in his seat like a six year old. Patience, he reminded himself, was an old ally. He would take his time, as he did in the courtroom. He needed to take his time.

  “Andreas was curious about his father,” Ceres continued, “who he was, what he did in the war, what could have happened to him? He hunted for friends and relatives, searched through the National Archives in Washington, military records, and even church records, looking for answers – clues to what happened.”

  “Clues? The safe deposit box didn’t have any clues,” AJ said.

  “We shall see,” Ceres responded, still cautious about trusting the young man too soon. “I was with Lieutenant John, your grandfather, for several months during the war, but there were things I didn’t see. He was reported killed but …When he disappeared part of the ransom disappeared too. His men had no choice but to believe he had stolen it and abandoned them. But Ajax that is not the man I knew, even though I was just a small boy.”

  “So what really happened?”

  Ceres leaned back in his seat and gazed out the plane’s window. “Lieutenant John and his men stopped a train carrying the ransom, and some Jewish prisoners. They ambushed and killed the guards. They freed the prisoners and took the ransom. Lieutenant John planned to force the Germans to release all the Jews they held in the North. Your grandfather called it ransoming the ransom. He got a group of Greek traitors to help him and I think he trusted the wrong man.”

  Ceres’ voice trailed away, and, lost in sad memories, he turned to stare out into the darkness. Overcome by exhaustion and sadness, he fell silent, and then into a fitful sleep.

  AJ waited until Ceres began to snore then took out his iPhone. He added to the copious notes he had made previously and wracked his brain for any crumb he could recall Ceres had left.

  When they landed in Athens, AJ turned on his cell phone. He had a message from Spiro Dranias. AJ punched the recall button, and the phone at the other end answered on the third ring.

  “Yassou, Dranias Investigations.”

  “Mr. Dranias, I left you a message. Are you available?

  “Ναί, ah yes. You would prefer English, to speak?”

  “Yes, English would be best. Are you available?”

  “For
what sort of work are you looking?”

  “We should meet to discuss that. I am just arriving in Athens. Can we meet this afternoon? I am at the Metro Hotel.”

  “Ah, the Metro, yes, we can meet there if you like. Would three o’clock be convenient, in the bar?”

  “Yes the bar, fine.”

  “Very good,” Dranias said, as AJ hit end.

  “That was foolish Ajax,” Ceres scolded. “You should not have told that man where we are staying. He could arrange to rob us, or worse. At best, since it’s a tourist hotel, now he will charge you more. Greece is different from America. You must be more careful.”

  “Ok, but geez, lighten up. Don’t be so paranoid,” AJ replied, trying to hide his annoyance. He didn’t like the old man bossing him around. “He has no way of knowing what I want, and I’m only going to give him a list of names,” AJ continued. “There’s one other thing. Please call me AJ. My father and even my mother only called me Ajax when they were angry with me.”

  The taxi ride to the hotel was a white-knuckle experience. Traffic, speed, screaming drivers, and the ancient vehicle’s groans and rattles conspired to keep AJ’s heart in his throat throughout the forty-minute ride. Ceres, on the other hand, took in the sense of the city, asking the driver a constant stream of questions in Greek.

  When the taxi arrived at the hotel, AJ leapt out, unable to stand the terrifying vehicle a moment longer. When he looked up at the hotel and he was disappointed to see a tired, seven-story building. Ranks of AC wall units jutted from the stucco, their condensation staining nearly every visible surface. Battered balconies on each level hinted at one for each room.

  AJ was never so glad to arrive at such uninviting place. Only the rose-colored bougainvillea reaching to the roof prevented the place from being the incarnation of some wicked witch’s castle. The huge colorful plant’s hot honeysuckle scent was overpowering.

  While AJ assessed the hotel’s architecture, Ceres was cementing his relationship with their driver. They parted with a big backslapping hug, and Ceres joined AJ in the frontcourt.