A Dubious Terrain (A Colton Banyon Mystery Book 4)

by Gerald J Kubicki

  A Dubious Terrain

  Gerald J Kubicki

  A Colton Banyon Mystery #4

  Other Books by Gerald J. Kubicki

  A Dubious Mission #1

  A Dubious Secret #2

  A Dubious Dream #3

  A Dubious Terrain #4

  A Dubious Plan #5

  A Dubious Artifact #6

  Books by Gerald J. Kubicki & Kristopher Kubicki

  A Dubious Position #7

  A Dubious Curse #8

  A Dubious Crime #9

  A Dubious Device #10

  A Dubious Race # 11

  The Society of Orion Series

  The Weapons #1

  The Recovery #2

  The Deception #3

  The Orion Codex #4

  The Tayos Caves #5

  License Note

  This ebook is for your personal enjoyment.

  It may not be re-sold.

  A Dubious Terrain

  Colton Banyon Mystery #4

  Published by Gerald J. Kubicki

  Copyright ©2015 by Gerald J. Kubicki

  All rights reserved

  Prologue

  It was fine warm, spring day in 1933. The German people were full of optimism, but also had great concerns. The optimism came from a fiery political orator named Adolf Hitler. He spoke of nationalism, controlling the countries destiny and a return to world prominence that had been stripped from the country at the end of World War I. The concern was that Germany was very weak with weaker leadership and the German people were barely surviving from the long and deep depression that had consumed not only Germany, but the entire world.

  Hitler controlled the nationalist political splinter group known as the Nazis. His rise as a power in the German political scene had not been meteoric, but he did have a foothold in the government and had been named Chancellor in January of that year. He immediately began consolidating his position and named himself dictator. His main supporters were fanatical and believed that Hitler was a god, he liked it that way.

  And that was the reason for the meeting. There were nineteen young men seated around the long table in a mansion just outside the city of Berlin. The meeting had been scheduled three months earlier so that everyone could prepare. None of the young men wore the now highly recognizable uniform of the Nazi party. In fact they were all in well-fitting suits, with their hair slicked back. Not one of them was a Nazi. On purpose, none of them had name tags instead number cards were placed in front of each man.

  The nineteen well-scrubbed young men were some of Germany’s best planners. They had been recruited by the head of the ‘Minster of Propaganda’ for a specific task. They were charged with inventing a new religion for Germany. It would be called “National Socialism” and Hitler would be the god all people would worship. Each man had been charged with bringing ideas to achieve the goal. Each man had their complete report, copied in triplicate, stacked in front of them. They now sat, waiting in anticipation, for the entrance of their leader.

  Joseph Goebbels had his chauffer drop him right in front of the mansion. He wanted to make a grand entrance and impress his minions. He was fashionably late. He never wore anything but the best in quality suits and was rarely photographed in a uniform. Goebbels was a short and slight build man who frightened no one. He walked with a limp from having one leg that was shorter than the other. He was not an imposing man and had worked his way up the Nazi hierarchy by promoting brilliant ideas to the leader. Some of Hitler’s other henchmen didn’t like him, but everyone agreed Goebbels possessed keen intelligence and was truly one of Hitler’s fanatics. More than anything he hated the Jews.

  Goebbels saw himself as the protector of culture in Germany. He was in fact a snob. He had a Ph.D. from Heidelberg University in of all things — drama. He fancied himself as the cultural backbone of Germany and his policies and actions in later years reflected his desire to influence all art with his beliefs. He, like Hitler, loved the operas of Wagner.

  The fact that he was a dramatist suited him well for his position in the Third Reich. Next to Hitler, Goebbels was the second greatest orator in Germany. Under pressure, he was calm and focused. He was a good actor.

  ***

  The men at the meeting could now hear Goebbels limping up the marble hallway. He threw open the double wooded doors and entered the meeting with a flourish. There were two burley bodyguards trailing behind. They closed the doors and stood at attention. He did not greet anyone, but rather looked straight ahead at the small podium and set off to capture it, while discarding his coat and hat on an empty chair near the back of the room.

  When he was settled at the podium, he looked out at the men around the table. All eyes were on him, just as he wanted. You could hear a pin drop in the big room. He slowly viewed each man individually as he went around the room. His expression never changed. He had told everyone to be prepared or else.

  Goebbels was a master at propaganda. Decades after the war, many studied his principles and changed the name to marketing. He was good at marketing Nazism. He glorified the cause in the best light, sometimes he even made up what he called the truth. The men in the room were charged with marketing a new religion. It would be his greatest achievement.

  “My friends,” he started out in barely a whisper. “Our challenge is to bring about one of the most dramatic changes to how people think in the history of mankind. We are charged with solidifying the existence of Third Reich for a thousand years.”

  He paused for effect and everyone cheered, some jumped to their feet and saluted.

  “National Socialism shall be the foundation for all who believe and will be the most popular religion in not only Germany, but throughout the world when we are done.”

  Again there were loud cheers.

  “Our goal is to establish a religion that can take hold in as far away a place as America. We have many supporters there.” Goebbels paused to let the statement sink in to his charges. As he surveyed the room, he recognized he had their attention at the level that was needed. He then pounded his fist and projected the voice of a much larger man.

  “The fuhrer demands it, I demand it and the citizens of our country demand it. You,” he pointed out to the end of the room, “are the planners of our new religion. Make me proud.”

  Everyone at the table stood up and gave the Nazi salute. “Sieg Heil,” all said in unison. There was immediate enthusiasm in the room. It was like a switch had been turned on. Goebbels watched from the podium and a small smile formed on his thin lips. This is almost too easy, he thought. People were meant to be manipulated, they were puppets, he thought, and he was the puppeteer. He settled them down with a hand gesture.

  “So let’s get down to business,” he spoke in a charming tone while he rubbed his hands in anticipation. “My guards will collect two copies of your reports. One is for me to read and the other will be read by the fuhrer himself.” The men looked at each other in astonishment. Hitler only bothered with matters of the state and to think he would take the time to read each of their reports was a thrill of a lifetime.

  “But, I want to hear your ideas first,” Goebbels continued. “I want each of you to expand on your best idea for promoting our new religion. Let’s start with number four.” Goebbels pointed directly at the man. He quickly stood up ramrod straight and started.

  “Herr Goebbels, I believe if you want to control a society and implement a new religion, we must start with the children. I propose that once they reach a certain age they should be required to join an organization that teachers National Socialism. I know we already have such a movement, but this one would be mandat
ory for all children.”

  “Good number four,” Goebbels complimented him. “Do you have a name for such an organization?’

  “Yes, sir. We should call it what it is, ‘The youth movement’.”

  “And at what age should the youth begin training?” Goebbels asked the question like he already knew the answer.

  “I see two age brackets for the boys and one for the girls. We should also include Hitler training in school from the first year. The first bracket would include the boys from ages 10-14. A more military group including the ages of 14-18 would promise more men for the military as well. The girls would belong to the ‘League of German Girls’ and would be taught how to become mothers and increase the population. It will be their job to serve the men of Germany.”

  “I too agree that we must start with educating the pliable children about our new religion,” Goebbels added as a wrap up. “You may sit now.”

  “Thank you, sir,” the young man replied.

  “What have you got number 12?”

  “I concentrated on the adult population sir. I think that we need to keep the symbols of the new religion in front of the people as much as possible. We need to have parades, movies, media broadcasts and holidays in the name of the religion. Every ceremony should have huge numbers of people and reminders like large flags blowing in the breeze. We want the populous to remember the events as pleasurable and exciting. Perhaps party members could supplant current officials at rituals and take over baptizing babies or performing the marriage ritual.”

  “I think that you are on to something there, number twelve,” Goebbels pointed to the man to sit down. He was quiet for a minute, he then asked a question. “Has anyone addressed the children that attend our schools?”

  A man raised his hand. “I have sir.” It was number seven.

  “Go ahead,” Goebbels said with a wave of his hand.

  “I think that we can capture the hearts of very young children if we teach them a simple poem,” he explained.

  “Have you written such a poem?” Goebbels asked.

  “I have, sir.”

  “Well let’s hear it.”

  The man looked down at his notes and then started:

  “Leader, my Leader, given to me by God, protect me and sustain my life for a long time.

  You have rescued Germany out of deepest misery, to you I owe my daily bread.

  Leader, my Leader, my belief, my light.

  Leader my Leader, do not abandon me.”

  “Bravo, number seven, I believe that you are on to something there too. Making people dependent on the state is good. Hitler is the state. The poem has a logical ring to it,” Goebbels added. He struck a pensive pose for the men.

  A hand rose from the corner of the table. “Yes, number 6,” Goebbels knew that he was one of the brightest young men in the room.

  “History suggests that we should take control of children from birth. That’s the best and fastest way to build a religion.”

  “What are you suggesting?” an interested Goebbels asked.

  “The state should takeover rearing a child from birth. We could provide medical, educational and philosophical training and ensure that they remain loyal to Hitler.”

  “I have already discussed such a plan with Adolf,” Goebbels said. He wanted to make it clear that he was the brightest person in the room. “I would like to meet with you next week at my office to solidify the plan. Make it Tuesday at noon.”

  “Yes sir,” the man enthusiastically responded. He then looked at the others at the table like they did not count.

  Suddenly another hand rose from the table. “Yes, number 10.”

  “Sir, these plans can only work if we can eliminate all distractions.”

  “Go on.”

  “In other words, there can be no other youth organizations available for the children. They must eat, breathe and sleep with the National Socialism movement. We must train them to listen only to their new messiah, Adolf Hitler.”

  “What about their parents?”

  “If their parents attempt to teach them otherwise, we must make the children believe they should report them as traitors.”

  “And the parents?” Goebbels questioned. “How do we change them?”

  “We need to establish our own church. Just as Martin Luther broke away from the Catholic Church hundreds of years ago and formed his own church. Hitler can announce that belonging to the new church suggests loyalty. People will attend if they believe it is right.”

  “And what would we call this new church?”

  “The ‘National Reich Church’, sir. Several government officials have already been working on the doctrines for some time.”

  “Really,” Goebbels acted surprised. He, of course, knew about the church, it was his plan from the beginning.

  “We have put together a thirty point program for your review.”

  “Tell me some of the doctrines?” Goebbels asked with fake curiosity.

  “I’ll give you five, the rest are in my report:

  The National Reich Church will have control over all churches regardless of domination

  We will eliminate all foreign born churches

  We will ban the bible

  No saints or crucifixes will be allowed

  Only the new bible Mien Kampf and a sword will be allowed on the altar.”

  Goebbels pondered the doctrines for a minute before he spoke. “The vast majority of Germans are Christian. Some of these ideals strike deep into their current religion. It will take some time to wean people away from their comfortable religion.”

  “People just want something to believe in,” the man quickly countered. “History shows that the masses have changed religions before.”

  “Should we have collection plates?” Goebbels had timed his question perfectly.

  “All people should tithe at least ten percent of their income,” number six spoke. Good, and most of the money will go into my pocket, Goebbels thought.

  “Do you have a plan?” Goebbels softly asked.

  “We should eliminate as many Christian clergy as possible and close the churches immediately. Then people would have nowhere else to go” number ten continued.

  “Maybe we should use a little persuasion.” Number six spoke up. “All religions have a basis of fear. Let’s use that concept.”

  Misunderstanding what the man said, Goebbels offered a lecherous smile. “Make no mistake, fear will be offered.”

  “We can’t scare people to quit their religion. That has been tried unsuccessfully before,” number six said.

  “I might have even a better idea,” Goebbels offered.

  “What is that, sir?”

  “I believe that we should target one religion and eradicate it. Our countrymen will get the picture pretty quickly,” Goebbels said.

  “What religion would that be?”

  “Well, let’s start with the Jews.”

  ***

  By the time that Goebbels left the meeting, the men were frantic to start implementing the plan for the new religion. As he sashayed out the large mansion, Goebbels was pleased. He couldn’t wait to tell Hitler the good news. Hitler had questioned the idea of a meeting about the new religion.

  “Why, have a meeting about something that you have already implemented?” Hitler roared when Goebbels told him his plan.

  “My dear Adolf,” Goebbels replied in his soft voice. “Every religion needs Apostles. These men will be ours.”

  Part One

  The Set Up

  Chapter One

  Colton Banyon sat at his desk in his manly home office at the front of his sprawling ranch house in suburban Chicago. It was midmorning. This was his fun time. He could check his portfolio, catch up on his New York sports teams, and surf the net. Today he was planning a vacation to someplace warm. Despite the warming sun that filtered through the large front window of his office, the temperature outside was a cold nineteen degrees. It was a drawback for living in Chicago
in April.

  His desk faced the double doors to his office, and he noticed that one door was slowly opening. Suddenly a small, but very shapely bare leg filled the space. Banyon took off his reading glasses and sat back for the show.

  The Asian woman who owned the leg was fifteen years his junior and was in tremendous physical shape. She had remarkable genes. She could easily pass for twenty-five. She also loved to flirt with Banyon. Loni Chen had become his lover and partner in solving mysteries when, as an agent for the FBI, she had helped him fight off a group of white supremacists. They had started as friends and had put together a small detective agency a few years ago. Things had changed. She was the president, and he was the financial backer. Their record for solving mysteries was very good.

  Long jet-black hair soon followed the leg into the room. Banyon could now see a single dark, almond-shaped eye peering at him. “Are you busy?” she asked in a soft singsong voice.

  “I’m always busy,” he playfully responded, knowing that it would not stop her.

  “Too busy to look at me in my new bathing suit?”

  “Give me a minute to respond to this important junk mail,” he answered, also knowing it wouldn’t stop her for one second.

  The door flew open, and she stood with her hands on her small hips. “What do you think?” she seductively inquired.

  Her bathing suit, like its owner, was small and sexy. Banyon immediately felt a stirring, but he knew she wanted him to play the game. “I have more cloth in a pair of my socks,” he quipped.

  “Does that mean that you like it or not?”

  Hearing the disappointment in her voice, he quickly asked, “Does it cover the tattoo?” She had impulsively gotten the tattoo during an investigation of a white supremacist group that used a tattoo pallor as their headquarters. While it was the symbol of her name in Chinese, it was where the tattoo was located that revealed her truly impulsive nature.

  “You just want to look at my ass,” she giggled.

  “And what man wouldn’t?”