The Storm Maker

by Sid K

  Sayett drove two more hours doing almost ninety-miles per hour on the northern fork of the national road when the defining monument of Gold Harbor came in his view. It was a big, golden arch. However, big does not even begin to describe it, even gigantic would be an understatement. The arch rose hundreds and hundreds of feet in the air and was so wide that the entire sixteen lanes of national road, parted four times, passed underneath it along with a small creek, a multistory building right at the center of it and much empty space to boot. Sayett had seen it many times, but each time the sight did not fail to leave him awestruck.

  Although the size of the arch was spectacular, it was not its most amazing characteristic. Its uniqueness and its grandeur was the gold plating it was covered in. Real gold covered the entirety of the external surface of arch from one side to the other leaving no external spot of any other material. Here, all that glittered in the shining sun was truly gold.

  Not surprisingly then the building at the center of it was the Gold Harbor Town Police headquarters, moved there after the construction of the arch to prevent the damage and theft of the gold plating. Sayett knew of no other city whose central police station was located near its border, but then again he knew of no other city whose most valuable treasure was a gigantic gold plated arch setting out in the public.

  The history of the arch was intricately tied to the town of Gold Harbor as much symbolized it, and gave clue to its original character as the name of the town itself. Located at the very north of the western coast of the Starfire Nation, Gold Harbor was one of the twelve cities with population in millions. In the mountains to its north and northeast, much gold was discovered; so much that not only were Gold Harbor mines the biggest producer of gold in Starfire Nation, they regularly produced near a quarter of entire national production and during its peak year had reached a record forty two percent of nationwide output.

  The golden arch had been financed by the thousands of gold mining companies that had mushroomed and existed before the consolidation, with each owner donating some portion of his production towards the gold plating of the arch.

  The city had grown up to serve the mines with heavy machinery companies sprouting and making the city their headquarters. The industrial output of earth moving and metal smelting machines was no less impressive. But what made Gold Harbor big was its port, now the second biggest on the west coast after the port of Southstar way down.

  Gold mining gave the town its starting impetus, its name and even its significant monument, but it was shipping and trade that made Gold Harbor the big city, drawing Starfirians from around the country to gain employment in dock work, heavy equipment factories and shipbuilding.

  It happened that Starfire Nation was never a big gold using country. Gold was one of the metals used as currency when the national currency was based on metals in the past, but it was significantly lower ranked in use at the fourth place after Copper, Iron and Silver as a currency.

  Starfirian state and its leaders had always taken a dim view of the luxury goods including such as gold and gold jewelry and there were heavy taxes on domestic sale of gold items. Starfirian leaders and philosophers preferred instead that national wealth be invested in productive assets such as infrastructure and industrial companies instead of inert metals. To that end they saw an opportunity to use gold as an export to add to the trade surplus. And thus the Port of Gold Harbor grew focused outward towards the rest of the world, exporting more than ninety percent of its gold production each year.

  The port grew quickly on the back of the gold exports. However, gold had the happy property of commanding high prices for physically small quantities. The gold ships could easily pay enough fees to port owners to keep them in profit at the same time leaving underutilized a significant ship handling capacity. The Gold Harbor port owners took this opportunity to offer massive discounts to west coast shippers up and down the coast, bankrupting their competitor ports all the way down to Southstar, where finally the cost of transportation made Southstar port price competitive with Gold Harbor.

  Presently the city generated much more commerce out of its ports and its shipping than it did out of gold mining, refining and jewelry work; but all of it was built on the back of the shiny yellow metal.

  Sayett drove for another hour, driving slower at around seventy miles per hour as he passed through the city itself, all the way to the other side. Here were the most expensive neighborhoods of Gold Harbor. Here were vast palaces of old mining tycoons, majestic mansions of port and ship owners, big beautiful bungalows of industrialists, all of them facing the ocean and one amongst them was the palatial residence of Duke Ragfelvyk.

  Sayett drove up to the house of Duke. The property itself was shaped as a square surrounded with walls of concrete and one door of blue steel bars, large enough for two cars, located in the center of the front wall facing the ocean view. Sayett pulled up to the gate. There were no guards outside but there were a couple of them inside. They kept their rifles well hidden underneath their coats.

  Sayett knew Duke was a much more social fellow than Mr. Barryvk who was content to live on the outskirts away from most people. Duke on the other hand liked to hobnob with the rich and powerful of Gold Harbor. Thus he did his utmost to conceal his source of wealth. Some of his high class friends probably knew, some others might have suspected, but for his part, he did not give an image of being an intimidating underworld don, but on the contrary was known for his joviality in the parties.

  And thus the concealment of his tough, muscled gunmen behind the walls, away from the sight of the city elites who might take a drive or stroll along the coastal road.

  The two guards walked up to Sayett’s car and asked of his business.

  Sayett showed his badge to the guards and said, “I am from SPASI and I am here to meet Duke Ragfelvyk. However, I am here on a friendly visit, just to talk, no legal matters at all.”

  “Duke is out now, but wait here,” one of the guards said. He walked over to a small guardhouse and returned a couple of minutes later. “His son Dayett Ragfelvyk will see you. Drive up to the car parking on the left side of the house and the guards will escort you to him.”

  They opened the gates for him and Sayett drove inside. Ahead of him was a large, forty-to-fifty room, three story mansion in the center of a sprawling well-maintained lawn. He looked out of his windows to his right and left and saw gunmen with rifles on their shoulders patrolling the length and breadth of the walls from inside. He drove into the parking on the left and got out as two men walked up to him and led him to the back of the mansion. They were not openly carrying guns, but Sayett did not doubt that they were packing pistols.

  There was a big swimming pool in the back. Chairs and tables had been set up all around it but only one set of them was presently occupied. A young man in a swimsuit was wiping water from his slightly surly hair with a towel. A pretty young girl, also in a swimsuit, with long hair and long legs was standing next to him and waiting on him.

  The two men pointed Sayett to the young man and then stood in the distance where they could not hear the conversation but could watch from afar.

  “I will come pick you up tonight,” the man said to the girl.

  She nodded, kissed him and went to a nearby room to change her clothes. Dayett put on a maroon colored bathrobe as Sayett walked up to him. “Welcome, SPASI man. My father isn’t here, but you can drink with me till he comes.”

  “Dayett, I hope I did not interrupt anything,” Sayett said and sat down facing Dayett across the table.

  “Not at all, I had become bored of her girlie banter anyhow,” Dayett laughed. “But how do you know my name?”

  “Happens we have very similar names,” Sayett said, “I am chief detective Sayett. But moreover we know about everyone who works for your father.”

  “What does my file say?” Dayett chuckled.

  “Fortunately we don’t have a file on yourself,” Sayett said. “We know you are a good boy and that you aren�
�t part of your father’s syndicate.”

  “Or you don’t know if I am or not,” Dayett said.

  “Trust me, we know a lot—a lot more than you might think. We know more about even your gardeners and cooks than their own families.” Sayett smiled. “If we don’t have a file on someone, it is because we know they aren’t part of the underworld.”

  “That is good to hear,” Dayett said. “Have some beer by the way.” He pushed a couple of different beer bottles towards Sayett and opened one for himself. Sayett took one of them and emptied it into a tall glass.

  “Now I did not come for this,” Sayett said. “But after your father, you can make a deal with us. You can wind down Ragfelvyk syndicate’s operations under our supervision and we will let you keep a large part of the wealth that Duke has acquired regardless of how he did it.”

  “You don’t have to tell me,” Dayett said. “I have never felt a part of what’s around me. My father has earned a lot of money and he is generous with his men as well. Many could retire in ease and luxury, but it is more the excitement for them of this risqué life and business than the money that keeps them going. I was born in the wrong country; I am a hedonist in a nation of hard men. Tell me, Sayett, do you find your work exciting?”

  Sayett smiled and thought for a second. He took a long gulp of beer.

  “Sure, risk and excitement go hand in hand,” Sayett said. “For me though it has become rather routine because I am a decades-long veteran of this work, but on the other side from your father and his friends. I do like matching my wits with foreign spy masters, that is what I do in SPASI. More than that, our work is our duty to protect the Starfire Nation.”

  “Well, looks like my father is here,” Dayett said nodding over to the parking lot. Sayett turned around and saw a big, fat man in his early sixties dressed in black suit and black pants walking towards them. His suit buttons were unfastened, more likely they could not be fastened as he was not just fat, but obese with a big round stomach. His face, too, was round with a bald, shiny pate.

  “SPASI Man, my men tell me you are here for a friendly talk.” He walked over to them. “I take it you are not from the Counter-Syndicate Division of SPASI.”

  “I am chief detective Sayett of the Counter-Imperial Division,” Sayett said.

  Duke Ragfelvyk let lose a loud laugh. “I hope you don’t believe I have any connections to the Narducat Empire; on the contrary if you need a few of my boys to fight the Nardi’s, I am all for it.”

  “Appreciate the offer,” Sayett laughed, “but happens I have been given a special case outside of my division and I thought you could help me.”

  “Dayett, we have to talk business here,” Duke said.

  “I will be inside.” Dayett got up, waved to Sayett and walked into the house.

  “I have kept my boy out of my business,” Duke said taking his son’s seat. He grabbed a beer bottle, pulled open the cap and started gulping.

  “He is a good boy,” Sayett said, “You should keep it that way.”

  “What did you two talk about?” Duke asked.

  “Don’t worry, I wasn’t fishing around for any conversations of yours he may have overhead,” Sayett chuckled. “I just told him, that SPASI can make him a deal after you. Keep a lot of the wealth, enjoy his life in peace.”

  “I still got a good ten years left in me,” Duke laughed. “But you are right about my son. My best man...do you know who it is?”

  “Saltvyk?” Sayett asked. That was the name of Duke’s most feared hitman.

  “I adopted Saltvyk when he was eight years old,” Duke said. “Both of his parents died in the car crash and he was my son’s best friend. I raised him as my own; whatever opportunities and rewards I offered my son, I offered to him as well. He turned out to be much more like us: hard, quiet, grim, cold. My own son, on the other hand, prefers luxuries and finer things in life. Saltvyk can take on Shotgun Syk, but I worry my son is no match for Black Star.”

  Sayett did not say anything. He focused on finishing his beer, the more the Duke talked, the better it was.

  “So what is this help that you need?” Duke asked, “and what would be in it for me?”

  “The bank robberies over the last few months,” Sayett said. “I am looking for any information that you might have. As one of the top two underworld bosses, there are things you hear that even we at SPASI don’t. Let me hear anything about those bank robberies.”

  “Did you investigate Barryvk the buffoon? That old coot has gone senile,” Duke said half-jokingly. “I hear he rants about random matters to folks.”

  “Mr. Ragfelvyk, please do not attempt to use us to take care of your enemy. I have already met Mr. Barryvk, and he was talking properly. Earlier you had asked me, what was in it for you. I have to tell you there is a lot of political power behind this case, if we don’t solve it, SPASI will have to turn the entire underworld upside down. Many skeletons will fall out, even those not related to these bank robbers.”

  “I suppose you are right,” Duke said, “Even Barryvk the bozo wouldn’t attempt daylight bank robberies with automatic rifles. Anyhow, we have not been stepping on each other’s toes for a few years now and stay in our own territories. I hate to disappoint you, however; we have had no dealings with anybody that I remotely suspect to be part of this bank robbing syndicate.”

  “I didn’t think you did,” Sayett said.

  “That’s right,” Duke said. “I am mad about those bastards as well. Let them come into Gold Harbor and try to rob a bank here, my boys will be there before the police even get off their chairs, and do them in right then and there.”

  “I would appreciate if you would just ask around your extensive contacts,” Sayett said. “The bank robbers appear to be foreigners. They would need help from folks to set themselves up in this country. Shady folks who can provide cash, cars, automatics and hideouts. Folks that are known to you.”

  “Hmm…” Duke caressed his chin for a few moments. “So far I have heard of nothing. But I will tell you what; I will send Saltvyk himself to ask around. Those shady folks quake at the thought of him showing up at their place. But you have got to give me time for him to go around and shake a few words out of them.”

  “Call me at SPASI,” Sayett said. “Ask for Sayett.”

  Sayett took his leave and went to his car. As he drove out of Duke’s estate he felt much more confident about solving this case. Between Mr. Barryvk and Duke Ragfelvyk, they knew almost all the happenings in the Starfire underworld. Now he decided to get back to the headquarters. He was eager to find out what further progress his detectives had made while he was out on the road. With that thought, he accelerated on to the national road leading to the King Starryvk City.

  chapter 9 – hitman and enforcer

  Red Beach was a small town a couple hours drive south of Gold Harbor right along the western coast with approximately twenty thousand residents. It was a town that was popular with tourists and beach goers. Far away from the bustle of commercial shipping around Gold Harbor, the beaches of Red Beach provided a quiet, serene, even secluded relaxation for visitors and vacationers. Its half a dozen streets that led to the beach and the coast were dotted with seafood restaurants, taverns, small shops, fishing and boating supplies stores and lodges and inns. The crowds strolled these streets well into the night and many ate and drank in public from the food cars that served the beaches with refreshments, drinks and even whole meals.

  Tucked away in the middle of one of the streets was Fogyett’s Dance Night: a restaurant plus dance bar serving expensive fare and live dance music most nights. It was an upscale place; however most of its patrons would not have guessed that it was also a front for a small casino that its owner Fogyett ran from a hidden room inside. The music bands passed around their hats for donations after their songs and this allowed an opportunity for Fogyett to wash his earnings from the gambling racket into his restaurant business and thus legitimize it. Fogyett was a small time operator with eleven gu
nmen on his pay and two other secret gambling dens. The other two were located roadside north and south of Red Beach, and catered to truckers, salesmen and such and generated small sums for him. This was his main operation where wealthy tourists and townsfolk alike gambled with larger sums. His waiters would discretely inquire into the habits of the tourists and those whom they found interested would be quietly directed to the hidden casino room inside.

  As the sun was setting, the queue was growing outside Fogyett’s Dance Night. The food and music was quite good and Fogyett subsidized it out of his gambling revenue to attract an affluent clientele. Two cars drove up from the opposite sides and parked along the curb. Two men got out of each and they walked towards this restaurant, meeting at the front door.

  The first one walking in front was a young man wearing sunglasses and a dark blue jacket over blue pants, his hair was parted down the middle and combed both ways. He was the infamous hitman Saltvyk: Duke Ragfelvyk’s adopted son and his best soldier. The other three with him were older men, big and muscular, dressed in brown or gray suits, and loyal gunmen of Duke.

  They sidestepped the queue all together and approached the door from the front to where a tall and strong looking man stood outside the door. He folded his hands and stepped in front of them.

  “You can’t just walk in here, you have to stand in the line,” he said.

  “Ragfelvyk’s men don’t stand in line,” Saltvyk said adjusting his sunglasses.

  The door guard was taken aback. He looked at all four of them. The three men behind Saltvyk were even bigger and more muscular than himself and looked as intimidating with their sly smiles.

  “Go on then,” he said standing back.

  “You wait outside for us,” Saltvyk said to a man dressed in a brown suit who stood besides the door guard. The remaining three walked inside.

  It was dim inside. Most of the light came from the lit stage on the other side of a large room where a band was playing music. Tables were arranged from the door to the stage, with an empty area in between for dancing. The patrons and a few people were there swaying to the music. Tables were lit by candlelight, otherwise it was hard to see more than a few paces ahead.