Billionaire Devils Club-Palm Beach

by Ashley Woods

  Karl then twiddled the stem of the former member’s carnation in his hand, “What about the other one? The feisty one that just caused me all the problems in London?”

  He paused and then chuckled, “The one who will now be the recipient of this boutonniere from Max.”

  They replied, “He understands and is now ready.”

  “That is very good to hear. He doesn’t realize exactly how much he owes to me. As you all know, the only reason that I am elevating him tonight to the Black Veil, from his new regular club membership, is because we both have a common interest. And like all my enemies, I need to keep tabs on him."

  Karl paused, “I seriously do not appreciate how Fiore callously left my Heathrow man doubled up in an airport rubbish bin. I know it was self-defense, but the poor chap’s mother won’t even be able to recognize him in his box. Overkill, I might say.”

  Karl knew exactly how his employee met his quick end but would not let the three men in on it. It seems that his other assistants in London were a bit over zealous doling out their displeasure with the newer employee after he failed to detain Anthony.

  Harris said, “I helped hire him. He was a nice fellow, it is such a shame. Perhaps, you should tell Miss Kenworth about it, and she will be more cognizant of the poor choice that she is making. His whole family are known killers, not sure those are the type of in-laws that she deserves.”

  Hart laughed, “At least we know he will fit right in with the Veil. We don’t even need to give him the special training, or conditioning needed to withstand the rituals.”

  Karl stood up and snapped his fingers. The women threw themselves up toward him, rubbing on his arms and nuzzling his neck. Karl slid his hands down their backs and grinned,

  “Ladies, please go upstairs to our suite for some appetizers. I will join you there shortly.” The women gave Karl a small sigh, and then sauntered off.

  Once the room was emptied, Karl’s acquaintances pushed their chairs closer to him. One of the men reached behind the couch and began pulling out three large suitcases.

  Karl spoke, “I am glad that you were able to bring these with you for our meeting.” Karl skillfully reached his hands over each end and unclasped the locks.

  Two cases clicked open to reveal that they were packed to the brim with large denomination bills. The other was laden with gold coins.

  “These should easily get through customs tomorrow. It is never a problem with my men stationed at the airports.”

  Hicks reported, “The rest is being placed on a container vessel in the morning. I have made all the standard arrangements. It will be quite a sizable haul this year, given that the new members’ initiation fees are in play. That was ingenious of you to remove the death-only requirement this season to increase the numbers.

  Hart said, “It almost seems as if Hell’s Tunnel is backwashing all its demons onto earth, and the Whitestone is their main port of entry. They have been applying in droves. Everyone wants to be a member of this club.”

  Giving a throaty chuckle, Karl replied, “Well, that was part of my swan song. Once again, these fools have come through for us, and now it is time to cash their chips in. Maybe, we should promote them all to Black Veil status and rake in even more funds.”

  “I guess the richer they are, the more they believe their own fantasies. That is the downfall of every true narcissist.”

  Karl reached over for a sip of brandy, “I almost thought our friend Max had finally figured it out. I am at least pretty sure that he has his suspicions.” The three men nodded in agreement.

  Karl ranted, “For once, I wish these toxin-spewing demigods would think about others instead of continuing their charade of world domination. How much more can this beautiful planet withstand. How many ill-gotten gains does one really need to make? The Black Veil members are specially to blame.”

  He began to pace in a circle, “Don’t those pompous blowhards know they really can’t take it with them. Don’t they realize that their intendeds cannot possibly meet up with them later?”

  Karl then gave an arrogant sniff, “That privilege is only reserved for one very exceptional player. And, I can personally assure you that he has not chosen that option quite yet. It is still in the works.”

  Hart interjected, “I guess one could argue, that you are to blame for telling all of them that they can have eternal love. It is just another obvious testament to your exquisite skills how easily they fell for your ruse.”

  Harris quipped, “And, using a little bit of MI6 brainwashing techniques from time to time, didn’t hurt either. The Italian chap really needed it. There was no other way to turn him.”

  Karl muttered, as he walked into the humidor.

  “Yes, Fiore was indeed a challenge. I am surprised he flipped. Obviously, not as stubborn as his father was.”

  He brought out a case of the finest of cigars, handed one to each of his companions, and put the rest next to his suitcase.

  As he lit up, Karl mused, “Enough of my trying to champion their cause. Their rampant media and policy manipulation has been giving me headaches while I try to keep up.”

  He puffed and emitted a large cloud of smoke, “It is all such a bore to me. I will not change my mind. This will definitely be my final season.

  Let the chaos begin.”

  Karl’s eyes became very dark, as he pressed a red button on his cell phone to summon his bodyguards.

  He then shook his hands toward the ceiling and declared,

  “They make Satan look like a bloody boy scout. These pirates are too evil to even go down there.” They all laughed.

  Hart said cheerfully, “You might like to know that all of the ceremony scripts are ready for the Officiate.”

  Hicks added, “Yes, and we changed the communion verses. This new one is extra demonic. And maybe it will actually invoke him.”

  Karl suppressed a grin as he looked at his partners. Under his breath he said to himself,

  “If only these three knew the whole truth. Perhaps, someday I will tell them.”

  The two henchmen returned to the room and gathered up the suitcases. Karl tucked his cigar case under his arm as he walked behind them.

  “Adieu gentlemen. I will see you later, after I take care of my ladies. Make sure to record all of tonight’s event. Maybe, some additional blackmail is in order too. Those playroom tapes have served us well, and have always been our best money-maker…”

  19 OUT FROM THE SHADOWS

  Back at the Whitestone, all the trappings were in place. The usual employees had been given the day off, and a series of mini-buses pulled in, carrying a special staff for the event. They alighted from the vehicles, wearing pointy hooded sweatshirts. They had signed the confidentiality waivers, received their instructions and uniforms, and began to take their positions throughout the club.

  Kristen was putting on the finishing touches of her make-up for the Whitestone visit, when Anthony called from New York,

  “Wow! I cannot believe how hot it has been here. I feel like driving to my yacht to take it out. I have been sweating all day. You keeping cool baby?”

  Kristen shot-gunned off her questions, “Your yacht? What are you talking about Anthony? I saw on the news today that New York was already down in the 40’s? Your yacht is in Miami, isn’t it? Where are you?

  There was a dead silence.

  “Whoops, I meant to say that you must have been sweating all day.” That was all he would offer.

  Kristen was not sure that she believed that answer. She didn’t want to argue, and quickly said, “When are you coming home? It would be nice to see you.”

  Anthony hesitated before answering, “Uh, I have a fancy business affair to go to tonight. I will probably fly back tomorrow sometime. I am sorry honey, I have another call.” He then hung up.

  Kristen felt her fiancé was up to something. She had the weirdest feeling that he was in Palm Beach today, and not New York. She looked at the clock. It was already 3:45.

 
“Oh no, I better step it up and get out of here.”

  She slid into her new sandals and grabbed her purse from the hall table, as she ran out the door.

  As she arrived at the Whitestone, the gates automatically opened for her Ferrari. She looked at the camera mounted on it and gave it a big smile and a wave. The building was completely lit up and looked welcoming.

  As Kristen looked over toward the house that Gregory had brought her to, she was surprised to see only the glow of a candle burning in the middle window. The rest of the house was pitch black, and it looked abandoned. She wondered again where Gregory had disappeared to after the mishap at Taboo.

  The valet service was not set up yet, so Kristen drove over to a side parking lot by the golf course and left her car there.

  Walking in the front door, she was amazed by the large arches and the splendor of it all. No one was there to greet her, and all the doors were closed, except for one.

  Kristen headed toward it and found herself in a beautiful room. She paused and admired the paintings on the wall. She recognized Van Gogh, Rembrandt, and more. They looked authentic, and not look like reproductions.

  Suddenly, she had an eerie feeling that she had been there before, but she couldn’t figure out how that could have happened? It might have been that her father took her there when she was very young? She knew that was the wrong answer.

  Her thoughts were interrupted when an elderly man came up behind her. Kristen gave a little jump, “Oh my, you startled me.”

  She became uneasy, while the man remained silent and studied her with his eyes. He was dressed in formal attire and was carrying a silver tray with a glass of wine on it.

  He extended it toward her, and spoke very slowly, as if he had suffered a stroke at some point.

  “You must be Kristen. I am Charles Whitcomb. I am very honored to meet you.”

  Kristen thought that was a bit over the top. He was starting to make her feel creepy, and she did not reach for the glass. She nervously asked, “Where is Kittens? Is she running late?

  “Kittens will not be coming tonight. She sends her apologies.”

  “That’s too bad, I was looking forward to seeing her again. She said that this would be a big cocktail party. Where is everyone?”

  “I am afraid that my daughter misrepresented herself. There is no cocktail party.”

  Kristen had no idea what to say next. She stood awkwardly, and was so nervous, that her legs started to hurt.

  A man came in from the hallway. He was carrying a clipboard and wearing a hoodie.

  Charles looked surprised, “Excuse me sir, just where do you think you are going? All of the temporary staff for tonight’s party are over in the East wing until they are called upon.”

  The man answered in a heavy southern accent, “I am sorry. And what is your name? He began furiously writing and looking around the room like he was surveying it.”

  Charles walked toward him, “You don’t need to know it. sir. You are in an unauthorized area. Again, who are you?”

  “It’s OK, everything is fine pal. The name’s La Rue, I am the temp staff supervisor. I was told that some of my crew came in here. My mistake. I am just here for about ten more minutes to make sure everything is set up for your party. I’m leaving now.”

  As the supervisor walked out, he passed by Kristen. She had her back to him, and now turned around. A look of recognition crossed over both their faces. Underneath his bushy mustache, and thick tinted glasses, Kristen thought he looked a lot like Robert St. Germain!

  The man now held his clipboard up close to his face and rushed out.

  Kristen stared after him. She thought, “It couldn’t be Robert. It must be a creepy look-alike. It’s probably just my nerves again.”

  Charles looked up toward a security camera in the corner and held up his finger.

  From a side door, Harris, Hicks, and Hart entered and sat on a couch in front of her.

  Kristen instantly forgot about St. Germain, and her memories of the masked men in the Chicago dungeon room came flooding back. She noticed that these men were the same height and build as they had been. They were very handsome; almost too much. They were also elegantly dressed the same as Mr. Whitcomb.

  Kristen gathered up courage and asked the big question.

  “You all know Karl, don’t you?”

  The three looked slightly surprised, and then amused.

  Harris spoke first, “Yes, Miss Kenworth. You have seen us before. We enjoyed your presence in Chicago, and we were most distressed when you ran out before meeting us at Karl’s house in London.

  Kristen’s eyes now grew wide in fear.

  “So, those were your three cars parked there that night? Millicent warned me about that place, and when I saw your cars, I knew it was time to go.”

  She became bolder, “I just wasn’t in the mood for any more black square parties in the playroom. And, if this is going to turn out to be one right now, then I am leaving. Does Karl know you are here?”

  Hart answered her, “Karl is expected later, and he asked us to entertain you until he shows up. He started speaking to her like a child, “You want to see Karl, don’t you? We know you do.”

  They all shook their head in agreement. Hart stood up to take the wine glass from the tray and handed it to her. Kristen nodded as she accepted it. She knew not to drink from it, even though she was strangely getting very thirsty. She blinked her eyes, as the liquid began to look like dark red blood. Her stomach began to turn.

  Harris approached her, “Is the wine not to your liking Miss Kenworth? Perhaps you would care more for Chardonnay?”

  Kristen walked over to a table and set it down, “No, I would prefer no drink at all, thank you. I just can’t find myself trusting of your hospitality.”

  Mr. Whitcomb joined in, “You have nothing to fear here Kristen. We are just trying to make you feel comfortable. It shouldn’t be long before Karl will appear.”

  Kristen looked exasperated, “When I saw Karl on his yacht, I made it clear to him that I am happily engaged and he agreed that he had no further interest in me. Then, he pursued me once again, and it was a total disaster in London.”

  She continued, “He knows that Anthony will tear him apart if he ever sees him again. So, now I am wondering what exactly this is all about? I do not want to see him, but I do need to speak to him now. Please give me his phone number.”

  Harris shook his head, “No, Karl only wants to speak to you in person. You will understand why, as soon as you see him. It should not be long now. Please be seated.”

  Mr. Whitcomb firmly held her arm, as he led her to a chair by the window. Kristen looked out at the golf course as she sat down and started thinking hard about an escape strategy.

  “You know,” she said coyly, “I would like a glass of white wine instead. And, since I will be waiting for Karl for a while, a whole bottle would be preferred. Mr. Whitcomb looked at the camera again and motioned to it.

  One minute later, a waiter arrived with a bottle and another glass, and set it down next to Kristen. She smiled at him as he pulled out the cork.

  Kristen reached over and began to pour it for herself. She held it to her lips as she pretended to sip. She then put it down, “I can tell this is a bit too dry for me. I think I will just wait a bit before I drink it. I do not feel very well.”

  The three men looked disappointed, and Harris took out his cell phone. He dialed a number and handed it to Kristen.

  She stood up and held it to her ear as it rang. A voice came on the phone, and as she expected, it was Karl.

  “Miss Kenworth. How lovely to be conversing with you again. Why are you giving my friends such a hard time, they are only doing my bidding? They are fascinating dinner partners. Why don’t you go with them and get yourself a bite to eat in the club’s restaurant?”

  “Karl, when it comes to you and your latest antics, all I can think about is that they have plans to drug me. And that Karl, is the only way anyone is goin
g to get me to stay here until you show up.”

  Karl laughed, “I would never do that my dear. You know it is not necessary. The mere sound of my voice is enough to get you to remain. I am all you can think about right now.”

  Kristen was annoyed, “Actually Karl, all I can think about is how my fiancé is going to come and get me out of here. Good-bye.”

  Kristen then used their cell to dial for Anthony. The phone made a loud screeching noise, and she had to pull it away from her ear. She tried again, and this time the call went dead.

  Hicks laughed, “You haven’t figured your on-going phone issues yet. Have you? Karl is in control of everything you do. A pity you didn’t figure that out long ago. Are you the person you thought you would be by now? There is a good reason why you are not.”

  Tears came to Kristen’s eyes, and she now felt hopeless. She sat down looking forlorn, and could feel that she was beginning to give up, “Why wouldn’t Karl just leave her alone and let her be happy?”

  The phone rang again, and Karl was angry at her for hanging up on him, “Kristen, how many times must you act like this? I will be there within the half-hour, and I expect a big smile from you when I see you. This is a very special night for us all, and it is the moment that you have been waiting for.

  I am now finally ready for you, and I will not hold back as I have done in the past. My feelings for you can no longer be restrained. You need to go with them now to be prepared.”

  Kristen handed the phone back to Harris. She reached out her hand for the red wine and downed the entire glass. Nothing happened.

  Hart smiled at her, “There, that’s a good girl, see the wine is fine, nothing to be afraid about. Karl would never let anything happen to you. He cares very strongly for you.”

  “We need to go make the arrangements for his arrival. Please remain comfortable. I am sure Charles will be good company until we return.”

  “Thank you, gentlemen.” Kristen let them believe that everything was alright now.

  She looked over to make small talk with Charles, “So, Mr. Whitcomb, has your wife Ariel ever been here? How about Kittens? What a cute name.”