Chapter 33: Old Home for Some, New Home for Others
Roger and Gwen’s fun fun was followed by a nap and then a nice dinner in the hotel dining room, and he told her all about his Divvy Sense ordeal, as he put it. Regardless of his choice of words, Gwen understood this was an epic experience for Roger. It was clear to her that Roger had not until then really known the full extent of his strange power to know the inherent cultural value of old objects. He’d always had the sense, but never before had it been challenged to perform at such a high level, and he was shocked at what he had accomplished. He thought this because he had absolute confidence in his choice of things taken from the warehouses, and knew he had scored some very fine stuff. He tried to explain to Gwen exactly what those five hours of scanning and feeling and sensing and choosing had been like, but after trying several analogies that didn’t really work, he said it was like being in bed with her. It was like those special times when they didn’t think about the sex, they didn’t think about other things, they didn’t really think about each other; they just came together and acted and felt and loved each other. He said that for five intense hours he was in love with all those objects in the warehouses that were so old and which had such histories and associations with Russian culture and people. Gwen understood and was happy for him, and a bit envious, and very glad he had not gotten caught.
The next day they boarded a flight that made a stop in Stockholm, and then headed for Atlanta. Roger slept most of the way, and Gwen spent a lot of time thinking about Little Jinny, Plouriva, and these two guys named Peter and Pater. She wasn’t sure she was feeling sorry for them exactly, but she was feeling concerned, and thought the whole idea of sticking them into a frigging shipping container together for eight days was weirder than shit. At dinner the night before when Roger explained this part of the action to her, she wanted to know whose idea it was. Roger said he didn’t know whether it was Constantine’s idea or Henric’s idea, but that one of those guys made the arrangement. He told her Constantine said that when the morning shift of security guards went out to the perimeter guard gate and did not find Peter and Pater there waiting to be relieved, all hell was going to break loose. It would not take the security division long to go looking for Plouriva and the museum crates, and then they would find the cut locks on the warehouses, and then the alarm would go out all over town. Constantine told the team in the hanger this was the only sure way to get four people out of the country pronto. It was not comfortable, but it was certain.
Gwen still thought it was weird, but realized she didn’t know much about Russian security matters, and started thinking about how to make it up to Jinny and Plouriva when they finally showed up in Charleston in about a week. She asked Roger what he thought would happen to the four of them crammed together for all those days, being that Jinny and Plouriva were heterosexual partners and Peter and Pater were homosexual partners? Roger decided he was too tired to field this question right then on the plane, and went back to sleep.
During the long flight to Atlanta Gwen realized it soon would be time for her to again perform for the team. She had not done squat in Russia. That was Jinny at the start and then Plouriva in the middle and then Roger at the end. At dinner Roger had given Constantine and Henric their due – without them, the job would not have happened in the successful way it had. They had been major players, and it had been interesting to watch them operate. Gwen realized she had not contributed to the mission since her actions in the south of France had led to the fine wine partnerships. The wine would flow in Charleston in large measure due to her and The Deneuve. And the actions of The Deneuve had been in large measure due to the friendship that had blossomed with Gwen. Gwen thought about Catherine for a long time, and knew she had to see her again soon. She did not want that friendship to die.
Gwen thought about what things would be like when they arrived home. She knew she would have a week with Roger to adapt, after being gone some forty days. Then, Little Jinny, his girlfriend, and two strange guys would show up on their doorstep. What was that going to be like? Gwen figured it pretty much would be like what it was before they left for Europe. Jinny was a force to be reckoned with; Gwen was sure he would dominate the Russian crew and they would follow his lead. This conclusion pleased Gwen, because she knew she owned Jinny. Of course things would be more complex with the other three Russians around, but Gwen figured she would have four people at her command. What to do with them, what to do? How would this Russian enclave fit into Charleston culture, and what were Gwen’s responsibilities to the team? What exactly was going to happen over the next few weeks and months? If it was anything like their forty days in Europe, she and Roger were going to sustain a change in their life-style.
So forty days after leaving their beloved Charleston, she and Roger returned home. When their house sitter opened the door, the dog barreled into Roger at knee level, practically knocking him over. Lots of slobber and lots of yelps. Whenever either of them sat down anywhere in the house, the cat materialized out of nowhere and jumped on their laps. When this dissipated, Roger and Gwen let feelings of warmth and satisfaction roll over them like breezes off the ocean. They were home, and they were happy. The next few days they spent luxuriating in their own beds and their own chairs and their own kitchen and their own foods. The dog got walked twice a day and the garden got some attention and the refrigerator got stocked up and a couple bottles of champagne were drunk and appreciated. On day four, at breakfast, Gwen said, “Hey, Mr. June, what’s the plan?” He looked at her like he didn’t follow her. He answered that his plan for lunch was a salad and peach iced tea at the Mills House Hotel bar. He was able to keep a straight face as he returned to reading the newspaper. Gwen allowed him his little joke for a few minutes, but then again asked, “Yo, what’s the plan?” This time Roger knew his wife was expecting a serious answer, so he said, “You mean about the fact that the Russians are coming, the Russians are coming?” Gwen blinked her eyes at him, which was a signal to keep talking.
Roger put the paper down on the table and with exaggerated courtesy said, “My dear, I am at your service. Whatever plan you come up with, I will support it.”
So it was going to be like that, was it. Well, she couldn’t blame the guy. He was the one who actively had stolen the property of the Russian Republic. He was the one who spent five hours in the middle of the night prowling through warehouses, ever hoping a squad of paramilitary security forces didn’t swoop down on them and transport them to one of the many medieval dungeons that graced subterranean Saint Petersburg. And he was the one who had led the team from its inception, through its organization, to its parade through the countryside of Burgundy and Bordeaux. Upon setting foot in Russia, he had handed the reins to Jinny, but still had taken great risks during the heist. So now he was informing his wife that it was her turn to lead. Gwen thought, “So be it.”
The phone rang. Roger picked up his paper and returned to reading about the Yankees. Gwen answered, listened, and said to Roger, “It’s Constantine.” She listened some more, said, “Ok, thanks,” and hung up. She looked at Roger and said, “The ship arrives tomorrow in Savannah, and we gotta get the Russians off there.” So the game began anew. After a nice lunch at the Mills House, Gwen took Roger into the living room, set up the easels with flip chart paper, and began planning. Roger sat on the sofa with the dog draped over one foot, the cat next to him. At the top of one flipchart page she wrote G, and on another she wrote R, and on the third she wrote J,P,P,P. Roger followed her so far; loving his wife’s logical mind.
On Roger’s sheet she wrote the following list of duties: import wine, store wine, organize wine, rent warehouse, inventory antiques, organize antiques. On her list she wrote: search for houses for sale, contact currency traders for rates, compile Charleston cultural events calendar, buy guns, learn about Russian cuisine. She then moved to the third easel on which was written J,P,P,P. She looked
at the chart, then looked at Roger. He smiled at her and shrugged. She looked at the blank page on the chart, kept looking at it, then went and sat on the sofa next to her husband. She leaned forward and asked the dog, “What the hell are we going to do with four Russians in Charleston, for god’s sake?”
Aristocratic Thieves Page 33
