On the Lam

It was little wonder then that Doris was looking for a little fun outside the marriage. She was a fine woman who took care of Davy. He was not the kind of man who could do that for himself, but Doris on the other hand was self-assured and independent. As she aged and matured, Doris' looks seemed to increase. She was one of those women who went from pretty girl to beautiful woman. Was it any wonder she had found a younger, handsomer man? But the woman had a head on her shoulders too. She was not leaving her husband, just looking for a discreet affair.

Why had David walked out? He was a smart man. He should know he couldn't leave everything behind and survive. But Agnes had learned you could always count on her son's stubborn nature to overcome his good sense. When David stormed out, she expected him back within a few days, but that had been eight going on nine months ago.

Where was he now? How was he living? The families had agreed to give him his space and let him cool down. Maybe that was no longer the best strategy. Before he left, he had said hurtful things, mainly to his mother and wife. Perhaps if he knew they forgave him, he would come back? He is, after all, a good son and a good husband. The kind of Father who would give up his life for his children.

_____________________________________________

The good son was holding a pair of sevens. The game was Texas Holdem, but it was being played in a hotel room in Monte Carlo. The game was illegal and rigged. I was here out of boredom. After Annette returned to her family, I was a bit lonely and decided to continue my European tour where I had left off. Monaco had to be the most boring place on the face of the earth. If I had not stumbled onto the poker game, I would have been long gone. It was not the first time I had played poker with Europeans. The game was popular and cheating rampant.

This particular fixed game was a challenge. I had drifted around it for several weeks trying to figure how it was done. The game always had at least five players. Three were regulars and in on the fix. The fourth was the mark, always a rich, loose player, and the fifth someone like me -- a conservative player included to make the game look good. A sixth or seventh player could be added but were not a necessity. The thing is, these guys were good -- they could probably have won honestly. But that would have taken more time and effort.

I had become focused on beating the cheats. What else was there for me to do these days? The mark tonight was a German businessman, Felix Gunther. He was already down two hundred thousand Euros. He was an affable guy and apparently quite wealthy, but even he was beginning to feel the pain. I was down just under twenty thousand, but things were about to change.

"We'all still playing table stakes," I said.

I find it is best when dealing with certain Europeans to emphasize an American accent. They kind of expect it, and when you are about to cheat a cheater it is wise to give him what he expects.

The game was simple. The deck we were playing with was short a few cards. Those cards were in the possession of the player to the right of tonight's big winner, Stephen LeCour. The three sharks rotated who would win, but the play was the same. They slipped a few cards out between each deal and then stored them until needed. The dealer was in on it, his name was Franco. If he had a last name, I never got it. Problem is, he had a real caffeine habit. Normally he took one bathroom break every two hours as did the rest of us, but tonight we had a very attentive and stunningly attractive new waitress. Michelle was wearing a skirt that was cut extravagantly short and a blouse that had far too many buttons undone. I had been paying more attention to her than to the game, and she had been flirting right back while religiously keeping all the drink glasses filled, including Franco's coffee cup.

When Franco had need of an early break, I innocently suggested that Michelle step in as dealer. In such a position, her tits would be where I would get a perfect view. The others snickered but had no objection. Michelle was more than a sexy waitress, she was an excellent mechanic as well. Not cars but cards, and she was not obvious -- she had real skill.

When I saw, the King of Spades and Queen of Hearts flop followed by the Seven of Diamonds, I knew what was coming. My friend across the table held a pair of kings slipped to him by his confederates. He came in with a small raise as a pull, and that's when I asked about the stakes.

"Qui monsuier, what is on the table," Stephen said.

"Good because I'm all in," I said now pushing two stacks of bills that when you removed the top twenty Euro notes were five hundred each of crisp five hundred Euro notes.

I saw old Stephen blanch, but how could he lose -- he was holding three kings against a stupid American who had spent most of the evening losing while ogling the cute waitress.

"What's a matter, should we start calling you Stephanie?" I asked as insultingly American as I could be.

"I call my brash friend."

When I flipped up my sevens to his kings, he was smirking broadly. When the Jack of diamonds fell, I thought he and his partners were going to have an orgasm. As Franco reentered the room fresh from his bathroom break, Michelle the bitch that she was smiled as she dropped the fourth seven right on cue.

"Oh, so sorry-ee monsieur," she said as if showing genuine distress.

Of course, the sharks suspected they had been played, but just how was a mystery.

"Well, my American friend," Gunther said to me at the bar after the game broke up, "it was almost worth my two hundred thousand to see the look on Stephen's face." He then added, "You are a very lucky man."

"No, and here is your money back," I said.

"But I can't accept that -- you won it."

"No, I cheated as did the others. The only honest man in the game was you."

At that moment, Michelle appeared in a black dress tight enough to have been painted on. I handed her a stack of Euros that would have choked a goat.

"Merci. Chaque fois que vous avez besoin d'un mechanic," she said before drifting off.

Gunther could barely contain himself.

"But why, my friend?" he asked.

"Nothing else to do, actually," I said.

"Gut, then you will come home with me and meet the family. They should be back from my in-laws. I can promise you the best schnitzel in Germany," he said.

That is how I came to Stuttgart.

__________________________________________________

Ollie Blackstone was a retired NYC police detective who just could not sit at home. It was said he could find anyone. He did not always do it through legal means.

"Sorry, Maria, no luck. I traced him to the Catskills, but he was gone when I arrived."

Senator Ruis had known Ollie since she was a little girl. The short fat black man who everyone underestimated was an old friend. He was the one who had got the goods on her ex and helped get the settlement that put her through law school.

"Not your fault Ollie, but you have absolutely no idea where he went?"

"No. The guy is clearly not running or hiding. He was in the western Catskills with a woman for part of the time. She was German, very good looking and married. Quite friendly she was. But he's the shy type, although the locals thought he was a pleasant enough fellow."

Maria could only smile at that -- David Landon the pleasant crook.

"How do you know the woman was German and married?" "Most of the people in that neck of the woods and I do mean woods are white. Many of Irish or German decent. I reckon they recognized two of their own and respected the wide gold band she wore."

"Poor Ollie, what did they think of you?"

"Well, Maria, with people like that, they may well think themselves better than you, but they are just too polite to let you know it," Ollie said, a smile turning the corners of his mouth up.

"So we came up empty."

"Not entirely. I think I identified his Achilles heel. That family of his is something different. Firstly, I think he walked because the wife is having an affair. The rest of the family play around quite a bit themselves, but your boy never did. They believe he's a modestly successful attorney. But I am dead sure he's the Stuyvesant entity, lock stock and barrel. He is a crook no doubt, but a shrewd one, maybe even a great one. He's not worried about the law, but the family is another matter. I think he will do just about anything to avoid them."

"So how do I use that, if we don't know where he is?"

"I guarantee someone in that family knows. You just need to hit the right button. He has one other problem, a property called 27 Division Street. Something he bought early on. The lot is controlling for the Center Square Development. The property itself is worthless, but he has spent a fortune on it. He has not been as careful as he should be there. Unlike his other dealings, it ties directly to the project. Be hard to see any legitimate purpose to his actions."

__________________________________________ "Guten Abend Frau Gunther! Ich freue mich, Sie kennen zu lernen," I said in my miserable German.

"Hello, Mr. Landon. I am very pleased to meet you, and your German is truly awful," Sophie Gunther said in perfect American English, suppressing a laugh as best she could.

"Felix might have told me his wife was an American," I replied.

"I'm Canadian actually, and Felix always loves to trick North Americans that way."

Sophie had to be at least fifteen years younger than her husband. She was a looker, as the saying goes. A small but not petite woman. She was built. Round in all the right places. I wondered why Felix was roaming around Monte Carlo alone when he was married to such a young hot wife.

The couple had two children, a boy four and a girl two, and they lived in a big house in the suburbs. When I say big, I mean by European standards, about ten thousand square feet. It had an addition, a large entertainment room with a bar and enough open space for dancing. As with so many houses in Germany, it was ultra-modern and lacking in any familial warmth.

I missed that cabin in the Catskills, but staying with the Gunther's was no hardship. My hosts put me up in an extravagant guest room overlooking a neighboring vineyard. They did a lot of entertaining, so having an extra male seemed right up Sophie's alley. She proceeded to pair me up with all her free female friends. The problem I had was with my hostess's definition of free.

"Sophie may I ask a question?" I said, sitting with her at a small round table in the kitchen's breakfast nook.

"Of course Dave."

"I seemed to be paired up with Mrs. Erickson last night at your dinner party."

"Yes, did you object to her as a partner? She is quite attractive and has a lively personality," she said.

"Well, she is married and I believe happily living with her husband. But he was not with her last night, I was."

"But she was only out for a pleasant evening. She would not have seduced you on a first meeting. She and her husband would need to reach an agreement before that could happen. But she did want to meet you. You have made a very good impression so far, and well, you have what I would say is an exciting reputation." She said all this with a wicked smile on her face.

I hesitated before asking my next question even though I was by then somewhat secure in what the answer would be.

"Mrs. Gunther, would you by chance have some understanding with your husband?"

"Why Mr. Landon, what would ever give you such an impression?" she said, that smile of hers getting broader, and a blush now tinting her cheeks.

She was so clearly yanking my chain at this point I had to laugh.

"So what's the deal?"

"Well, as you know by now my family lives in Canada. Two big a trip to take with the kids more than once every other year. So on those trips, when I am allegedly off visiting them, I get to play so to speak. I always choose a respectable man. Someone Felix will not know or hopefully ever meet. On his side, he goes gambling. This way we get to indulge our vices within limits. He loves to hear about my little adventures, by the way." She said this with only the mildest bit of embarrassment.

"I sometimes think that I am like Alice passing through the looking glass. Left is right and right has become wrong,"

"My poor friend, you have I believe a bad case of prudish romanticism. What you need is to relax and enjoy life. After all, if one breaks some legal conventions why hesitate to bend social rules," she said.

"I'm not judging -- as you suggest I am hardly an angel. But escorting married women makes me uncomfortable,"

"Well, this evening Fraulein Deiter, with whom you are paired, is unmarried, but unfortunately she is not free. So you must be on good behavior and be simply a filled seat. I have invited her man Rupert Von Kabchreuth and his wife, Annette. They have an understanding. He keeps a mistress or two and she has the occasional discreet affair, but only where no one will know," Sophie informed me.

"I see Mrs. Kabchreuth has relatives to visit as well."

"No, she is a travel writer. When she is abroad she plays, but only with men her husband will never meet. They are well off but not rich. He is our version of a Count."

"I am impressed, but tonight then I am strictly the extra man filling in," I said.

"Yes, be a good boy, no showing your backwoods prudishness,' she said, giving my hand a pat.

The evening began with cocktails shortly before eight. Dinner was to be at nine, but they rarely ate until later. Most evenings went till after midnight. The guests that night were all in the auto parts business like my host.

"Good evening Herr Landon. I have heard so many good things about you," Annette said.

"Truly pleased to meet you, countess," I replied.

{Whispering} "What the hell are you doing here David?" "Same as you, pretending we have never met."

Fraulein Deiter was rather good looking. She was a tall brunette with an exceptionally well-developed chest, young, maybe mid-twenties. She had almost no English and as already mentioned my German might get you a glass of wine or coffee but little more. Most of the guests spoke English, so I made out just fine until Sophie cornered me around midnight. She pulled me onto the garden steps away from her other guests.

"Why didn't you tell me you slept with Annette von Kabchreuth?" she said, none too pleased.

"Why would you say that?"

"You two have been avoiding each other all night and you are just her type."

"Which is?"

"Tall, foreign, and bose(wicked)," she said.

"Sorry, didn't think it showed," I said.

"Do you realize how impolite it is to embarrass poor Rupert this way? I shall have to have Felix apologize."

Then she turned to go back to her guests, leaving me alone to walk into the garden. The ornamental trees, shrubs, and pathways were lit with architectural precision by hidden lights. A voice spoke out of the shadows.

"A most pleasant evening for late October, but I fear we will not have many more," Rupert Von Kabchreuth said.

"You may be right, but I assure you that where I am from in New York it is much colder," I said.

"Odd, my wife spoke of the heat."

"Well, there you have the problem, hot summers and cold winters."

"Well then I shall try to avoid going." He had walked out of the shadows.

"You know," he began, "I believe I am better looking and a bit younger than you, but of course that still leaves you taller, richer and far more exciting."

"I don't believe I would be called exciting."

"Now that is a false conceit because you are decidedly dangerous and that always excites women."

"Perhaps you misjudge me," I said.

"I think not, at least not in my wife's view."

"Now perhaps you misjudge her."

"Oh, I did not state her intentions, only her desires. But I should be getting back."

"Guten abend, Graf. I hope to see you again."

"Good evening Herr Landon, and may you return home soon." With that the Graf took his leave.

____________________________________________

"Thank you for seeing me, Mr. Boswell," Liz Parker said to the newly appointed Executive Vice President of the Shamont Bank.

"I hope I am and will always be available both to our customers and the community," Larry Boswell, Jr. said, indicating that Liz should take a seat.

"Senator Ruis sends her regards."

"Well, how may I be of assistance to the Senator?"

Liz actually hated what she was about to do. Larry Boswell was a nice guy, although but for his families money he would have been a nice guy finishing last. As it was, she did not envy him his wealth or his position. His was a classic case of money not solving your problems.

Anne Boswell, Larry's wife, was as Liz had discovered a tramp. She barely tried to conceal her sexual indiscretions. The other women and men in his family were hardly any better, if more discrete. The Shamont fortune was built on theft and corruption. Larry, Sr. was a grand old crook. The Center Square Project had an abundance of what the politicians called honest graft. When Center Square was complete, most of the participants would be set for life, or at least until the next election and another turn at the pig sty trough that is Albany.

Larry junior, as Liz had discovered, was in on none of it and had argued against all of it. He had been to family counseling with his wife on two occasions, and was headed back again because Anne was pregnant and there was little chance that this -- her second child -- was a blood relation of her husband. It was Anne's fifth pregnancy and it was felt another abortion might be unwise, and besides, she had carelessly let it go a bit long. How Ollie had discovered all this Liz did not want to know.

Liz realized she had been looking out the office window at the soon to be leveled downtown Shamont. With a sigh and a straightening of her shoulders, she dropped the bomb.

"This is a subpoena for your appearance before the State Senate Sub-Committee of Standards and Practices. This is a relatively new group and we are investigating allegations of improper activities in the state's Eminent Domain proceedings," Liz said, handing the paper to Larry.

"But I know nothing about Eminent Domain. I assure you I have no connection with the Center Square project."

"Oh, we know that, but you do know the whereabouts of David Landon, your brother-in-law and closest friend. David knows everything, chapter and verse. He is a veritable expert on the corruption connected with Eminent Domain, and we've got him dead to rights," she said, pulling an oversized document from her briefcase.

Liz was smiling as she handed the photocopy of the deed for 27 Division Street to Larry. The ancient building had been in total disrepair and in need of being torn down. Stuyvesant, Ltd had held it for three years and then in the last year restored it completely to its 1857 conditions. Long before the Center Square was announced and before it was known to any but a select few insiders Stuyvesant took ownership. The plot of land described in the deed was critical to the project. The only thing that Liz and the Senator had not worked out was how Landon proposed to profit. He had paid five thousand dollars for the building -- all it was worth.

The property taxes due when Stuyvesant bought it were over ninety thousand dollars. Landon had paid those taxes and kept the building from falling down, then invested heavily in taking the building back to an archaic condition. When the building was taken by Eminent Domain, which it would be, he would at best get the five thousand back. Landon would lose all the taxes paid and all the costs of building repairs and restoration. It seemed a stupid move, but Landon was far from stupid.