Counterpoint (6 page)

Max’s silence, as he approvingly
appraised her was all she needed to know. She flushed and
positively beamed with delight when he looked deep into her eyes.
Her face was mobile and expressive, her eyes opened, rounded and
softened, as he looked at her.

“You look pretty damn good as well,”
she murmured holding the gaze.

“We had better go,” said Max,
forgetting his earlier thoughts, confidence rebuilt to face
anything with her by his side. He knew she would not be with him if
she did not want to be, and to flatter him was not her way.

The Rolls was silent, and as they
approached, the chauffeur opened the rear doors for them, closing
them firmly but reverently in a gentle, reassuring clunk.

Max had always wanted to ride in a
Rolls and had supposed his only chance would be in a hearse, on the
way to his own funeral.

The cream cotton twill upholstery
covered sculptured seats, offering soft but supportive comfort. The
seat felt like it had been specially made, just for him. Only the
gentle acceleration made Max aware the car had actually started.
The legendary silence of a Rolls was actually true.

Through the town they glided; Carla
pointed out different places of interest on the way. At the edge of
the town, a blaze of lights shone in the distance, high on the
mountain.

“That’s where we are going,” she said,
grinning excitedly.

Their eyes met again, and they held the
gaze, neither wanting to break it, whilst looking into the others
soul and mind for clues to what the other was thinking.

When the last street light passed, and
darkness fell around them, they looked away, each silent with
thought.

“Looks like we are nearly there,” said
Max breaking the silence. The approaching light lit her face, and
she was looking ahead with excited anticipation.

The Duke’s home was enormous, running
back into the plateau on three levels above ground, each level
narrower and set back from the one below it. The penthouse on top,
offices below, and reception areas at ground level.

Tall pine trees lined the long winding
drive, illuminated to great effect by coloured spotlights pointing
up into the branches. The courtyard at the front was vast. The
granite sets paved the driveway like a village street, around a
large circular island that formed the helicopter pad. Wherever
possible, backlit shrubbery glowing a rich dark green, illuminated
and decorated the area, creating a soft and welcoming feeling, out
of this otherwise cold and hard space.

The two entrances to the underground
garages were at the sides of the building, and many of the guest’s
Chauffeurs had parked there, respecting the Duke’s desire to avoid
clutter on the front.

The Rolls slid to a halt under the
entrance canopy, footmen opened the car doors, and they stepped
out.

The unexpectedly humid, early summer
evening, was cool and refreshing, so high up in the mountain. The
vast velvet-black night sky, pierced by countless glittering stars
and a full moon, felt intoxicating and romantic. More so when a
gentle breeze carried the scent of Carla’s freshly washed skin,
clean hair and delicate fragrance, towards him.

The chill of the breeze made her draw
closer to him and a thrill passed through his body. He was about to
pull her around to face him, and embrace her, and tell her, he had
fallen in love with her, when she walked forward. Instantly, he
went with her. Perhaps she knew what he had been about to do, and
saved him from making a bloody fool of himself.

They walked together, unthinkingly arm
in arm, past the massive open oak entrance doors into the reception
hall.

The lights from the large chandeliers
were bright; a band was playing gently in the background, over the
murmur of the other guests’ conversations.

About fifty couples had already
arrived, many looking in their direction as they were announced as
Mr Max and Miss Carla and immediately presented to the Duke.

A slim, elderly man stepped towards
them. His charisma announced to Max that this man was the Duke.

Although Max knew he was nearly eighty,
he looked about 60. His full head of silver hair crowned a small
rectangular face of tight, virtually wrinkle free skin. Max could
see no signs of wig or plastic surgery and envied his looks for his
age.

There was no doubt about the Duke’s
superior intellect, Max felt the Duke’s dark brown eyes reading his
every thought, in fact, they twinkled, and he faintly smiled when
the wig and plastic surgery flashed through Max’s mind.

His warm, open smile and genuine
welcoming handshake put Max entirely at ease. “I am so pleased to
meet you at last he said, Carla has told me a lot about you and any
real friend of hers is most welcome here.”

The Duke then turned to Carla. He
gently grasped her fingers in his hands, raised them slightly as he
stepped back at arm’s length to admire her. His eyes wet with the
love and admiration he had for this girl. The look of love and
pride a father has for his daughter at some milestone in her life.
She looked back with the same kind of love, at her adoring father.
She lived to please him.

Max was not surprised at the
father/daughter love being expressed here, based on what Carla had
told him, but the intensity left him wondering if there were more
to it.

The Duke was the perfect host, and the
evening was filled with surprises and enlightenment.

The other guests had arrived much
earlier, most were senior executives, and the usual business
meeting had taken place upstairs. The people knew each other well
and in broad terms, understood much of their respective fields of
interest. The secret of The Organisation’s success was their
ability to take an advance in knowledge, be it scientific,
political or whatever and apply it in seemingly unrelated ways. A
recently designed compound had been discussed at an earlier
meeting, in conjunction with computer-controlled mould making
machinery and software. The software produced suitably distorted
mould shapes so that after moulding, the cooled product had a
perfect shape. Several new products were being manufactured now,
using the compound and this process.

A German arms manufacturer had produced
an extraordinary automatic pistol this way, using the special
compound. Every part was shiny like black glass, even the bullet.
The bullets matched the rifling of the barrel so perfectly they
slid virtually frictionless inside it while maintaining the gas
tight fit of an air bearing. The traditional metal cartridge case
was unnecessary. The explosive propellant material was a hard,
waterproof substance, moulded as a cartridge case, bonded to the
bullet and fired electrically. There was no case to eject after
firing. The benefit was cheap ammunition, simple, non-jamming
mechanism, and consistent performance.

A presentation case was given to the
Duke and contained the pistol, suppressor and 10 clips of
ammunition, each holding 30 rounds. Some bullets were high
velocity, some were designed to break up like orange segments. Each
segment, extremely hard and exceedingly sharp could penetrate most
light body armour and produce large surface wounds. The impact on
heavy body armour was like being struck by a sledgehammer.

Other types of ammunition from the
range were included as samples. The Duke thought the weapon was so
beautiful and feminine he planned to pass it on to Carla.

Talking freely with the guests, Max
soon discovered some of the reasons why the Duke was so popular
with everyone.

In the village, at a personal level, a
widow had asked for the Duke’s help when she discovered her husband
had forgotten to pay his life insurance premium and had
inconveniently died.

The Duke made enquiries on her behalf
to this leading Insurance Company and claimed the husband had
posted the cheque, and it must have become lost in the post. The
cheque mysteriously turned up in due course, and the Company paid
out.

The case was subject to considerable
coast-to-coast publicity in favour of the Company. They did well
out of the increased business, as did certain press and television
companies who had exclusive rights to report the story. The Duke
also did well from many small revenues, from each of these.

The Duke was approached by one of the
shopkeepers fronting Carla’s hideaway about his idle, bully of a
son who had admitted stealing from the Duke’s shop. He asked the
Duke to give him a little extra time to make good the theft by
delaying rent payment. The Duke agreed, but said should the wayward
son decide of his own free will to make restitution, the shopkeeper
should go along with it and support the boy as necessary.

After bumping into the Duke’s Chief
Steward in a dark alley the following night, the boy begged his
father to forgive him and let him work in the shop for just his
food and lodging for the next year. Also, the evenings were spent
doing chores for certain elderly people in the village. The boy was
at the reception this weekend, working under the scrutiny of the
Chief Steward.

And so, the stories went on. No wonder
the Duke was so loved and revered by all.

Well, not everybody!

There was a spate of drug abuse and
linked crime, but that stopped when a newcomer, thought to be at
the root of it, mysteriously died.

Max also discovered how The
Organisation worked. It appeared the Duke’s wealth was the result
of his fingers in many pies. Specialist Firms and Companies linked
together in a symbiotic relationship.

For example, special paper manufactures
for currency, printing equipment for currency, engraving equipment,
for currency, and many other industries. None were directly linked,
and none had any obvious criminal connections, but viewed
collectively, there was a pattern there.

Max concluded that worldwide, the
senior Directors of the various concerns linked to The Organisation
paid a small, but regular commission to the Duke for their
appointments. This totalled up to significant revenue.

Other businesses involved with Real
Estate and Construction worked in a similar way.

Large areas of harbour side property,
overrun with crime and dereliction were bought up and transformed
into luxury homes and marinas for the seriously wealthy.

Why crime suddenly rose to epidemic
proportions in these areas and died away over night, when bought
up, was never clear to the Authorities, they were just glad it
did.

Nobody seemed to lose out. The original
landowners were delighted to be rid of it for a fair price, the
Police got credit for tackling the crime, and peace reigned.
Politicians were praised for their foresight and re-elected. The
shopkeepers and traders became wealthy from the money earned from
the rich and did not care too much that their rates were increased
because household rates actually went down!

After a sumptuous meal and some
dancing, Carla suggested they leave, so they said their goodbyes to
the guests and the Duke.

The Duke told Carla he wanted a quick
word with Max first, so she walked away towards the entrance doors
and waited.

The Duke came straight to the point. “I
see a deeper relationship between you and Carla than just
friendship.”

Max was taken aback and wondered how he
had come to that conclusion; after all neither he or Carla had even
discussed such a thing.

“I think you are mistaken, Sir,” Max
replied.

“Not at all, it is written all over
your faces, you can’t take your eyes off each other and everything
you say gives you away. The point is; Carla is a free spirit,
highly intelligent, exceptionally beautiful and half your age.

No one can dominate her, a normal life
will soon lead to boredom, there would be an insufficient stimulus
to keep her interested, and many young and handsome men will
challenge you for her affections.

You are special to her now for some
reason, but you should face the facts and protect yourself from a
broken heart!”

Max’s face showed his rising anger, but
the Duke continued; “I tell you this, not because I fear losing her
love, it is not like that between us, but the intensity of love is
greater with age and so is the pain when it is lost.

Please just think about what I have
said, I like you and respect you and hope we can treat each other
as friends.”

Max said nothing as the Duke smiled and
said, “You had better go now, she grows impatient!”

Carla’s face beamed, and she grabbed
Max’s arm and linked hers in his, pulling him close to her. “What
did he say?” She whispered conspiratorially.

“Oh, nothing really, just that you’re a
right little handful, you can’t cook, and if I want to stick
around, I’d better get off my fat arse and get a decent job!” She
chuckled, pushed into him, and said, “I knew he would like you and
I hope you will want to stick around.”

Max felt better about the relationship
with Carla, from the way she was behaving. They arrived home in no
time, laughing and giggling they staggered into the lounge. Max
held her bare shoulders gently in his hands; her cool skin was soft
and smooth to the touch. He turned her to face him, and she looked
up. As he leaned in to kiss her, she reached up with her arm round
his neck and pulled him to her. They kissed with an intense passion
that neither wanted to end.

Still kissing, Max carried her up to
her bedroom.

In anticipation of what might follow,
his penis rose up like the drawbridge of a castle, under surprise
attack.

He let her down, standing by the side
of her bed. As she slid down, she felt the lump of his penis,
pressing into her.

She said softly, in
a
Mae West
voice
“is that your torch or are you just pleased to see me?” Then she
chuckled and started to undo his trousers. He unzipped her dress;
she wriggled out of it, letting it fall to the floor around her
feet. Kicking off her shoes, she attacked his remaining clothing
feverishly.