Date: Thu, 13 Sep 2007 10:06:23 +0100 (BST)
From: Michael Arram <mike_arram@yahoo.co.uk>
Subject: After Alex 17

XVII

  Ben and Phil had a passionate reunion as soon as Henry brought Phil back
to Strelzen.
  `I'm so proud of you, baby.'
  Ben kissed Phil and caressed his flanks as they lay together.  `Our life
will change a lot.'
  `Oh, I don't mind.  There's quite a tradition of academics being kept
men.  What worries me is if you get sucked into the job and have no time
for me.'
  `That'll never happen.  Look at Matt and Andy, how they manage.'
  `Matt's away a lot.'
  `But they are together a lot too, and it's not just on holidays.  Oh,
dear.  I'll have to buy so many more suits.'
  `And you'll look gorgeous in them.  Oooh, I have a fantasy of you fucking
a naked me while fully dressed in a three-piece Saville Row suit.  Think
you could manage that?'
  Ben laughed, suddenly carefree and happy.  The decision had been made
and, oddly, it was no longer Phil whose reaction most concerned him, or
even Alex, but his estranged parents in Yorkshire.  Now maybe was the time
to make one more assault on the fortress of their alienation.  They were
nearly in their sixties and he was their only child.
  Phil was up on his elbow looking down on Ben.  He cupped Ben's
preoccupied face with both hands and stared into his eyes.  `What is it,
baby?'
  Ben looked up and offered his mouth for a kiss before telling him.
  Phil nodded.  `Benny, I'll come with you.  We'll do it together.  I can
charm your mum, I know I can.'
  Ben shook his head.  `Even Alex couldn't do it.  They slammed the door on
us when we tried the hand-in-hand happy gay couple thing.  It was
... horrible.'
  Phil cuddled into his lover.  There seemed little more to say.  Phil's
mother at least was still talking to him, though he had not been down to
Cannock since the bombshell.  His father had been a lost cause even before
he had come out.
  `We're both their only children,' Phil observed quietly.  `I suppose that
gives us an obligation to try to heal the breach.  Life is lonely enough as
it is without opening up gulfs within our small families.'
  Ben kissed his dark hair.  `You're right.  Maybe if I turn up in a Rolls
Royce they might come round to me more.'
  `You never can tell.  A private jet or a helicopter might be even more
effective.'
  `I'm not in that league ...'
  `... yet.  But you may be, Bennyboy, one day.'
  The room phone buzzed and Phil reached over to pick it up.  It was Terry
inviting them down for a drink.
  Justin was looking moody and chewing a toothpick when they walked into
the bar.  Phil asked him what the problem was.  `Given up smokin' again,
inn' I.  An' this time iss for good, innit.'
  Terry shook his head and raised his eyes.
  Justin stared at him accusingly.  `Iss awright you lookin' like that,
Terry, but iss the kid.  Nathan said on the phone he'd caught Daimey and
his mate Sean throwing up in the back garden.  Daimey had found a pack of
twenty in me coat pocket.  Well, Sean got the wrong end of the stick an'
tried to eat a filter tip ... thought it was a sweet.  Course, Daimey knew
better an' lit up.  They both spewed for England.  So Nathan said it was
high time to set an example and stop smoking.'
  Terry smirked at him.  `It had to happen, Justy.  Sooner or later,
fatherhood was going to conflict wiv your baser urges.'
  `OK, you give it up too!'
  `No chance.  I am old in vice and, in any case, I have no kid to corrupt,
do I.'
  `Life's unfair!'
  Phil tried to move things on.  `How was your day in Zenden, guys?'
  Terry shrugged.  `Not entirely pointless.  We had a meeting wiv a local
firm of investigators.  They didn't want anything to do wiv any mucking
around involving Josseran -- an' who can blame `em? -- but tracking
Willemin was a different matter.  These are good guys, I've used `em
before.  They'll start feeding me results soon.
  `So, what about your day, you two?'
  Phil filled him in on Ben's great news, while Ben fidgeted.
  Terry laughed.  `Maybe ya can hold yer office party in Orton's.  Iss just
down the road from yer premises, Benny.'
  `That might not go down too well with some of my colleagues.  But maybe
I'll start having long lunches with Davey.  My old boss worked a two-day
week.'
  `So yer will be taking it?'
  `Yes, I will.  It's a job I can do.  I suppose Phil and I must start
thinking about where to live.'
  Phil nodded.  `A flat not far from Matt and Andy's place would be nice.'
  Ben smiled.  `That's exactly what I think too.'
  Phil did not have to explain his day to Terry and Justin, since Ben's
news trumped anything he had done.  He did mention that he and Henry were
going for another jaunt the next day -- although he wasn't sure where --
while Ben was negotiating his contract with Magnamedia.

***

  For a variety of reasons, Ben and Phil slept restlessly.  At six Phil was
staring into Ben's open eyes.  `We should have had more sex before sleep.'
  Ben smiled.  `You're right.  But we stayed too long in the bar with Terry
and Justy.  I was only ready for it the once, especially as it was me
performing.'
  `I love it when you do it.  You're so long, I can't believe how it all
goes in.  I didn't know I had so much space up there.  You must unkink my
lower intestine just to fit inside me.'
  Ben looked at him earnestly.  `You do like it?'
  `Like it!  I totally love it, baby.  Er ... don't answer this if it seems
over-curious, but did you go up Alex when you and he made love?'
  Ben looked surprised at the question.  `Yes, though not very often.  He
said he didn't like it much when I played with his hole.  But we did do it.
Alex wanted me to enjoy our sex fully ... well, at least in the early
years.  He said it was only fair that I top too.'
  `Do you like it?'
  `Oh yes.  Very much.  But I like it more when you take me.  The look in
your eyes when you enter me, like you're pouring your love into me ...'
Ben gave a small smile.  `That's how it feels to me.  And if you're rough
-- which I like -- I can feel you there for much of the next day.'
  `So a sore arse reminds you that you love me.'
  `Yes indeed.  Now ... are you going to give me a token of your esteem and
affection before we get up?'
  Phil laughed as he threw off the covers and pushed back Ben's legs.
  At seven, after showering away the consequences of their passion, they
went down to an early buffet breakfast.  They loaded their plates while a
pleasant waitress poured their coffees at the table.  Phil ate his fruit
salad hungrily.  He told Ben his appetite was always good when he
travelled.  He had served himself a tall stack of toast, which vanished
while Ben watched with raised eyebrows.
  `Phil, are you eating for two?'
  `No, baby, I'm just really hungry.  It's this place.  Don't you feel it?'
  `Hmm, I suppose, though not through my stomach.  To me, it feels as
though my head is in overdrive a lot of the time, as if I had been misusing
controlled substances.'
  `Speaking of unusual sensations, a funny thing happened yesterday while I
was waiting for Henry to rejoin me.  I met this odd young man ...'  Phil
described his encounter with Elijah in the café bar in Hofbau.
  Ben gave him a close look.  `What was so odd about him?  He sounds really
nice, sweet even.'
  `It was his self-possession, baby.  He was the most together
twenty-year-old I've ever met.  I remember being twenty, and I was nothing
like that.  I was scared of my own shadow most of the time.  I hid in my
books.  Life was just too confusing.'
  Ben smiled.  `It sounds familiar.  I was exactly the same.  And when I
met people who seemed totally together -- like Matt White -- after I got to
know them better I found they were quite as confused as I was.'
  `Elijah was full of charm and humour, but you could tell it was just the
velvet around the steel glove.  You could sense a strength there.  And he
did this thing as he left.'
  `Thing?'
  `It was odd.  He looked at me with a concentrated stare that made me feel
he ... how can I say this?  As if he had taken control of me for a moment.
Very weird.'
  Ben looked at Phil expectantly, supposing there was more to come.  When
he realised there was not, he asked, `Where are you two off today?'
  `Henry said he wanted to follow up the Willemin end of things.  He's set
up a meeting this morning here in Strelzen.  He'll pick me up at eight.'
  Phil was in the foyer as Henry arrived to announce, `Did you hear
Dressner was released yesterday evening?'
  `No, it wasn't on CNN -- the only English news channel we could get --
and Terry and Justy didn't know it either.  Where is he now?'
  `He disappeared somewhere in a big black car.  Of course, he can't leave
Rothenia.  But no one at Eastnet knows where he's holed up.  Anyway, come
on Phil.  You'll enjoy this morning.  We're going to meet Willemin's fixer.
Button up your coat.  It's a bit cold out there.'

***

  Henry had not brought his car.  He said that as a Strelzen resident he
didn't want to add unnecessarily to traffic in his city, which was
considering congestion charges on cars.  He then paused, grinned and added
that also they could drink their way through lunch this way.
  `It's trams today, Phil.  There should be a number 14 on Modenehemstrasse
in just five minutes.'
  Phil did not like trams particularly, whatever their ecological
advantages.  But with Henry's help, using them was much easier.  Henry
managed the automated ticket machine for him.  They chatted amiably on the
platform about living in Rothenia, while well-wrapped-up Strelseners read
newspapers and smoked strong cigarettes around them.  Those not smoking
contributed their steaming breath to the cold air.  Phil tried not to stare
as a young lesbian couple made out just next to them, their hands exploring
inside each other's coat.
  Henry smirked.  `Yes, it's a very liberal city, is Strelzen.'
  The tram arrived, clanging its way down the road, picked them up and
moved onwards into town.  The No 14 rumbled across Rodolferplaz and along
Domstrasse with the cathedral spires rising above them on the hill of the
Old City.  It was a dramatic sight.  The tram then made a sudden right turn
southwards into Bernenstejnsgasse, the long straight road that cut through
the warren of the Third District.
  At the corner with Herrengasse, Henry prodded Phil to alight.  As the
tram clanged off on its way to the railway station, Henry looked around.
  `You know where we're supposed to be going?'
  `Umm ... I think so.  Over there!'  Henry indicated a nineteenth-century
townhouse that had been converted to offices.
  `Do you have an appointment with this guy?'
  `Not exactly, though my office was supposed to ring him first thing.  But
he's a relative of a friend, so he should see me.  I hope.  `Sides, I'm
cute and charming, everybody says so.  How could he refuse me?'
  Phil scrutinised the brass plaque.  It said KONSULTANTEN MASZKARADA ICC.
The door led into quite a plush reception area, with a designer desk, glass
tables, sofas and a chandelier.  A lacquered blond woman looked up at
Henry, did a double-take of recognition and smiled.
  `Mr At-vood,' she said in English.
  `That's me.'  The Henry smile lit up the reception like a small sun.  `My
office rang about a meeting with Niklaus zu Vinodol-Kesarstejne, one of
your directors.'
  `Yes it did.  I'm afraid Mr Vinodol-Kesarstejne is not available at this
time.  He sent his regrets.'
  `Oh, I'm so sorry.  It was quite important.  It's too bad my office
didn't convey the urgency.  We're looking to do a feature on Rothenia's new
generation of entrepreneurs.  Niklaus would be perfect: aristocratic
background, jet-set lifestyle, and an international success of a company.'
  As the receptionist mumbled apologies, Phil noticed her eyes swerve up to
the security camera opposite her desk.  He suspected they were under
surveillance by the very man to whom they were being denied access.
  Henry went on, `Then can you tell Mr Vinodol-Kesarstejne that I have a
table booking at Ribaud's for eleven-thirty?  If he could join me and my
colleague for lunch, we would be so very grateful.'
  She nodded her acquiescence.
  Back outside on Herrengasse, Henry dug his hands deep in his coat pocket
and hunched his shoulders.  `Oh well, we tried.'
  `Why was it so important to meet this guy?'
  `He's the weak link in the Willemin-Josseran-Dressner axis.  I know him,
and so does Oskar, with whom he plays squash.  They're cousins.  Oskar told
me that Niklaus used to be really close to Willemin, who provided the
initial capital for his consultancy.  Since this new scheme and the
appearance of Josseran, though, Niklaus has been squeezed out.  More than
that, he plainly disapproves of what's going on.  I'm hoping we can get him
drunk and confidential enough to leak us some hints as to what Willemin is
up to.  Oh well.  Perhaps it was a long shot.  Such is investigative
journalism.  Let's go do some tourism before lunch.'
  `Haven't you got better things to do at your office?'
  Henry smiled his little smile.  `Probably, Phil.  But you're a lot more
fun.'
  They had a good time on Mikhelstrasse, the wide commercial street running
from Rodolferplaz to Neuveplaz.  There were various new multi-level city
malls which repaid examination.  Their being heated made them a welcome
refuge from the cold November morning.  Phil browsed a number of craft
shops and found several fabrics he thought might interest Ben.  He bought a
mat and had the shopkeeper put it aside for later collection.
  Despite the cold creeping up through their shoes, they looked over the
famous city church of the Fenizenkirk-zen-Graben, theatrical in its
Austrian baroque style, which Henry said always put him in a good mood with
the world.
  `When are you never in a good mood?'
  Henry laughed.  `I have my moments, just wait.'
  Upon entering Ribaud's, Phil was deeply impressed that the maître d'hôtel
recognised him as a return visitor, ushering him and Henry to their table
as though they had been coming to the restaurant all their lives.  He
certainly knew Henry well enough to ask after Major Cornish, and did not
mistake Phil for a new love interest.
  As they were debating the starter menu, Henry suddenly rose to greet a
figure looming over the table.  Niklaus zu Vinodol-Kesarstejne was a tall,
spare man, handsome in an aquiline sort of way.  Henry shook his hand
warmly and indicated the third seat.
  `I'm glad you could come, Niklaus.'
  `I was intrigued.  And who is this?'  The man looked Phil over.
  Henry's eyes gleamed.  `Allow me to introduce an English colleague,
Jehoiadah Scudamore.'
  The aristocrat offered Phil his hand, `An unusual name, Mr ... er
... Scud-a-more.'
  `Call me Jed.'
  `I think I will, it's so much easier.  Henry I know very well, but what
do you do, Jed.'
  `Oh, I'm an investigator of sorts, Mr Vinodol-Kesarstejne.'
  `I prefer Nikki, please, both of you.  And what sort of investigator
would that be?'
  `The stubborn sort, Nikki.'
  The Rothenian laughed lightly.  He turned his attention to the menu, and
rattled off an order to the waiter who had appeared at his right hand.
Henry did so too, and Phil stumbled his way through the unfamiliar
Rothenian words, assisted by the English gloss on each dish.
  They looked at each other as the wine and water glasses were attentively
filled up by the highly efficient table staff.
  `Now Henry, you invited me, so you really should tell me what you'd like
to talk about.  You said you're interested in a feature on entrepreneurial
success stories, is that right?'
  `Yes, in part it is.'
  `So there's more?'
  `It's the particular success story of Hendrik Willemin that grips me most
at the moment.'
  Nikki looked narrowly at Henry.  `I half-expected this.  Henry, you have
me here under false pretences.  Why am I not surprised?  You really can't
expect me to talk to you about one of my major clients.'
  `That depends.  But, by all means let's talk about you.  How's business,
Nikki?'
  With a narrow and suspicious look at Henry, Nikki began what must have
been a corporate promotional talk he had given a dozen times before.
Business was apparently good.  His firm was raising contracts in Germany
and the Czech Republic.  The last year's dividends were well up on those of
the previous years.  His client base had expanded.
  The starters came and went.  They were well into the main course and a
second bottle of a rather fine red Tavelner when Henry gave his little
smile.  `So why aren't you happy, Nikki?'
  The aristocrat stared coolly at Henry over the rim of his wineglass.  He
fenced.  `Is this a counselling session, Henry?'
  `It's so obvious.  You're anxious and you're even a bit desperate.'
  Nikki turned away from Henry and gave Phil a considering look.  `Mr
Scud-a-more, what can you contribute to this discussion?'
  Phil caught the glance Henry shot at him.  He felt oddly relaxed, and he
didn't put that down entirely to the excellent wine they were drinking.
His insouciant smile would have done Terry credit.  `I have an interest in
a Mr Dressner.  Do you know him?'
  Nikki momentarily lost it.  Expressions of mingled annoyance and
apprehension shot across his face before he could recover his composure.
They had him.  He hated Dressner.
  `I have heard of him of course.  Who could not at this time when he is so
much in the news.'
  `I have reason to know he is a very dangerous man.'  Phil leaned forward.
`I think you know that too.'
  Nikki poured more wine.  `What do you want from me?'
  Henry's smile had not wavered.  `Information -- that's what Jed and I
deal in -- not a lot of information, just enough to help us find out things
on our own.'  He paused, and committed himself.  `It's about trafficking in
people, isn't it?  Modern slavery?'
  As soon as Henry said it, Nikki's reaction told Phil they were on the
wrong track.  Nikki bit his lip to hide a little grin while he sipped on
his wine.  `Were I to tell you something, it must never get out that I
had.'
  `Of course.'
  `You have powerful friends Henry, I know that.'
  `Yes, I do.'
  `Then be warned.  Even your powerful friends may not be able to protect
you from the likes of Dressner.  You see, he has nothing now to lose.  You
made sure of that.  I keep well away from him.  But ... if you really do
want to find his trail, then it's to Kaleczyk you must go.'
  Henry twitched an eyebrow.  `Kaleczyk?'
  `That's what I said, and that's all I'll say.'  Nikki rose and placed his
rumpled napkin on the table.  `I shall not stay for dessert.  If something
comes of your investigation, perhaps you may be so good as to remember at a
later time that I assisted you.'
  Henry stood and nodded.  They all shook hands and Nikki left.  Henry sat
and looked meditatively at Phil.  `Dessert?'
  `Where's Kaleczyk?' Phil replied.
  `I really don't know, though I've heard the name somewhere.'
  `And why did you pick that weird alias for me?'
  `What?  Jehoiadah Scudamore?'  Henry laughed.  `It's the name of a very
old friend of mine.  I picked it for luck, really.  Jehoiadah and I go way
back.'
  `Boyfriend?'
  `I wish.  No, it's quite a story, but one for long winter nights.'
  `Henry, you can be very mysterious at times.'
  `Part of my charm, Phil.  Now, dessert?'