The Venetian Series 01: When the Masks Come Off in Venice

Helmut used his phone to send a courier to Acquati's home to pick up the second prospectus. Then at 10:00 AM on the dot, Helmut seated himself across from Bedrich at the cafe and ordered an espresso from the attentive waiter. Bedrich looked at him expectantly.

"I found out a few things," said Helmut. "There's a company called HighPacific. It trades in futures for raw materials. It's well capitalized, but some people want to stage a hostile takeover, which could happen if something disrupted the relationship of their top shareholders. There are four of those: Mr. Bob Cole, Till Acquati using a consortium as a mask, and two others, Pennington and O'Shaughnessy. So it looks like Acquati would want to keep things stable, right?"

"It would seem so."

"But that's not the game he's playing. Do you know what financial derivatives are?"

"I've heard of them."

"They are fancy wagers, made with very large sums of money. Acquati is betting against his own company."

"So if Mr. Cole dies?"

"Acquati wins big." Helmut paused. "I think we ought to get local law enforcement involved in this."

"Do you have any contacts?"

"I have one. I don't think he will help us."

"Who is it?"

"Antonio Durante. He thinks that Acquati is clean."

"No, he doesn't."

"What?" Helmut thought that he had misheard.

"Antonio Durante's division has been investigating Acquati for years."

"You know him?"

"Of course."

"So then, why did he tell me that Acquati was not crossing the line?"

"Because he doesn't like foreign cops. He's afraid they will compromise his investigation."

"Shit. How are we going to get him to work with us?"

"Don't worry. I know him. Meet me at his office at noon. I have something that I need to do."

At noon, Helmut was once again surrounded by bedlam in the office of theGuardia di Finanza, waiting to see Durante, and there was no sign of Bedrich. He looked anxiously at his watch. The man at the front desk called his name, and ushered him into the inner sanctum of Lieutenant Durante, who was looking somewhat less than dapper in his usual gray suit.

Durante looked at him glumly. "Ah, yes, Mr. Delker, how are you doing."

"Well, Lieutenant Durante, I have uncovered a few things..."

"Yes, and are you still, yes, investigating Mr. Till Acquati?"

Helmut was groping for some way to buy time, when there came a knock at the door, and Bedrich made his entrance, somewhat out of breath. He and Lieutenant Durante greeted each other like old friends and chattered away in very rapid Italian, which was impossible for Helmut to follow. He waited somewhat impatiently for them to finish. Then Lieutenant Durante addressed him.

"Ah, yes, Mr. Delker, very excellent research, will you please tell me the name of this company, yes, and the big shareholders."

"No problem. The company is HighPacific..." Durante was writing. "The shareholders are Cole, O'Shaughnessy, Pennington, and a shadow grouping that is a front for Mr. Acquati."

"Ah, yes, very good, thank you." And with that, Durante launched into another torrent of Italian with Bedrich until they evidently came to an understanding and were prepared to part company. Durante turned again to Helmut, smiled warmly, and shook his hand. "Appreciating your very good work, Mr. Delker. Thanks very much again."

Helmut and Bedrich left the office together and walked along the canal. It was a hot day with a stiff breeze. Bedrich's gray hair was fluttering about his head. The boats were churning the waters and the world seemed like it was in a hurry.

"What was that all about?" asked Helmut.

"Well... it seems that Lieutenant Durante's office has been doing the same work that you and I have done. They knew about the bravo, but they didn't know the reason, or the target. They are convinced that the deed will be done tomorrow night, at the masked ball of Michela da Rimini."

"I will be attending that ball."

Bedrich chuckled. "Yes... so will I."

Just then a man approached them and greeted Bedrich in a familiar fashion, speaking in Italian. He was of moderate stature with thinning hair, a bushy mustache, and a pleasant demeanor.

Switching to English, Bedrich said, "Helmut, allow me to introduce a friend of mine, Marco Acedo. He's the city planner for Venice. Marco, this is my friend Helmut."

Marco bowed deferentially and said, "Pleased to meeting you. How you like Venice?"

Helmut assured him that he liked Venice very well. Not entirely comfortable with English, Marco continued:

"I hope you visit pleasantly." Then, a little defeated by this effort to communicate, he switched to Italian once more and spoke rapidly to Bedrich. He then bowed politely once more, and took his leave.

Helmut asked Bedrich, "What did he say?"

"He's excited because he got invited to the Halloween ball of Signora da Rimini. He says he has received a costume as a gift, which will frighten everyone tremendously."

"He doesn't seem like a very frightening individual."

Bedrich shook his head sadly. "He's not. He's a very capable man, a good city planner, but Venice is not right for him. He came from Florence, that suits him more."

"Why isn't Venice right for him?"

"He's too gentle, too kind. This city will hurt him in the end."

The two of them walked along the canal in silence as the the wind tousled their hair, and the motorboats buzzed frantically by. At length, Helmut spoke again.

"Do you believe that they would carry out an assassination at a party with so many people? Why not do it somewhere quietly?"

Bedrich laughed and said enigmatically, "Because people in this city believe in preserving certain traditions."

Helmut and Rodica sat together in the neighborhood restaurant, enjoying plates of spaghetti with clam sauce that were brilliantly illuminated by the fluorescent lights overhead. Rodica leaned toward Helmut and spoke in confidential tones.

"I don't think you should go to the masked ball."

"Why not?"

"Because they don't need you. The police will be there. I think it is dangerous."

"I need to know what happens. I am responsible for making a report."

"You can find out later."

"Rodica, I need to get as much information first hand as possible. I can take care of myself."

Rodica looked melancholy for a moment, then tried a different tack. She smiled, raised her eyebrows and said, "You can have more fun with me."

Helmut smiled back. "Probably. But I have to do my job. Could I have more fun with you afterward?"

Rodica sighed and smiled. "Yes." She paused for a moment. The melancholy was returning to her expression. "Helmut, when it is finished, you go back to Germany?"

"I don't know. I'll go where my agency sends me."

"I think there are many financial criminals here for you to catch."

"Well, I only catch the international ones."

Rodica smiled hopefully. "I think they are all international here."

They had finished their dinner. Helmut settled the bill, and they began to walk along the canal back toward Rodica's apartment. As they reached the darkened alley where they had had their encounter a few nights earlier, Rodica turned to Helmut with a gleam in her eyes, took his hand, and led him once again into the shadows.

It was dark there, and the only sound was that of their footsteps and the water lapping the walls of the nearby canal. The smell of the sea enveloped them. She pushed him against the side of building, then pulled her top up to expose her breasts, which she aimed upward at his face. Helmut gasped, then leaned down to take her nipples, one after the other, into his mouth. She pressed her breasts against his face as she worked with nimble fingers to undo his trousers.

Helmut's trousers fell, and Rodica bent to capture his stiff cock between her breasts. He reached down to help her, pressing her soft flesh against his shaft while finding her nipples and tormenting them between his fingertips. Suddenly he spun their two bodies around so that Rodica was standing with her back to the wall. He reached under her dress for her panties and discovered that she wore none. Instead, his hand came directly into contact with her shaved and sopping cunt.

Helmut groaned her name, then seized her thighs and lifted her up so that he could penetrate her. Using the wall for stability, the two of them began to move together, maddened by the exquisite sensation of her clit being dragged along the top of his cock. Behind them, there were footsteps, which they disregarded in their headlong rush toward their mutual climax. They both cried aloud; the footsteps receded into the distance.

They remained in their stance of love, with Rodica's back braced to the wall and her legs hooked behind Helmut's. After a minute, she chuckled softly and whispered, "I wonder that was someone I know?"

Helmut whispered back to her, "Now we'll never find out."

"That is truth. Gone forever. We go to my house and fuck some more, OK?"

Helmut had spent some time Saturday afternoon shopping for a mask at some of Venice's famed mask emporia, and had settled upon a harlequin model, an expressionless face with diamond-shaped patches of sky blue, crimson, maize and burgundy. He held it in his lap as he rode the taxi to the residence of Michela da Rimini.

Helmut knew he would be flying blind that night. On the phone, Lieutenant Durante had agreed to be his liaison at the affair, but that was as far as it went -- whatever was to occur would be orchestrated and conducted by theGuardia di Finanza, and Helmut wouldn't know what it was until it happened. Helmut was to look for the man in the fox mask, which would presumably be Lieutenant Durante. Of course, there might be more than one fox at Michela's party.

The taxi driver informed him that they were nearing his destination, and Helmut donned his mask.

His taxi dropped him in the circular driveway of a very large, impressive and brightly-lit dwelling, He was greeted at the door by a woman wearing a rather daring gown and a butterfly mask. Helmut thought that he recognized the tan, and the voice confirmed that it was indeed Michela herself who was greeting him.

"Chi sei? Who are you? Oh, Mr. Pagel!" She added flirtatiously, "I intend topersonally see to it that you enjoy yourself tonight!" and to his surprise, gave his left buttock a gentle squeeze as he passed her into the residence.

Once inside, he felt bewildered by the dazzling array of masks and costumes. Helmut had satisfied himself with a mask, and was otherwise wearing his street clothing. But some guests were in full Venetian regalia, from 18th century finery to otherworldly fantasy. Behind his own mask, Helmut's mouth was hanging open, when suddenly a figure in a frog mask appeared at his side.

"Good evening, Helmut." The voice and the accent were familiar. It was Bedrich, who seemed to know him even in a harlequin mask.

"Hello. This is going to take some getting used to," Helmut replied.

"I've lived here for 50 years. I'm starting to get used to it. Follow me for a moment, Helmut."

Helmut followed Bedrich to a hallway without much traffic. Bedrich removed his mask, and Helmut followed suit.

Bedrich said, "Durante is here. I'll point him out later. He has a half-dozen men with him, all in costume. I don't know who they are. They believe that the bravo is here, too. He is said to be wearing the mask of a plague doctor. Do you know what that is?"

Helmut nodded. He had seen photos of the ominous-looking headgear, with its empty goggle eyes and vulture's beak. The mask had actually been worn by doctors during times of pestilence; the beak contained aromatic herbs for supposed protection, because it was believed that contagion was transmitted by the stench of the dead.

"They plan to keep both the bravo and Mr. Cole under close surveillance, and move in when the bravo is ready to strike. Cole is wearing a bull's head mask. He is a man who likes to enjoy a party. I have not yet seen Acquati, but I believe that he will be here."

"That's what he told me."

"OK. So now we wait."

The two once again assumed their masks and began to circulate. After 20 minutes or so, Bedrich once again materialized to escort Helmut to the kitchen, where he briefly exchanged pleasantries with Lieutenant Durante, a fox wearing a rumpled gray suit.

Out in the main area once again, Helmut was able to identify Bob Cole from his bull mask, his short, stocky physique, and his want of a neck. Cole was apparently in the advanced stages of inebriation and was accompanied by two women, both of whom had attained such a level of Halloween spirit that they had elected to bare their breasts. They were not alone in this matter; many of the guests had begun to shed various articles of clothing. One woman, who wore a shiny metal and rhinestone mask across her eyes and nothing else, was sprawled across an elegant 19th Century sofa, enjoying the simultaneous caresses of two men and one woman.

Then, from the corner of his eye, Helmut spotted someone with the mask of the plague doctor. Despite his training and experience, Helmut felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up as he contemplated the rather ghastly visage he believed to be that of the masked bravo. He was about to search for Bedrich to make him aware of the presence of the man, when at the entrance to the main ballroom, he spied another individual wearing a similar mask, differently proportioned, but unmistakably that of a plague doctor.

Were there two bravos? Was one of the two wearing the mask purely by coincidence? Before Helmut could further consider the problem, he was accosted by a tall man in an owl mask.

"Excuse me -- do you speak English?" the man asked urgently.

"Yes, I do," replied Helmut.

"Oh, what a relief," replied the other, and removed his mask. It was Jason Bowman, the U.S. Consul. Helmut removed his own mask as well. "Oh, Mr. Pagel! Thank god. Listen, have you seen my wife?"

"No, I haven't seen her, but then again, everyone here is wearing a mask."

"You would notice her. She's wearing the mask of a black cat, and she has a leather suit that matches it."

"Sorry, I haven't seen a black cat. Is she all right?" It occurred to Helmut that he had not seen Acquati, either. The two of them seemed to know each other rather well.

"I don't know. We were supposed to meet here some hours ago. Normally she would call if there was a problem."

"If I hear anything, Mr. Bowman, I'll find you and let you know."

Helmut continued into a side parlor, found it empty, and was turning to leave when he heard the door close and saw that he was alone with Michela da Rimini in her butterfly mask. The mask left the lower part of her face exposed, and she was smiling effusively.

"Well, Mr. Pagel! We meet again!" She was slurring her words.

"Hello, Signora. I have a question for you, there may be some problem."

"Can't it wait?" Her eyes gleamed at him from the openings in her mask, and she had brought one of her perfectly shaped, well-tanned breasts out of her low cut gown. She offered it to him with her left hand, stroking her erect nipple with her thumb.

"Well... Signora... it may be important."

She looked disappointed. With a trace of impatience in her voice, she asked, "Very well, what is it?"

"Have you by any chance seen Heather Bowman?"

"Heather Bowman?" Michela seemed confused.

"The wife of Jason Bowman."

"Oh! Sorry, I've been drinking a little." She leered at him hopefully. Then she continued, "She doesn't use his name. She has kept her maiden name, Heather O... O'Shaughnessy."

The words hit Helmut like a two-by-four across the shoulder blades. He mumbled an excuse and rushed past Michela, opening the door. He shot out into the heart of the revelry to search for Bedrich or Lieutenant Durante.

Helmut went from room to room, looking in vain amongst the hordes of costumed (and increasingly un-costumed) bacchants. Suddenly he heard a disturbance in a room behind him. He rushed to the door, and burst in upon a remarkable scene.

On a bed along the wall sat two naked women, facing each other. After a moment, Helmut recognized them as the companions of Bob Cole, who himself was lying on his back beneath them, as the two sat on his face and his cock respectively. A number of burly men in clown masks were standing there, having taken into custody a man wearing the mask of a plague doctor. Just as Helmut arrived, they were searching him for weapons and had come up empty-handed. Now they were in the process of unmasking him. As the mask came off, it exposed the face of Marco Acedo, the mild-mannered city planner. He looked petrified with fear.

Bedrich arrived seconds later, and Helmut heard him curse in Czech. Helmut related urgently to him what he had discovered about Heather O'Shaughnessy. Bedrich swore with added emphasis. Just then Lieutenant Durante arrived and removed his fox head. Bedrich took him aside and briefed him in Italian, whereupon Durante threw his arms in the air and stalked out of the room.

Bedrich took Helmut's elbow and said to him, "We might as well go. This party is over for us."

Sunday morning, Helmut saw the news on the TV in his hotel room. The body of Heather O'Shaughnessy had been recovered from the Grand Canal. Helmut knew that in a week or two he would be reading in the business pages about the hostile takeover of HighPacific. He had received a call that morning from his agency's headquarters in Wiesbaden, calling him back for a debriefing, one that he knew would not be pleasant.

Helmut had given much thought to the letter he was about to write to Rodica. But before he could set pen to paper, he received a call on the hotel phone, informing him that a courier had arrived and left a message for him at the front desk. A bellhop was on his way up with the message. After a minute or two, there was a knock on the door. Helmut opened it, accepted the letter from the bellhop, tipped him and dismissed him. Then he opened the letter and read the following:

"Dear Mr. Delker,

"I am taking the liberty of using your real name, now that we are better acquainted. I'm sorry to have missed the festivities last night at the home of Signora da Rimini, but I was called away on urgent business. If you still wish to seek my advice regarding derivatives trading, I am at your service. Unfortunately, I will not be available for another face-to-face meeting until the coming year, due to a very busy schedule. It was a pleasure to make your acquaintance. I hope that you found your stay in Venice both pleasant and educational. Let's stay in touch.

"Best regards,
Till Acquati."

Gentle readers, if you have enjoyed my tale of skullduggery, I hope that you will remember that it is a contest entry. All I ask is that you locate the row of stars below these words, and click on the star that is labeled "5". Thanks very much for reading.