Roskov book 18, p.1
Roskov, Book 18, page 1
Ricky Roskov
Book 18
Copyright © Geoff Wolak
This book is a work of fiction, technically accurate in the detail of geographical locations, and the time period history. It is young adult romance, conspiracy and murder-mystery.
My mother’s cooking
I stepped into my parents’ house as the sun was setting, the place now looking very much like a local Corsican house, the ones that I saw in the city. They turned their heads, the worry evident. ‘Leo and his girl are OK, we found them, just … that they need some new underwear and a good night’s rest.’
‘Where did they go?’ my mother asked.
‘They … were kidnapped.’
‘Oh my god,’ my mother let out, accidentally banging down the plate she had in her hand, my father stepping closer.
‘They’re alright?’ he asked, the worry etched into his face.
‘They’re shaken up but unharmed, so don’t worry, and … they may have a better relationship afterwards, you know, a common ordeal shared and all that – the strong smell of urine enhancing a blossoming love. Anyway, get the bleeding kettle on, eh, I’ve been stood here an hour.’
My father got the kettle on as my mother asked questions of Leo and his ordeal, but I was evading the questions. We finally sat facing the large patio doors, a view of the distant ocean but with no cold wind to annoy us.
I finally stated, ‘This place is looking homely at last.’
My father keenly responded, ‘We have it as we want it, busy with the new houses as well, builders and decorators contracted. That keeps us busy a few days a week.’
‘Good, you’d be bored otherwise.’
‘We … avoid the TV news now,’ my father delicately broached.
‘Just as well, but don’t worry about me – I was reincarnated for a purpose, a short life ahead of me, then maybe I come back. That’s something we all have to accept - and live with.’
‘Not easy,’ my mother complained.
I slowly turned my head to her. ‘You two were chosen to raise me, out of the billions of parents on the planet, so you’re the right parents. You just need to find that inner strength.’
I stood, walked to a pot of plants that were wilting and I gave the plants there some energy, the previously brown stems soon green, the flowers upright and bright in colour.
‘My god,’ my father let out. ‘How did you do that?’
‘I borrow the power of an angel,’ I told him as I sat. ‘So worry about me less. Is Michelle slowing down now that she’s pregnant?’
‘No,’ my mother complained. ‘But I have had words with her.’
‘I’ll have words with her as well,’ I suggested as I took in the view. ‘Did you stop working?’
‘I stopped my full time work at five months, then part time to eight months, sat down.’
I smiled. ‘Did you want a girl?’
‘I did, yes,’ she admitted.
‘When I finally settle with the twins they’ll produce two girls each, identical. That will be four babies to dump on you.’
‘We’d need some help,’ my father began. ‘But we’d love to look after them.’
‘You’ll have Michelle’s baby to look after I think, six or seven months from now. She’ll be back in work in a week.’
‘I was back in work after a month, bored at home, and the lady next door looked after you cheaply.’
‘Nana Thompson,’ I remembered.
‘She died when you were three years old, we told you she was on holiday,’ my mother reminded me.
‘What did she die of?’ I puzzled.
‘Sudden heart attack, she was sixty.’
‘I remember the smell of cigarettes…’
‘She had a sneaky cigarette once a day,’ my mother responded.
‘Who was the man with brown fingers that stank of smoke?’
My father lifted his head, ‘Ah, Teddy, my workmate, died of cancer – no surprise there; he smoked two packs a day. Bonza once kicked a ball through his window.’
I smiled. ‘Sounds just like Bonza.’
‘We visited Frances House and had a look around,’ my father told me. ‘Fantastic place, and so unlike a nursing home.’
‘That’s the whole point, to make the guests comfortable and happy, not miserable. Could you see yourselves going there one day?’
‘We’d have a ball, so yes – if we were sick,’ my father answered.
‘You have twenty years before that day comes,’ I told them. ‘This house comfy?’
‘Feels like home now,’ my mother responded. ‘Don’t think of the old place, and in the new place we never stayed long.’
‘It’s as you left it. Any desires for a visit?’
They exchanged looks. ‘Well, not really,’ my mother replied.
‘When the summer season is here you can use the new holiday village.’
‘We will, yes, we’ll try some tennis as well,’ my father suggested.
‘You’re both looking well…’
‘We drink the spring water, yes,’ my father confirmed. ‘And we feel great.’
‘Good, keep at it.’
‘We sometimes walk up the hill a few miles, great view down,’ my father enthused. ‘We keep fit.’
I nodded. ‘Don’t worry about Leo, he’s been reincarnated more times than I have, he knows the game and he knows the risks.’
‘He sounds odd sometimes,’ my mother noted. ‘Like he’s a hundred years old.’
‘He’s about … twelve hundred years old,’ I told them.
‘We went up to the dam the other day, saw drawings of what it might look like when ready,’ my father began. ‘You’ll build a village up there?’
‘A few hotels, a few nursing homes, and a small town.’
‘Ingrid House looks to be just about ready, some staff living in there already they said.’
I nodded absently. ‘Be good to fill that valley with nursing homes, make some old French pensioners happy.’
My mother complained, ‘That old French idiot, Henri the actor, he’s been brought back by the police six times!’
I laughed. ‘I hope I can do that when I’m seventy. So … are you cooking for your only son or what?’
Before bed I called Ross Daniels. ‘I gave your security men and my invisible men some credit for the Tigenheart investigation, so … let’s do what we say we can do. Recruit a few British men, good men, a few other nationalities, and let’s set them investigating a few crooks, as well as a few priests.’
‘I can do that, I know some good teams.’
‘I want a back-dated paper trail, vague but provable, sub-contractors paid - just that we don’t quite know what they did or what their methods are.’
‘I’ll create a false trail back a year.’
‘Then have them start with any scandal of your choice in Europe that you think I may take an interest in.’
‘There’s a Belgian bank linked to the Vatican and the mafia.’
‘Good place to start. Go spend some money for me.’
In the morning I walked down to the beach alone, the water dead calm, and it looked like it would be a nice day, the weather here improving rapidly, but they only suffered a short winter here anyhow.
The large pebbles made the place look great, and a dozen new palm trees were now in place. Stood on the sand, tiny waves broke in front of me, a gentle soothing sound created, an idyllic beach scene and a great antidote to the stresses that I often felt.
I felt a tingle, suddenly alert, and a white-haired old man appeared on my right about ten yards away, dressed oddly in a white kaftan, as if he was a hippy Western tourist in Morocco.
A glance at him, and I returned to studying the waves, well aware of just what he was.
He began, ‘I’m Mazeen, and … I was wondering if it would be OK to approach you and … see what happens.’
I turned my head to him, knowing that I had a golden cross in my pocket. ‘You’d hit a barrier a few feet away, but it won’t harm you.’
He walked slowly towards me till he was knocked back. ‘Ooohh, that tingles, not pleasant at all. And it comes as a shock because I thought that I knew everything. And yet here I stand, not knowing what that barrier is.
‘And apparently there’s a woman living inside of you, a very powerful entity, something else that I never knew about until recently.’
‘She was in The Ark these past three thousand years, protecting it, punishing the unworthy, and she can kill an angel.’
‘That’s a worry, for an immortal being – at least one that used to think that he was immortal.’
‘You spoke to Gabrial then...’ I nudged.
‘I did, he came to me, since I guess that I’m the closest thing he has to a friend, and he does not make friends easily, nor want the company. He wondered if I could help him with his wounds, but I was unable to assist.’
‘How badly hurt is he?’
‘If he was human … then he would have lost an arm and have third-degree burns on his upper body.’
‘Painful.’
‘Yes, and a shock to an angel, one that previously considered himself immortal and all-powerful. And coming so soon after you destroyed his little empire and cruelly banned him from his favourite jazz bars.’
‘And what do you do … Mazeen?’
‘Do?’
‘Do you have a purpose, or are you just a waste of good energy?’
He did not seem to like my question. ‘I fix things in a small way, as I believe we’re suppos ed to do, and in that I differ from Gabrial.’
‘And you see eye-to-eye with Laz?’
‘No one … sees eye-to-eye with Lazahroz,’ he quipped.
I smiled. ‘I would guess not, no.’
‘But I do not kill humans for fun. I punish a few, kill a few criminals, yes, but that’s for the greater good, not to be … a waste of energy as you put it.’
I faced him squarely. ‘I’m not sure why I was reincarnated, not exactly, but I’m now sure that part of the reason was to deal with angels like Gabby and to rein you in.’
He did not like that last part, not like it at all.
I added, ‘I have the tools to hurt you, and to kill you, and … I would not have those tools unless they were meant to be used.’ I waited.
‘No, you were handed them for a reason. A human does not suddenly develop the ability to harm an angel by chance.’
‘So … will you be on my side in the future, or an adversary?’ I pressed.
‘To be an adversary would be to ignore the most obvious signs sent by God in a few thousand years. It would be like building a house on the side of a volcano as it spews lava – damn stupid and done in the face of the obvious pending doom.’
‘And yet Gabby cannot see the volcano…’
‘Gabby does not want … to see the volcano. There’s a difference.’
‘Where do you live?’ I asked.
‘Singapore, for the most part, where I help to innovate. I was instrumental in early advances in ancient China.’
‘Mezzi seems like a nice angel.’
‘He is … more sedate than some of the others, yes.’
‘Did Laz ever have lessons in diplomacy?’
He laughed loudly. ‘I think you know the answer to that one.’
‘And do you and Laz … do you get along?’ I pressed.
He shrugged. ‘As well as any others.’
‘Powerful beings … yet you can’t even sit down to chat.’ I shook my head at him. ‘Perhaps us apes down from the trees have one small advantage over you after all, that ability to form groups and to cooperate with each other.
‘It’s our greatest strength and our biggest weakness, that tendency to form useful groups and then hate the other groups for no good reason.’
‘You’re way smarter than most, I can see why you were chosen.’
‘Visit when you wish, and you and me – we can sit and have a cup of tea and discuss the world, not least because I value good advice.’
He studied me for a moment. ‘A cup of tea it will be then, some advice to dispense.’ A piece of paper appeared in his hand then floated across to me.
Grabbing it, it contained a list of stock market companies soon to face takeovers. ‘Does this fall into the category of … being a sin?’
‘I will not tell if you do not,’ he said with a grin, and he vanished.
Walking back up, I called Lee Tong. It would be mid-afternoon in Malaysia now.
‘Mister Roskov?’
‘Yes. Got a paper and pen?’
‘Moment. OK.’
I listed the companies. ‘All of those companies will be taken over soon - so it’s claimed, so do some research and then buy some stock, and then send me some money.’
‘I will look at these stocks now,’ came from an excited man.
Next call was Ross Daniels, but instead of the call going to his office it woke him. ‘Sorry I woke you, I figured it would divert.’
‘It should have done. What’s wrong?’
‘Got a paper and pen?’
‘Shoot.’
I listed the seven stocks. ‘They’ll all be taken over soon – so it’s claimed, so be very discreet.’
‘Where’d you get the intel?’
‘A little birdy told me. Get on it, but … very discretely. And check them out first.’
‘I got some coffee to make! We got the game on!’ He cut the call.
Up at reception, Michelle had just arrived, and she looked as cute as ever. I told her, ‘I want a second row of palm trees. At the moment they’re about ten feet apart, and that’s good, so I want the second row behind them and with the same spacing.
‘Then I want that black plastic netting that blocks most of the sun, hung up in squares between four trees, the grass underneath made flat and good, sun loungers placed there, and people can picnic there or lay there.’
‘Be nice in summer, there’s no shelter from the hot sun, and I said we need something down there in July and August.’
‘Rig them up when the days get hot,’ I suggested. ‘Take them down in winter. How long does it take you to drive in?’
‘Not long, one long straight road here, not much traffic ever, so I can do it in ten minutes.’
‘Dave settled in?’
‘He’s busy coming up with ideas, and he’s booked your Sunrise Villa for half the summer season already, and they pay at least fifteen hundred Euro a week, more in high season.’
‘Leave a week for me, eh.’
‘We’ve taken bookings already for the new apartments, and the smaller villas. At this rate they’ll be booked solid soon.’
‘How many palm trees are there available?’ I wondered.
‘There’s a hillside here full of them, various sizes, been growing for like twenty years.’
‘Grab some for the holiday village as well, line the main road but spaced out, keep the view for the apartments,’ I suggested.
After a cup of tea with Bill and Ted in the villa, Bonza walked in. ‘I saw Leo, he’s … kind of OK, at least his body is.’
I stood, closed the distance and jabbed a finger into his chest. ‘I told you to arrange some security! And in case it slipped your fucking mind we’re in a war! With a fucking angel and his men.
‘You used to be the soldier in our group, so start thinking like one again before you get someone killed. Practise your moves, keep fit, have lessons, and get some weapons work in with Carter till you’re an expert, because next time you’ll be stood over the dead body of someone you care about.’
He lowered his head.
‘Get back on the horse, sword and shield in hand!’ I told him. ‘The fucking battle is not over yet.’
‘I’ll … get back into training, yeah.’
‘Wear the gold, and look out for strangers, especially anyone that shivers near you when wearing the gold.’ I turned to Bill. ‘Teach him blocks and holds, and pistol.’
Bill nodded.
I turned back to Bonza. ‘Start thinking like the old Bonza, sand and blood. Stop enjoying yourself.’
‘Sand and blood.’ He nodded, appearing apologetic, and he left us.
Up at the dam site an hour later I met my business partner.
‘Ah, Ricky, we make good money from the palladium, we pay for all this already.’
‘Good to know.’ I took in the busy and messy construction site, hoping that one day it would look nice. ‘Get a man, a surveyor, and look for natural viewpoints, and then make a basic road to them from the main road, then a good road and some benches for people to sit on.
‘When this valley has nursing home residents and people having a holiday here we’ll want nice places for them to visit – places with a view.’
He pointed west. ‘Here is a good place, and above it a mile; I will make the road and a nice car park.’
‘Pick out two places for large nursing homes, good views, then a place for a village of rich people, then a lake hotel.’
‘There is one place, and when the lake is flooded it will be best for water sports, and we can put sand in the water - it is shallow there, and people can swim.’
I nodded at that and took in the view north and the distant mountain peaks. ‘The road down to us from the main highway…’
‘They start on tarmac soon, and they start on a sub-station for the electric.’
‘The sealant used to stop leaks…’
He made a face. ‘It will be difficult and expensive, we will lose some water, these rocks have holes.’
‘A helicopter spraying?’ I floated.
‘Yes, I think of that as well. But we need men with trucks spraying, a hundred such men for a month. Liquid concrete will be cheaper; we pour up high and it runs down and seals the cracks.’
‘They can make a start on that now, the summer season is coming, the water level will be low.’
‘I make a start soon,’ he assured me.
‘Get the fat American involved, to set off charges and to look at what’s under the rocks, to find the cracks and underground caverns - and we’ll try to seal them maybe. That may save time.’
