In Guards We Trust Page 12

  Chapter 10 – The Clock Tower

  An opportunity to set up a ‘chance’ meeting with Luciano Monteverdi presented itself a few days after Jason’s lunch at the palace. The duke sent word to Jason advising that Monteverdi was a collector of fine art who was apparently particularly keen on the paintings of the Dutch master, Van der Kant. As fortune would have it, Van der Kant’s celebrated Clock Tower masterpiece was up for auction in the impressive central auditorium of the Monte Vista Trade Centre at eleven o’clock that morning. Armed with funds provided by the king’s treasury, Jason registered for the auction.

  Monteverdi’s name was third on the list of twelve bidders who had registered. Jason took a seat at one of the round tables at the side of the auditorium. He sat facing the rows of seats immediately in front of the auctioneer. Jason was looking for a well-dressed short, stout man with thinning black hair and a wispy black moustache. A man fitting this description sat in the second row in front of the auctioneer. It had to be Monteverdi. Jason’s suspicions were confirmed when he noticed that the man held a baton bearing the number three. Monteverdi’s posture was visibly pensive. Jason was able to notice fine beads of sweat running down the side of his face. Monteverdi’s made several futile attempts to utilise his catalogue as a fan as several beads of sweat formed into thin streams flowing down the side of his face.

  Monteverdi seemed to pay no attention to the other bidders as the auction of the painting commenced. He did not even bother to bid. Jason had attended enough auctions to know that the serious bidders often waited for some of the others to be priced out of contention before they entered the fray. Only when it became clear that the field had reduced itself to three serious contenders did Monteverdi first look at Jason. His face creased a little and he turned his head slightly to one side. Monteverdi then acknowledged his bidding rival with a slight nod, and Jason returned the courtesy. Almost simultaneously, Jason and Monteverdi jointly focused their attention upon the third bidder who was sitting directly opposite Jason on the far side of the hall. The bidder was a reasonably well-dressed man in his late fifties. However, it soon became apparent that the third contender was taking instructions from someone in the elevated gallery. The mystery contender in the gallery had resorted to wearing a green mask in order to conceal his or her identity.

  ‘I have twenty-five thousand from number two. Do I hear twenty-six thousand from number three or number nine?’

  ‘Twenty-six thousand five hundred,’ Jason announced loudly as he waived his number nine at the auctioneer. Jason had taken to adding the occasional five hundred or thousand franc increment to the bid invited by the auctioneer. He could afford to do so since the funds involved were not his own. Monteverdi frowned and simultaneously shifted about awkwardly in his seat. Jason took this as a sign that he was probably close to his pre-set limit. In sharp contrast, the third bidder’s representative’s deadpan expression remained unchanged in response to the increased increments of Jason’s bids. You’re also playing with someone else’s money - that’s why - thought Jason. The face to look at was seated in the gallery. Unfortunately that face remained masked and the mask revealed nothing at all.

  ‘Thirty-seven thousand from number nine. Do I have thirty eight-thousand from number three or number two?’

  The auctioneer glanced in Monteverdi’s direction. Jason’s earlier hunch that Monteverdi’s participation was nearing its end turned out to be correct. Monteverdi shook his head dejectedly. Jason wondered if the king would permit him to keep the painting if his bid prevailed. The question soon became academic.

  ‘Do I have thirty-eight thousand from number two?’ The elderly gentleman glanced up at the gallery and the masked figure nodded slowly. The elderly gentlemen raised his number.

  ‘Thirty-eight thousand from number two. Do I hear thirty-nine thousand from numbers three or nine? Thirty-nine thousand? Anyone? Going once! Going twice! Sold to number two for thirty-eight thousand francs. Congratulations to you sir!’ As he offered his congratulations, the auctioneer gestured in the direction of the elderly gentleman. The auctioneer then looked up to the gallery in an apparent attempt to congratulate the painting’s new owner. However, to auctioneer’s surprise, and to that of Jason’s, the masked victor had already vacated his or her seat in the gallery.’

  ‘Who was that person? Do you know?’ inquired an Italian sounding voice alongside Jason. It belonged to Monteverdi. As Jason turned to him Monteverdi’s expression became apologetic. ‘You must please forgive me. My manners are terrible. I am annoyed at the loss of the wonderful painting and not knowing who will be the new owner is enough to make the monkey to bite its mama.’ He paused to compose himself. ‘I am Luciano Monteverdi.’

  ‘Delighted to make your acquaintance, I’m sure. I am Jason Cavendish.’ Jason shook Monteverdi’s outstretched hand.

  ‘Surely you mean Lord Cavendish.’ Monteverdi grinned knowingly at Jason.

  ‘You know who I am? Pardon me if I have forgotten, but have we encountered each other on a previous occasion?’

  ‘I think not. But I know who you are. I am the solicitor practising in the maritime and the commercial law here in Monte Vista. It is my business to know who are the major players doing the business here at the trade centre.’ He hesitated as if pondering whether to proceed with his next sentence. ‘If you don’t mind me to say, I was surprised to see you at this auction. You see, I also make it my business to know what it is the people like. You are the one for the cognac, the cigars and sometimes the rare books. You are not known for the interest in the fine art. But also I did not see you taking the instructions from anyone else, like our friend over there. Were you buying for another party who was not present?’

  ‘You are correct. I have not previously had much interest in art,’ Jason admitted. ‘However I took an instant liking to that superb painting. What can one do when you realise that a painting has succeeded in capturing one’s imagination?’

  ‘This you do not need to tell me. I understand completely.’ A thought struck Monteverdi. ‘Since we both have lost out today, maybe you will do me the honour of joining me for the lunch at the La Dolce Vita, my favourite restaurant in all of Monte Vista.’

  ‘It would be an honour,’ Jason said. As they took the short walk from the trade centre to La Dolce Vita, Jason noticed that almost everyone they passed tipped their hats to Monteverdi. Some even called jovially called him ‘Prime Minister’. Monteverdi blushed slightly and looked downwards slightly in response to attention and the remarks.

  ‘You seem to be popular with people from all walks of life over here? Would you care to explain why they call you prime minister?’

  ‘I will explain when we have sat down, and when we have the wine in front of us. After all,’ he added, ‘what is the life without the good food and the wine?’

  ‘I couldn’t agree more,’ Jason added. On some level it irked him to discover that taking an instant liking to Monteverdi came so easily. This did not make the task allocated to him by the king any easier. Everyone at the restaurant knew Monteverdi. It was clear that he was popular with the owners, the staff and regular patrons. Jason stood by patiently as Monteverdi greeted one person after another. The sense of guilt occasioned by his deception increased significantly each time Monteverdi introduced Jason as his new friend. Once they had settled down at a table and the wine began to flow, Monteverdi returned to the question Jason had posed earlier.

  ‘You see,’ he began with a sigh. ‘I was not always the man with the money. My father was the immigrant in the England. He worked for one lawyer in London. When I left school, the lawyer provided me with some funds to study at the university. It was a struggle. I was not liked too much by the most of my fellow students. I was the foreigner and I was the man from the wrong class. Hardly anyone at the Oxford is not from the upper classes. I was angry and I felt that the lower classes could never make the progress unless everyone had the access to the equal opportunities including the right to the educat
ion. I was, how you say, much inspired by the American Revolution. I found the ideas of the republic where everyone is equal, everyone has the vote, and everyone has the equal opportunities inspiring. I wrote my ideas down in a manuscript.’ He hesitated and shrugged as his face reddened slightly. ‘I must apologise. You are a member of this class about which I complain. I hope you are not offended by my words.’

  ‘Not in the least,’ Jason said honestly. ‘Please continue.’

  ‘You see I had to pass my exams. I forgot about the manuscript and I worked hard at my studies. Being Italian, I also had to improve my English. Anyhow, I did eventually make some friends at the Oxford. When I qualified I managed to obtain the articles at a leading firm through the connections that I made. I specialised in the Maritime law and the commercial law. When I heard about the formation of the trade centre in the Monte Vista, I knew I had to start a practice there. You see, I love the England, but the weather is too cold. I am Italian. The weather in the Monte Vista was also an important reason for me to come here. My decision to come here, it paid off immediately. There was more of the work for me than I could handle with all the trade of the trade centre. Before long, I was making the good money. I was living the good life and enjoying it.’ Monteverdi grabbed Jason’s arm to emphasize his next point.

  ‘I was not the same bitter man that first turned up at the Oxford. Anyhow, one day a man arrives at my chambers with the printed book entitled ‘A new order’. I tell you, when I saw I was the author of this book I nearly fell off my chair. I then discovered that someone at the Oxford had found my manuscript. This stranger gave it the title and made some of the corrections, but he submitted it for the publication under my name. Till today, I have no idea if he was only trying to be honest or if his position in life did not allow him to publish it under his own name. Whatever it was, the book was published without me knowing.’ Once again Monteverdi grabbed Jason’s arm. ‘You must understand that I was not so happy about this book. I am the successful lawyer, living in the monarchy, and almost all my clients, they are the nobles or, at least rich. I also make the good money trading in the commodities and in the art. I was enjoying the good life. There was no place in my life for this book. How would an Englishman say it? The arrival of this book was a trifle inconvenient.’ He then grinned wickedly. ‘But you want to hear something really funny. This man who brought the book also gave me a small sum of money for the royalties. You cannot imagine how I laughed when I realised that I was earning the ‘royalty’ payments from a book whose aim is to bring an end to the royalty.’ Monteverdi roared with laughter.

  Whilst Jason did not find the joke nearly as amusing did Monteverdi, such was effect Monteverdi’s infectious laugh that he ended up laughing until his sides were sore.

  ‘Have some more of the wine,’ Monteverdi suggested as he filled Jason’s glass. ‘Of course, the book was translated into French. It helped to inspire the revolution there.’ All traces of amusement vanished from Monteverdi’s face. ‘We all know what has been done in the name of the revolution. I know that I am not to blame. But at night I cannot help to wonder to myself, if this book had not been published, maybe the revolution may have been different.’

  ‘You cannot allow yourself to take the blame for the excesses of others,’ Jason consoled. In the short time he had come to know Monteverdi, Jason realised that whatever emotion the Italian experienced, he experienced it to the full.

  ‘A few months ago when the revolution first started in the France, the people here were also caught up in the excitement. My book it found its way here and soon the people started to ask me to lead the call for this kingdom to have the parliament. Something like you have in the England, only more, how you say, inclusive,’ he said with a wicked smile. ‘They suggested me for the Prime Minister. We had a few of the marches. These were peaceful. Of course, at that time we did not know what was going to happen in France. The enthusiasm for the marches in Montuga, it did not last for long. There were many differences amongst the people about the changes they wanted. And unlike France, there is not so much unhappiness towards the king Julien. He has run the country effectively and the people here they live comfortably enough. Many are poor but that is not to say they struggle. I don’t know of anyone who does not have enough to eat. He has also done much to make sure that the country has stayed out of the wars, which is also good.’

  ‘What is the present state of the protests in Montuga?’ Jason enquired. He was mindful of the information required by the king. His earlier misgivings about deceiving Monteverdi were allayed to a large extent in that Monteverdi did not appear to be involved in anything to which the king could take legitimate exception.

  ‘Most will wait and see what will happen in the France. But the violence of revolution has shocked many of the citizens in the Montuga. Those who like the constitutional democracy are scared that the republicans will climb on the bandwagon only to take over the cause as did happen recently in the France.’

  ‘And you? What do you intend to do?’ Jason inquired.

  ‘I am the reluctant participant in the democratic movement in Montuga. If I am needed I will not let the people down. However, I share the views of the many who think that now is not such a good time for the change in Montuga.’

  ‘Do you think the French will try to sow the seeds of revolution in Montuga?’

  ‘I fear that they might. If the republicans can manage to unite some of the poor people in the Montuga, it could become the end for the king. Even if the people are not without the food, one can always make much of the inequality and wait for the greed to do the rest.’ The wine had taken hold of both of them and Monteverdi was speaking freely. ‘And of course, there is the Crown prince. He is not like his father. He lives the more flamboyant and the expensive lifestyle. He shows not much of the interest in the matters of the state. He might cause the problems now already. But that is nothing. The big problems will come when he becomes the king.’

  ‘I assume if the prince takes to the throne we may see the masked riders in black again,’ Jason added nonchalantly. He made an effort to gaze at his wine glass to create the impression that his remark was not only a chance one, but also one to which he did not necessarily expect an answer.

  ‘I would not know. For my own good I am not told everything,’ Monteverdi replied in a tone slightly more serious than he had previously used. As Jason looked up from his wine glass he briefly studied Monteverdi’s expression to see whether his question had raised any alarm. However, if Monteverdi had found the question to be at all suspicious, his expression did not show it.

  ‘What is your view on princess Renate?’ Jason asked in a matter of fact tone to change the subject. Monteverdi was not fooled. He shared a wicked smile and a knowing glance with Jason.

  ‘Ah, you have seen the beautiful princess and she has put her spell on you.’

  ‘Yes,’ sighed Jason. If it were that obvious, there was no point in denying it.

  ‘The princess is, I hear, not unlike her father. She knows that she has the duty to the family and to the country. I think she would do better to rule than the younger brother. But, that cannot be. Only the males can become the king. That is what the Treaty of Montuga says.’

  ‘Is she betrothed to anyone?’

  ‘No, she is not. I also do not know of anyone she much likes. She enjoys the parties and the social occasions. If she has done, how you say, the liaisons, then she has done this with the discretion.’