The Storm Maker (9 page)

      
However, there was another reason why the SPASI did
not crack down on Black Star, the reason that was not acknowledged publicly
outside the SPASI. Black Star had more to offer to SPASI besides just the
rumblings of the Starfirian underworld. Mr. Barryvk had connections to dons in
many countries’ underworlds. He had served as a middleman many times, arranging
for SPASI spies to be set up in foreign countries with the help of foreign dons
and in exchange SPASI provided them with arms, counter-surveillance tools and
the likes. This was an arrangement that benefitted SPASI a lot and it was as
big a reason why it took it ‘easy’ on Black Star.

       Sayett
just hoped that Mr. Barryvk would come through on his promise for some
information, but if not, there was already another line of inquiry that he was
looking to explore.

08/30/958

Chief
Detective Sayett had been driving hard and fast since early morning, hoping to
make it to Gold Harbor before the evening. He had gotten up real early and left
the hotel in a hurry because he knew that Duke Ragfelvyk kept odd hours, took
his days off while starting his work in the evening and reaching late into the
night. He wouldn’t be able to catch him at his workplace unless he reached
there early, preferably in the afternoon itself.

       Duke
Ragfelvyk was the undisputed boss of the Gold Harbor underworld and the only
man whose syndicate was a rival to the Black Star run by Mr. Barryvk. SPASI
files showed that it had at least seventy-three gunmen on hire making it the
only underworld syndicate anywhere close to the power and reach of the Black Star
with its more than a hundred gunmen. There were no other syndicates in the
Starfirian underworld that had more than thirty-odd gunmen on payroll and these
two essentially controlled the majority of the organized criminal activity. If
there was one man that had information on these bank robberies that Mr. Barryvk
didn’t, then it was the Duke.

       As
Sayett drove closer to the Gold Harbor he came across a big junction parting
the national road into two forks, the southern fork went to Southstar while the
northern one went to Gold Harbor. He took the northern fork and suddenly a
spate of memories came gushing in.

       It
was quite a long time ago when he was a young, unmarried detective in his
twenties. He had recently joined SPASI in its counter-smuggling division, which
is where it started off its new hires and had then been posted to Gold Harbor.
Those were some days, Sayett thought, much more reckless, much more dangerous.
They chased smugglers not only in the big city itself, but down the coastline
as well. He had been in some wild shootouts with the smugglers. Now he was a
better and more experienced marksman now and would never do the fighting he did
back then. He and his fellow young detectives did not worry too much about
getting shot in those days. They had no families to worry about, no reputations
that they had built up to protect, and not much concern for the end goal of
shutting down the smuggling syndicate. They let the seniors worry about the
latter.

       In
the daytime they would be running around trying to put together the clues. In
evenings, however, they would wind down in a one of the beach side restaurants,
usually a team of four or six of them. Gold Harbor and the coast had a great
many seafood restaurants and they rarely ate in the same place twice. They
would sit at the open tables, watching the sun set while their fish, crab,
lobsters and so on were slow cooked over open fires. They drank strong ales out
of big jars; they would take two long hours to finish the meal that could have
been over in twenty minutes. Next day it would start all over again, they were
out in the field, running around with their pistols and badges.

       Sayett
almost felt nostalgic even though he had been glad for his promotion out of the
counter-smuggling division. Smugglers were comparatively dull-witted and he had
started to lose interest in tracking them down relatively early in his work
life, finding it altogether much too easy. He liked matching wits with the
foreign spies a lot more. He had been stuck with this bank robbery case due to
the political influence of the rich bankers, but he intended to wrap it up as
fast as he could and get back to running his own division.

       Sayett
drove two more hours doing almost ninety-miles per hour on the northern fork of
the national road when the defining monument of Gold Harbor came in his view.    It
was a big, golden arch. However, big does not even begin to describe it, even
gigantic would be an understatement. The arch rose hundreds and hundreds of
feet in the air and was so wide that the entire sixteen lanes of national road,
parted four times, passed underneath it along with a small creek, a multistory
building right at the center of it and much empty space to boot. Sayett had
seen it many times, but each time the sight did not fail to leave him
awestruck.

       Although
the size of the arch was spectacular, it was not its most amazing
characteristic. Its uniqueness and its grandeur was the gold plating it was
covered in. Real gold covered the entirety of the external surface of arch from
one side to the other leaving no external spot of any other material. Here, all
that glittered in the shining sun was truly gold.

       Not
surprisingly then the building at the center of it was the Gold Harbor Town
Police headquarters, moved there after the construction of the arch to prevent
the damage and theft of the gold plating. Sayett knew of no other city whose
central police station was located near its border, but then again he knew of
no other city whose most valuable treasure was a gigantic gold plated arch
setting out in the public.

       The
history of the arch was intricately tied to the town of Gold Harbor as much
symbolized it, and gave clue to its original character as the name of the town
itself. Located at the very north of the western coast of the Starfire Nation,
Gold Harbor was one of the twelve cities with population in millions. In the
mountains to its north and northeast, much gold was discovered; so much that
not only were Gold Harbor mines the biggest producer of gold in Starfire
Nation, they regularly produced near a quarter of entire national production
and during its peak year had reached a record forty two percent of nationwide
output.

       The
golden arch had been financed by the thousands of gold mining companies that
had mushroomed and existed before the consolidation, with each owner donating
some portion of his production towards the gold plating of the arch.

       The
city had grown up to serve the mines with heavy machinery companies sprouting
and making the city their headquarters. The industrial output of earth moving
and metal smelting machines was no less impressive. But what made Gold Harbor
big was its port, now the second biggest on the west coast after the port of
Southstar way down.

       Gold
mining gave the town its starting impetus, its name and even its significant
monument, but it was shipping and trade that made Gold Harbor the big city,
drawing Starfirians from around the country to gain employment in dock work,
heavy equipment factories and shipbuilding.

       It
happened that Starfire Nation was never a big gold using country. Gold was one
of the metals used as currency when the national currency was based on metals
in the past, but it was significantly lower ranked in use at the fourth place
after Copper, Iron and Silver as a currency.

       Starfirian
state and its leaders had always taken a dim view of the luxury goods including
such as gold and gold jewelry and there were heavy taxes on domestic sale of
gold items. Starfirian leaders and philosophers preferred instead that national
wealth be invested in productive assets such as infrastructure and industrial
companies instead of inert metals. To that end they saw an opportunity to use
gold as an export to add to the trade surplus. And thus the Port of Gold Harbor
grew focused outward towards the rest of the world, exporting more than ninety
percent of its gold production each year.

       The
port grew quickly on the back of the gold exports. However, gold had the happy
property of commanding high prices for physically small quantities. The gold ships
could easily pay enough fees to port owners to keep them in profit at the same
time leaving underutilized a significant ship handling capacity. The Gold
Harbor port owners took this opportunity to offer massive discounts to west
coast shippers up and down the coast, bankrupting their competitor ports all
the way down to Southstar, where finally the cost of transportation made
Southstar port price competitive with Gold Harbor.

       Presently
the city generated much more commerce out of its ports and its shipping than it
did out of gold mining, refining and jewelry work; but all of it was built on
the back of the shiny yellow metal.

       Sayett
drove for another hour, driving slower at around seventy miles per hour as he
passed through the city itself, all the way to the other side. Here were the
most expensive neighborhoods of Gold Harbor. Here were vast palaces of old
mining tycoons, majestic mansions of port and ship owners, big beautiful
bungalows of industrialists, all of them facing the ocean and one amongst them
was the palatial residence of Duke Ragfelvyk.

       Sayett
drove up to the house of Duke. The property itself was shaped as a square
surrounded with walls of concrete and one door of blue steel bars, large enough
for two cars, located in the center of the front wall facing the ocean view.
Sayett pulled up to the gate. There were no guards outside but there were a
couple of them inside. They kept their rifles well hidden underneath their
coats.

       Sayett
knew Duke was a much more social fellow than Mr. Barryvk who was content to
live on the outskirts away from most people. Duke on the other hand liked to
hobnob with the rich and powerful of Gold Harbor. Thus he did his utmost to
conceal his source of wealth. Some of his high class friends probably knew,
some others might have suspected, but for his part, he did not give an image of
being an intimidating underworld don, but on the contrary was known for his
joviality in the parties.

       And
thus the concealment of his tough, muscled gunmen behind the walls, away from
the sight of the city elites who might take a drive or stroll along the coastal
road.

       The
two guards walked up to Sayett’s car and asked of his business.

       Sayett
showed his badge to the guards and said, “I am from SPASI and I am here to meet
Duke Ragfelvyk. However, I am here on a friendly visit, just to talk, no legal
matters at all.”

       “Duke
is out now, but wait here,” one of the guards said. He walked over to a small
guardhouse and returned a couple of minutes later. “His son Dayett Ragfelvyk
will see you. Drive up to the car parking on the left side of the house and the
guards will escort you to him.”

       They
opened the gates for him and Sayett drove inside. Ahead of him was a large,
forty-to-fifty room, three story mansion in the center of a sprawling well-maintained
lawn. He looked out of his windows to his right and left and saw gunmen with
rifles on their shoulders patrolling the length and breadth of the walls from
inside. He drove into the parking on the left and got out as two men walked up
to him and led him to the back of the mansion. They were not openly carrying
guns, but Sayett did not doubt that they were packing pistols.

       There
was a big swimming pool in the back. Chairs and tables had been set up all
around it but only one set of them was presently occupied. A young man in a
swimsuit was wiping water from his slightly surly hair with a towel. A pretty
young girl, also in a swimsuit, with long hair and long legs was standing next
to him and waiting on him.

       The
two men pointed Sayett to the young man and then stood in the distance where
they could not hear the conversation but could watch from afar.

       “I
will come pick you up tonight,” the man said to the girl.

       She
nodded, kissed him and went to a nearby room to change her clothes. Dayett put on
a maroon colored bathrobe as Sayett walked up to him. “Welcome, SPASI man. My
father isn’t here, but you can drink with me till he comes.”

       “Dayett,
I hope I did not interrupt anything,” Sayett said and sat down facing Dayett
across the table.

       “Not
at all, I had become bored of her girlie banter anyhow,” Dayett laughed. “But
how do you know my name?”

       “Happens
we have very similar names,” Sayett said, “I am chief detective Sayett. But
moreover we know about everyone who works for your father.”

       “What
does my file say?” Dayett chuckled.

       “Fortunately
we don’t have a file on yourself,” Sayett said. “We know you are a good boy and
that you aren’t part of your father’s syndicate.”

       “Or
you don’t know if I am or not,” Dayett said.

       “Trust
me, we know a lot—a lot more than you might think. We know more about even your
gardeners and cooks than their own families.” Sayett smiled. “If we don’t have
a file on someone, it is because we know they aren’t part of the underworld.”

       “That
is good to hear,” Dayett said. “Have some beer by the way.” He pushed a couple
of different beer bottles towards Sayett and opened one for himself. Sayett
took one of them and emptied it into a tall glass.

       “Now
I did not come for this,” Sayett said. “But after your father, you can make a
deal with us. You can wind down Ragfelvyk syndicate’s operations under our
supervision and we will let you keep a large part of the wealth that Duke has
acquired regardless of how he did it.”

       “You
don’t have to tell me,” Dayett said. “I have never felt a part of what’s around
me. My father has earned a lot of money and he is generous with his men as
well. Many could retire in ease and luxury, but it is more the excitement for
them of this risqué life and business than the money that keeps them going. I was
born in the wrong country; I am a hedonist in a nation of hard men. Tell me,
Sayett, do you find your work exciting?”