Читать книгу BAD MOOD DRIVE - Douglas Alan Captain - Страница 4

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That's the reality, if you want life to be as it was.

Donald asked, "Did you realize that we're being

followed, Mr. Stanley?"

"Yes." He already had noticed of them for the past

twenty-four hours.

The two men and the woman were dressed casually,

attempting to blend in with the summer tourists strolling

along the cobbled streets in the early morning, but it was

difficult to remain inconspicuous in a place like Monte

Carlo. It is a worldwide well known city with its Casinos,

Museums and Gardens.

Robert Stanley had first become aware of them

because they were too casual, trying too hard not to look at

him. Wherever he turned, one of them was in his

background. Robert Stanley was an easy target to follow.

He was six feet tall, with white hair lapping over his collar

and an aristocratic, almost imperious face. He was

accompanied by a strikingly lovely young blonde girl, a

pure-black German shepherd, and Donald Herman, a six-

foot four-inch bodyguard with a bulging neck and sloping

forehead. Hard to lose us, Stanley thought. He knew who

had sent them and why, and he was filled with a sense of

imminent danger. He had learned long ago to trust his

instincts. Instinct and intuition had helped make him one of

the wealthiest men in the world.

Forbes magazine estimated the value of Stanley

Enterprises at seven billion dollars, while the Fortune 500

appraised it at nine billion. The Wall Street Journal,

Barron's, and The Financial Times had all done profiles on

Robert Stanley, trying to explain his mystique, his amazing

sense of timing, the great ability that had to create the giant

Stanley Enterprises. None of them had fully succeeded to

give adequate explanation. What they all agree on was that he

had a real and substantially big manic energy. He was

inexhaustible. His philosophy was simple: A day without

making a deal was a day wasted without making money. He

was able to eliminate his competitors, his staff, and

everyone else who came in contact with him. He was a

psychic phenomenon. He was his own man, after all. He was

a religious man. He believed in God, and the God he

believed in wanted him to be rich and successful, and his

enemies dead. Robert Stanley was a public figure, and the

press knew everything about him. Robert Stanley was a

private figure, and the press knew nothing about him. They

had written about his charisma, his lavish life-style, his

private plane and his yacht, and his legendary homes in

Hawaii, Morocco, Long Island, London, the South of France,

and of course his magnificent estate, Bell Air, in West Los

Angeles. But the real Robert Stanley remained a mystery.

"Where are we going?" the woman asked. 11

He was too preoccupied to answer. The couple on the

other side of the street was using the cross switch

technique, and they had just changed partners again. Along

with his sense of danger, Stanley felt a deep anger that they

were invading his privacy. They had dared to come to his

place, his secret haven from the rest of the world.

Monaco is the second smallest independent state in the

world (after the Vatican) and is almost entirely urban.

Monte Carlo is not the capital of Monaco but a government

district. The country is divided into four areas: Monaco-Ville

(the old city), the Condamine (port quarter), Monte-Carlo

(business and recreation), and Fontvieille (recreation and

light industry). With no natural resources to exploit other

than its location and climate, the principality has become a

resort for tourists and a tax haven for businesses. Monaco is

six times the size of the Vatican and still remains the

world's most densely populated independent country.

The nearest airport is the Nice Côte-d'Azur

International, which is around 40 kilometers (24.85 miles)

away from the city-center in neighboring France. It operates

daily flights to nearly all of Europe's main cities, such as

London, Paris, Amsterdam, Rome, Brussels, Frankfurt and

Zurich. There are regular Rapides Cote D’Azur buses

connecting Monte Carlo with both the terminals at Nice

Cote-D'Azur airport, and taxis are always available outside

the terminal buildings.

Monte Carlo is easily accessed by its land borders from

France or Italy by a network of highways, most commonly

used of which is the A8 which runs west from Monte Carlo

to Nice and Marseilles, and east towards the Italian border.

Monaco-Ville is known as “le rocher” or “the rock.” It is

still a medieval village at heart and an astonishingly

picturesque site. It is made up almost entirely of pedestrian

streets and passageways and most previous century houses

still remain. There a number of hotels, restaurant and

souvenir shops tourists can stay, eat and shop at. Everybody

can also visit the Prince's Palace, the Cathedral, the

Oceanographic Museum, the City Hall, and the Saint Martin

Gardens.

The Palais Princier (Prince's Palace) is in old Monaco-

Ville. There are guided tours of the palace each day and

usually run around the clock. The Palace also offers a

breathtaking panoramic view overlooking the Port and

Monte-Carlo. Every day in front of the Palace's main

entrance visitors can watch the changing of the guard

ceremony performed by the "Carabiniers." “Carabiniers”

are not only in charge of the Princes’ security but they offer

Him a Guard of Honor and on special occasions, are His

escorts. The “Compagnie des Carabiniers du Prince” has a

military band (Fanfare), which performs at public concerts,

official occasions, sports events and international military

music festivals.

The Monaco Cathedral was built in 1875 and stands on

the site of a 13th century earlier church. It is a Romanesque-

Byzantine church dedicated to Saint Nicolas and houses the

remains of former Princes of Monaco and Princess Grace.

The church square also contains some of Monaco-Ville's

finest restaurants.

The Oceanographic Museum and Aquarium is a world-

renowned attraction. Located above sea level, the museum

contains stunning collections of marine fauna, numerous

specimens of sea creatures (stuffed or in skeleton form),

models of Prince Albert’s laboratory ships, and craft ware

made from the sea’s natural products. On the ground floor,

exhibitions and film projections are presented daily in the

Conference room. In the basement, visitors can take

pleasure in watching spectacular shows of marine flora and

fauna. With 4,000 species of fish and over 200 families of

invertebrates, the aquarium is now an authority on the

presentation of the Mediterranean and tropical marine

ecosystem. Finally, visitors can have lunch in “La Terrasse”

and visit the museum gift shop.

The Jardin Exotique (Exotic Gardens) is one of the many

gardens Monaco has to offer. It is also one of Monaco’s

finest tourist attractions. Several thousand rare plants from

around the world are presented in a walking tour that is

quite memorable for the views as well as the flora and

plants. Due to the rise in altitude, not only are there many

displays of desert plants but there are a handful of

subtropical flora displays as well. There is also a grotto

(cave) that has scheduled guided tours.

The Monaco Opera House or Salle Garnier was built by

the famous architect Charles Garnier. The auditorium of the

opera house is decorated in red and gold and has frescoes

and sculptures all around the auditorium. Looking up to the

ceiling of the auditorium, the visitor will be blown away by

the superb paintings. The opera house is flamboyant but at

the same time very beautiful. There have been some of the

most superior international performances of ballet, opera

and concerts held in the opera house for more than a

century.

The Marlborough Fine Arts Gallery was founded in

London by Frank Lloyd and Harry Fischer. A second gallery

was opened in Rome, another in New York, and one more

in Monaco. The gallery holds a grand collection of post-

World War II artists and even paintings by Pablo Picasso,

Joan Miró, Jules Brassai, Louise Bourgeois, Dale Chihuly,

David Hockney and Henri Matisse.

The Grimaldi Forum is the Monaco convention center.

The Princes car collection has everything, from carriges

and old cars, to formula 1 race cars.

The Old Casino in Monte Carlo try your luck in the Grand

Casino and gamble alongside the world's richest and often

most famous. You'll need your passport to enter (as

Monégasque citizens are prohibited from gambling at the

casino), and the fees for entry range enormously depending

on what room you are going to - often from 30€ right up

into the hundreds. You can also visit the casino without

gambling, but also for a nominal fee. The dress code inside

is extremely strict - men are required to wear coats and ties.

The gaming rooms themselves are spectacular, with stained

glass, paintings, and sculptures everywhere. There are two

other more Americanized casinos in Monte Carlo. Neither

of these has an admission fee, and the dress code is more

casual.

Monaco's streets host the best known Formula 1 Grand

Prix. It is also one of Europe's premier social highlights of

the year. The Automobile Club of Monaco organizes this

spectacular Formula 1 race each year. The Grand Prix is 77

laps around 263-kilometers of Monte Carlo's narrowest and

twisted streets. The main attraction of the Monaco Grand

Prix is the proximity of the speeding Formula One cars to

the race spectators. The thrill of screaming engines,

smoking tires and determined drivers also makes the

Monaco Grand Prix one of the most exciting races in the

world.

Aquavision: Discover Monaco from the sea during this

fascinating boat tour! “Aquavision” is a catamaran-type boat

equipped with two windows in the hull for underwater vision,

thus allowing the passengers to explore the natural seabed

of the coast in an unusual way.

In the summer time, Monte-Carlo is illuminated with

dazzling concerts at the exclusive Monte-Carlo Sporting

Club. The club has featured such artist as Natalie Cole,

Andrea Bocelli, the Beach Boys, Lionel Richie and Julio

Iglesias among others. The club also hosts a small casino

which includes basic casino games.

Shopping in Monte Carlo is usually quite exclusive.

There are plenty of places to melt the credit card alongside

Europe's high rollers. The chic clothes shops are in the

Golden Circle, framed by Avenue Monte Carlo, Avenue des

Beaux-Arts and Allees Lumieres, where Hermes, Christian

Dior, Gucci and Prada all have a presence. The area on and

around Place du Casino is home to high-end jewelers such

as Bulgari, Cartier and Chopard.

For more shopping in Monte Carlo is the Condamine

Market. The market, which can be found in the Place

d’Armes, has been in existence since 1880 and is lively and

attractive - many hours can be spent simply wandering

around, bargaining for souvenirs from the many tiny shops,

boutiques and friendly locals. If however you like more

modern shopping, just take a short walk along the

esplanade to the rue Princess Caroline pedestrian mall.

Monte Carlo is a pretty and interesting in an old-

fashioned way, medieval village, weaving its ancient magic

on a hilltop in the Alpes Maritimes.It is surrounded by a

spectacular and enchanting landscape of hills and valleys

covered with flowers, orchards, and pine forests. Monte

Carlo itself, has a plenty of artists' studios, galleries, and

wonderful antiques shops, is a magnet for tourists from all

over the world.

Robert Stanley was one of them. He and his group

turned onto the Rue du Portier. Stanley talked to the woman,

"Sophia, do you like museums?"

"Yes, my dear." She was very excited to please him. She

had never met anyone like Robert Stanley. Wait until I tell

my opinion about him. I didn't think there was anything left

for me to learn about sex, but my God, he's so creative! He's

so fantastic, clever and stimulating. He has the ability to use

his imagination to produce new sex ideas and make orgasm

happen. He makes me feel tired and exhausted!

They went up the hill to the Chapel of the Visitation

Museum, which has been built in baroque style during the

17th century. The Museum collection includes

masterpieces by Rubens, Zurbaran, Ribera and the Italian

baroque masters. Robert Stanley browsed through the

renowned collection of paintings. When he casually glanced

around, he saw the woman at the other end of the gallery,

carefully studying a painting.

Stanley turned to Sophia. "Hungry?"

"Yes. If you are." Must not be pushy, she thought.

"Good.We'll have lunch at Cafe de Paris, Place du

Casino."

Cafe de Paris was one of Stanley's favorite places. The

nerve center of Monte Carlo, where people go to see and be

seen, buzzing with the feel of old time Monte Carlo, circa

early 1900s.It is a meeting point for all of Monte-Carlo. With

its new futuristic decor, this casino invites you on a journey

through the galaxy. An innovative place where slot

machines and systems exclusive in Europe sit side by side

and the American table games are out of this world…

Stanley and Sophia take a place at a table.

Carl, the black German shepherd, lay at his feet, ever

watchful. The dog was Robert Stanley's trademark. Where

Stanley went, Carl went with him like as his best friend. It

was rumored that at Robert Stanley's command, the animal

would tear out a person's throat. No one wanted to test that

rumor. Donald sat by himself at a table near the entrance,

carefully observing the other patrons as they came and

went. Stanley turned to Sophia.

"Shall I order for you, my dear?"

"Yes, please."

Robert Stanley prided himself on being a gourmet. He

ordered a green salad and fricassee de lotte for both of

them.

As they were being served their main course, Daniela

Ramon, who ran the Cafe with her husband, Frank,

approached the table and smiled. "Bonjour. Is everything all

right, Monsieur Stanley?"

"Wonderful, Madame Ramon."

And it was going to be. Sophia said, "I've never been

here before. It's such a lovely place."

Stanley turned his attention to her. Donald had picked

her up for him in Monte Carlo a day earlier.

"Mr. Stanley, I brought someone for you."

"Any problem?" Stanley had asked.

Donald had smiled broadly. "None." He had seen her in

the lobby of the Louis XV, Hôtel de Paris, Place du Casino.

In one of the finest hotels in the world, this Michelin 3

star rated restaurant serves dining perfection amongst

luxurious glitterati. Sophia was in Monte Carlo for a few

days just to take a short vacation and enjoy the place.

"Excuse me, do you speak English?"

"Yes." She had a lilting Italian accent.

"The man I work for would like you to have dinner with

him."

She had been angry and surprised because she feels

insulted and unfairly treated. "I'm not a hooker! I'm an

actress," she was unbearably arrogant. In fact, she had had a

walk-on part in Paul Agati's last film, and a role with two

lines of dialogue in a Giuseppe Tornadore film.

"Why should I have dinner with a stranger?"

Donald had taken out a thick pile of hundred-dollar bills.

He pushed five of them into her hand. "My friend is very

generous. He has a yacht, and he is lonely." He had watched

her expression go through a series of changes from anger,

to curiosity, to interest.

"As it happens, I'm between pictures." She smiled.

"It would probably do not cause any harm to me if I have

dinner with your friend."

"Yes, of cause. He will be pleased."

"Where is he?"

"In Monte Carlo."

Donald had chosen well. Italian. In her late twenties.

She was a sensuous and attractive in a sexual way young

girl. She has full sensuous lips. She is a beautiful and

sensuous. She was sexually exciting and very attractive.

"Don’t you think she’s sexy?" Donald asked. Yes, it is. She

is a sexy girl and very attractive one. This type of attraction

often occurs amongst individuals. Donald has his own

preferences as an individual. These preferences come about

as a result of a complex variety of his genetic,

psychological, and cultural factors. The sexual attraction is

different from one person to another and depends on both -

Donald and Sophia. She has catlike face. Full-breasted

figure. Now, looking at her across the table, Robert Stanley

made a decision.

"Do you like to travel, Sophia?"

"I'm thrill."

"Good. We'll go on a little trip. Excuse me for a

moment."

Sophia watched as he walked into the restaurant inside

the men's room. Stanley picks up his cellular phone and

dialed. "Marine operator, please."

Seconds later, a voice said, "C'est l'operatrice

maritime.”

"I want to place a call to the yacht Blue Skies. Whiskey

bravo lima nine eight zero ..."

The conversation lasted five minutes, and when Stanley

was finished, he dialed the airport at Nice. The conversation

was shorter this time.

When Stanley was through talking, he spoke to Donald,

who rapidly left the restaurant. Then he returned to Sophia.

"Are you ready?"

"Yes."

"Let's take a walk." He needed time to work out a plan.

It was a perfect day. The sun had splashed pink clouds

across the horizon and rivers of silver light ran through the

streets. They walked along the Rue du Portier, past the

Eglise, the beautiful twelfth-century church, and stopped at

the flower shop. When they came out, one of the three

watchers was standing outside, busily studying the church.

Donald was also waiting for them.

Robert Stanley handed the flower to Sophia. "Why don't

you take this up to the Hotel? I'll be along in a few minutes."

"All right." She smiled and said softly, "Hurry, my dear."

Stanley watched her leave, and then he turned to

Donald.

"What did you find out?"

"The woman and one of the men are staying at Rue du

Portier, on the road to Nice."

Robert Stanley knew the place. It was one of the streets in

Monte Carlo. "And the other one?"

"Around the corner." "What do you want me to do with

them, sir?"

"Nothing. I'll take care of them."

Robert Stanley’s Hôtel de Paris was on Avenue

D'ostende, close to the Place du Casino and Port Hercule.

When Stanley returned to the Hotel, Sophia was in his

bedroom, waiting for him. She was naked.

"What took you so long?" she whispered.

In order to survive, Sophia Loren often picked up money

as a call girl between film assignments, and she was used to

faking orgasms to please her clients, but with this man,

there was no need to pretend. He has insatiable desire, and she

found herself climaxing again and again. When they were

finally exhausted, Sophia put her arms around him, and

murmured happily, "I could stay here forever, my dear."

I wish I could, Stanley thought, cruelly.

They had dinner at the Hôtel de Paris restaurant. The

dinner was delicious, and for Stanley the waiter added spice

to the meal. When they were finished, they made their way

back to the hotel. Stanley walked slowly, to make certain his

pursuers followed.

At one A.M., a man standing across the street watched

the lights in the hotel being turned off, one by one. At four-

bedroom where Sophia slept. He shook her gently.

"Sophia...?"

She opened her eyes and looked up at him, a smile of

anticipation on her face, then frowned. He was fully

dressed. She sat up. "Is something wrong?"

"No, my dear. Everything is fine. You said you liked to

travel. Well, we're going to take a little trip."

She was fully awake and excited now. "At this hour?"

"Yes. We must be very quiet."

"But ..."

"Hurry."

Fifteen minutes later, Robert Stanley, Sophia, Donald,

and Carl were moving down with the elevator to the

basement garage where a blue Mercedes was parked.

Donald quietly opened the garage door and looked out

onto the street. Except for Stanley's white Corniche, parked

in front, it seemed deserted. "All clear." Stanley turned to

Sophia.

"We're going to play a little game. You and I are going

to get in the back of the Mercedes and lie down on the

floor."

Her eyes widened. "Why?"

"Some business competitors have been following me,"

he said very serious and sincere. "I'm about to close a very

large deal, and they're trying to find out about it. If they do, it

could cost me a lot of money."

"I understand," Sophia said. She had no idea what he

was talking about.

Five minutes later, they were driving past the gates of

the garage on the road to Nice. A man seated on a bench

watched the blue Mercedes as it sped through the gates. At

the wheel was Donald Herman and beside him was Carl. The

man hastily took out a cellular telephone and began

dialing...

"We may have a problem," he told the woman.

"What kind of problem?"

"A blue Mercedes just drove out of the gates. Donald

Herman was driving, and the dog was in the car, too."

"And Stanley wasn't in the car?"

"No."

"I don't believe it. His bodyguard never leaves him at

night, and that dog never leaves him, ever."

"Is his Corniche still parked in front of the hotel?" asked

the other man sent to follow Robert Stanley.

"Yes, but maybe he switched cars."

"Or it could be a trick! Call the airport."

Within minutes, they were talking to the tower.

"Monsieur Stanley's plane? Qui. It arrived an hour ago

and has already refueled."

Five minutes later, two members of the surveillance

team were on their way to the airport, while the third kept

watch on the hotel. As the blue Mercedes passed through

Boulevard Princesse Charlotte, Stanley moved onto the seat.

"It's all right to sit up, now," he told Sophia. He turned to

Donald, "Nice airport. Hurry."

Forty five minutes later, at the Nice airport, a converted

Boeing 727 slowly moves down the runway along the

ground to the takeoff point. Up in the tower, the flight

controller said,

"They certainly are in a hurry to get that plane off the

ground. The pilot has asked for a clearance four times."

"Whose plane is it?"

"Robert Stanley's."

"He's probably on his way to make another billion or

so."

The controller turned to monitor a Learjet taking off,

and then picked up the microphone. "Boeing eight nine five,

this is Nice departure control. You are cleared for takeoff.

Five left. After departure, turn right to a heading of one four

zero."

Robert Stanley's pilot and copilot exchanged a relieved

look. The pilot pressed the microphone button.

"Roger. Boeing eight nine five is cleared for takeoff. Will

turn right to one four zero."

A moment later, the huge plane thundered down the

runway and knifed into the blue sky. The copilot spoke into

the microphone again.

"Departure, Boeing eight nine five is climbing out of

three thousand for flight level seven zero."

The copilot turned to the pilot.

"Whew! Old Man Stanley was sure anxious for us to get

off the ground, wasn't he?"

The pilot shrugged.

"Ours not to reason why, ours but to do and die. How's

he doing back there?"

The copilot rose and stepped to the door of the cockpit,

and looked into the cabin. "He's resting."

They telephoned the airport tower again from the car.

"Mr. Stanley's plane ... Is it still on the ground?"

"No, monsieur. It has departed."

"Did the pilot file a flight plan?"

"Of course, monsieur."

"To where?"

"The plane is headed for JFK."

"Thank you." He turned to his companion.

"Kennedy. We'll-have people there to meet him."

When the Mercedes passed the outskirts of Monte Carlo,

speeding toward the Italian border, Robert Stanley said,

"Donald, there’s no chance that we were followed?"

"No, sir. We've lost them."

"Good." Robert Stanley leaned back in his seat and

relaxed. There was nothing to worry about. They would be

tracking the plane. He reviewed the situation in his mind. It

was really a question of what they knew and when they

knew it. They were like jackals following the way of a lion,

hoping to bring him down. Robert Stanley smiled to himself.

They had underestimated the man they were dealing with.

Others who had made that mistake had paid dearly for it.

Someone would also pay this time. He was Robert Stanley,

the confidant of presidents and kings, powerful and rich

enough to break the economies of a few small countries.

Still...

The 727 was in the skies over. Marseilles. The pilot

spoke into the microphone. "Marseilles, Boeing eight nine

five is with you, climbing out of flight level one nine zero for

flight level two three zero."

"Roger."

The Mercedes reached Monte Carlo shortly after dawn.

Robert Stanley had fond memories of the city, but it had

changed drastically. He remembered a time when it had

been an elegant town with first-class hotels and

restaurants, and a casino where black tie was required and

where fortunes could be lost or won in an evening. Now it

had succumbed to tourism, with loud-mouthed patrons

gambling in their shirts.

The Mercedes was approaching the harbor - Port

Hercule. Five minutes later, the Mercedes pulled up next to

the Blue Skies, a hundred-and-eighty-foot motor yacht.

Captain Bargas and the crew of twelve were lined up on

deck. The captain hurried down the gangplank to greet the

new arrivals.

"Good morning, Signor Stanley," Captain Bargas said.

"We'll take your luggage, and ..."

"No luggage. Let's move."

"Yes, sir."

"Wait a minute." Stanley was studying the crew. He

looks at one of the crew member almost angry and this

change his mood. He obviously has a very bad mood. Most

of the similar situations make him to be arrogant. As a result

of this bad mood drive Stanley said:

"The man on the end. He's new, isn't he?"

"Yes, sir. Our cabin boy got sick in Capri, and we took on

this. He's highly..."

"Get rid of him," Stanley ordered.

The captain looked at him, puzzled. "Get ...?"

"Pay him off. Let's get out of here. Now!"

Captain Bargas nodded. "Right, sir."

Looking around, Robert Stanley was filled with a

renewed sense of foreboding. He could almost reach out

and touch the danger in the air. He did not want any strangers

near him. Captain Bargas and his crew had been with him

for years. He could trust them. He turned to look at the girl.

Since Donald had picked her up at random, there was no

danger there. And as for Donald, his faithful bodyguard

had saved his life more than once. Stanley turned to Donald.

"Stay close to me."

"Yes, sir."

Stanley took Sophia's arm. "Let's go aboard, my

sweetheart."

Donald Herman stood on deck, watching the crew

prepare to cast off. He scanned the harbor, but he saw

nothing to be alarmed about. At this time of the morning,

there was very little activity. The yacht's huge generators

burst into life, and the vessel got under way. The captain

approached Robert Stanley "You didn't say where we were

heading, Signor Stanley."

"No, I didn't, did I, Captain?" He thought for a moment.

"Ajaccio."

"Yes, sir."

"By the way, I want you to maintain strict radio silence."

Captain Bargas frowned at Robert Stanley. "Radio

silence? Yes, sir, but what if ...?"

Robert Stanley said, "Don't worry about it. Just do it.

And I don't want anyone using the satellite phones."

"Right, sir. Will we be laying over in Ajaccio?"

"I let you know, Captain."

Robert Stanley took Sophia on a tour of the yacht. It was

one of his prized possessions, and he enjoyed showing it off.

It was a breathtaking vessel. It had a luxuriously appointed

master suite with a sitting room and an office. The office

was spacious and comfortably furnished with a couch,

several easy chairs, and a desk, behind which was enough

equipment to run a small town. On the wall was a large

electronic map with a small moving boat showing the

current position of the yacht. Sliding glass doors opened

from the master suite onto an outside veranda deck

furnished with a chaise longue and a table with four chairs.

A teak railing ran along the outside. On balmy days, it was

Stanley's custom to have breakfast on the veranda. There

were six guest staterooms, each with hand painted silk

panels, picture windows, and a bath with a Jacuzzi. The

large library was done in koa wood. The dining room has a

seating capacity for sixteen guests. A fully equipped fitness

salon was on the lower deck. The yacht also contained a

wine cellar and a theater that was ideal for running films.

Robert Stanley had one of the world's greatest libraries of

DVD movies, including pornographic. The furnishings

throughout the vessel were exquisite, and the paintings

would have made any museum proud.

"Well, now you've seen most of it," Stanley told Sophia

at the end of the tour. "I'll show you the rest tomorrow."

She was admired. "I've never seen anything like it! It's ...

it's like a city!"

Robert Stanley smiled at her enthusiasm. "The steward

will show you to your cabin. Make yourself comfortable. I

have some work to do."

Robert Stanley returned to his office and checked the

electronic map on the wall for the location of the yacht.

Blue Skies was in the Ligurian Sea, heading northeast. They

won't know where I've gone, Stanley thought. They'll be

waiting for me at JFK. When we get to Ajaccio, I'll straighten

everything out.

Thirty-five thousand feet in the air, the pilot of the 727

was getting new instructions. "Boeing eight nine five, you

are cleared directly to Delta India November upper route

forty as filed."

"Roger. Boeing eight nine five is cleared direct upper

route forty as filed." He turned to the copilot. "All clear."

The pilot stretched, got up, and walked to the cockpit

door. He looked into the cabin. The sky is of the blue of

summer day, with large, but not threatening, clouds of a

silvery whiteness. Place high up against open sky and

moving clouds and it is something else again. Celebration of

union of Earth and Sky. Blue, the color of the sky on a sunny

day. The sky is clear as glass. It was a murky, pinkish grey;

clouds swirled across it exposing higher, greyer banks of

cloud.

"How's our passenger doing?" the copilot asked.

"He looks hungry to me."

The Ligurian coast is the Italian Riviera, sweeping in a

semicircle from the French-Italian border around to Genoa,

and then continuing down to the Gulf of La Spezia. The

beautiful long ribbon of coast and its sparkling waters

contain the storied ports of Ajaccio, Vemazza, and beyond

them, Elba, Sardinia, and Corsica. Blue Skies was

approaching Ajaccio, which even from a distance was an

impressive sight, its hillsides covered with olive trees, pines,

cypresses, and palms.

Robert Stanley, Sophia, and Donald were on deck,

studying the approaching coastline.

"Have you been to Ajaccio often?" Sophia asked.

"A few times."

"Where is your main home?"

Too personal. "You'll enjoy Ajaccio, Sophia. It's really

quite beautiful."

Captain Bargas approached them. "Would you like to

have a lunch aboard, Signor Stanley?"

"No, we'll have lunch at the Palazzu U Domu."

"Fantastic. And shall I be prepared to weigh anchor right

after lunch?"

"I think not. Let's enjoy the beauty of the place."

Captain Bargas studied him, puzzled. Robert Stanley's

mood drive makes him to be in a terrible hurry, or it seems

that he has all the time in the world. And the radio to be

shut down? Unheard of it! Bull shit. Shit happens. There's

nothing that can be done about it.

When Blue Skies dropped anchor in the Quai de la

Citadelle, Stanley, Sophia, and Donald took the yacht's

launch ashore. The small seaport was charming, with a

variety of interesting shops and outdoor trattorie lining the

single road that led up to the hills. A dozen or so small

fishing boats were pulled up onto the pebbled beach.

Stanley turned to Sophia. "We'll have a lunch at the

hotel on top of the hill. There's a lovely view from there."

He nodded toward a taxi stopped beyond the docks. "Take a

taxi up there, and I'll meet you in a few minutes." He

handed her some money.

"Very well, dear."

His eyes followed her as she walked away; then he

turned to Donald. "I have to make a call."

But not from the ship, Donald thought. The men went

to the two phone booths at the side of the dock. Donald

watched as Stanley stepped inside one of them, picked up

the receiver, and inserted a token.

"Operator, I would like to place a call to the Union Bank

of Switzerland in Geneva."

A woman was approaching the second phone booth.

Donald stepped in front of it, blocking her way. "Excuse me,"

she said. "I ..."

"I'm waiting for a call."

She looked at him in surprise. "Oh." She glanced

hopefully at the phone booth Stanley was in.

"I wouldn't wait." Donald said with a grunting sound.

"He's going to be on the telephone for a long time."

The woman shrugged and walked away.

"Hello?"

Donald was watching Stanley speaking into the

mouthpiece.

"Peter? We have a little problem." Stanley closed the

door to the booth. He was speaking very fast, and Donald

could not hear what he was saying. At the end of the

conversation, Stanley replaced the receiver and opened the

door.

"Is everything all right, Mr. Stanley?" Donald asked.

"Let's get some lunch."

The Palazzu U Domu is the crown jewel of Ajaccio,

a hotel with a magnificent panoramic view of the emerald bay

below. The hotel caters to the very rich, and jealously

guards its reputation. Robert Stanley and Sophia had lunch

out on the terrace.

"Shall I order for you?" Stanley asked. "They have some

specialties here that I think you might enjoy."

"Please," Sophia said.

Stanley ordered the trenette al pesto, the local pasta,

veal, and focaccia, the salted bread of the region.

"And bring us a bottle of Schram eighty-eight." He

turned to Sophia. "It received a gold medal in the

International WINE Challenge in London. I own the

vineyard."

She smiled. "You're lucky."

Luck had nothing to do with it. "I believe that man was

meant to enjoy the gustatory delights that have been put on

the earth." He took her hand in his. "And other delights, too."

"You're an amazing man."

"Thank you."

It excited Stanley to have beautiful women admiring

him. This one was young enough to be his daughter and that

excited him even more.

When they had finished lunch, Stanley looked at Sophia

and smiled. "Let's get back to the yacht."

"Oh, yes!"

Robert Stanley was a changeable lover, passionate and

skilled. His enormous ego made him more concerned about

satisfying a woman than about satisfying himself. He knew

how to excite a woman's erotic zones, and he orchestrated his

lovemaking providing pleasure through gratification of the

senses and symphony that brought his lovers to heights they

had never achieved before. They spent the afternoon in

Stanley's suite, and when they were finished making love,

Sophia was exhausted. Robert Stanley dressed and went to

the bridge to see Captain Bargas.

"Would you like to go on to Sardinia, Signor Stanley?"

the captain asked.

"Let's stop off at Elba first."

"Yes, sir. Is everything satisfactory?"

"I hope so," Stanley said. "Everything is satisfactory."

He was feeling aroused again. He went back to Sophia's

stateroom. They reached Elba the following afternoon, and

anchored at Portoferraio. Elba is a Mediterranean island in

Tuscany, Italy. The largest island of the Tuscan Archipelago,

Elba is also part of the National Park of the Tuscan and the

third largest island in Italy after Sicily and Sardinia. It is

located between the Tyrrhenian Sea and Ligurian Sea, about

50 kilometers (30 mi) east of the French island of Corsica.

As the Boeing 727 entered North American airspace, the

pilot checked in with ground control.

"New York Center, Boeing eight nine-five is with you,

passing flight level two six zero for flight level two four

zero."

The voice of New York Center came on. "Roger, you are

cleared to one two thousand, direct JFK. Call approach on

one two seven point four."

From the back of the plane came a low growl. "Easy,

Prince. That's a good boy. Let's get this seat belt around

you."

There were four men waiting when the 727 landed.

They stood at different vantage points so they could watch

the passengers descend from the plane. They waited for

half an hour. The only passenger to come out was a black

German shepherd.

Portoferraio is the main shopping center of Elba. The

streets are lined with elegant, sophisticated shops, and

behind the harbor, the eighteenth-century buildings are

tucked under the craggy sixteenth-century citadel built by

the Duke of Florence.

Robert Stanley had visited the island many times, and in

a strange way, he felt at home here.

This was the place where Napoleon Bonaparte was

exiled by the Allied governments to Elba following his

abdication at Fontainebleau and landed on the island on 4

May 1814.

"We're going to look at Napoleon's villa," he told

Sophia. "I'll meet you there." He turned to Donald.

"Take her to the Villa del Mulini."

"Yes, sir."

Stanley watched Donald and Sophia leave. He looked at

his watch. Time was running out. His plane would already

have landed at JFKennedy. When they learned that he was

not aboard, the manhunt would begin again. It will take

them a while to pick up the trail, Stanley thought. By then,

everything will have been settled.

He stepped into a phone booth at the end of the dock.

"I want to place a call to London," Stanley told the

operator. "Barclay's Bank. One seven one ..."

Half an hour later, he picked up Sophia and brought her

back to the harbor.

"You go aboard," Stanley told her. "I have another call

to make."

She watched him stride over to the telephone booth

beside the dock. Why doesn't he use the telephones on the

yacht? Sophia wondered.

Inside the telephone booth, Robert Stanley was saying,

"The Sumitomo Bank in Tokyo ..."

Fifteen minutes later, when he returned to the yacht, he

was in a fury.

"Are we going to be anchoring here for the night?"

Captain Bargas asked.

"Yes," Stanley snapped. "No! Let's head for Sardinia.

Now!"

Sardinia is the second largest island in the

Mediterranean Sea. The coasts of Sardinia are generally

high and rocky, with long, relatively straight stretches of

coastline, many outstanding headlands, a few wide, deep

bays, rias, and many inlets and with various smaller islands

off the coast.

The island has a typical Mediterranean climate. During

the year there are approximately 300 days of sunshine, with a

major concentration of rainfall in the winter and autumn,

some heavy showers in the spring and snowfalls in the

highlands.

Porto Cervo is a small town in Sardinia. It's one of the

most beautiful places along the Mediterranean coast. The

little town of Porto Cervo is a haven for the wealthy, with a

large part of the area dotted with villas built by Alan Kimbal.

The first thing Robert Stanley did when they docked was

to head for a telephone booth. Donald followed him,

standing guard outside the booth.

"I want to place a call to Banca d'ltalia in Rome.”

The phone booth door closed.

The conversation lasted for almost half an hour. When

Stanley came out of the phone booth, he was in serious

trouble. Donald wondered what was going on. Stanley and

Sophia had lunch at the beach of Porto Cervo. Stanley

ordered for them. "We'll start with malloreddus." Flakes of

dough made of hard-grain wheat. "Then the porceddu."

Little suckling pig, cooked with myrtle and bay leaves. "For

a wine, we'll have the Vernaccia, and for dessert, we'll have

sebadas." Fried fritters filled with fresh cheese and grated

lemon rind, dusted with bitter honey and sugar.

"Bene, signor." The waiter walked away, impressed. As

Stanley turned to talk to Sophia, his heart suddenly skipped a

beat. Near the entrance to the restaurant two men were seated

at a table, studying him. Dressed in dark suits in the summer

sun, they were not even bothering to pretend they were

tourists. Are they after me or are they innocent strangers? I

mustn't let my imagination run away with me, Stanley

thought. Sophia was speaking.

"I've never asked you before. What business are you

in?"

Stanley studied her. It was refreshing to be with

someone who knew nothing about him. "I'm retired," he

told her. "I just travel around, enjoying the world."

"And you're all by yourself?" Her voice was filled with

sympathy. "You must be very lonely."

It was all he could do not to laugh aloud. "Yes, I am. I'm

glad you're here with me."

She put her hand over his. "I, too, dear."

Out of the corner of his eye, Stanley saw the two men

leave.

When luncheon was over, Stanley and Sophia and

Donald returned to town. Stanley headed for a telephone

booth. "I want the Credit Lyonnais in Paris ..."

Watching him, Sophia spoke to Donald. "He's a

wonderful man, isn't he?"

"There's no one like him."

"How long have you been with him?"

"Two years," Donald said.

"You're lucky."

"I know." Donald walked over and stood as a guard right

outside the telephone booth. He heard Stanley saying,

"Ben? You know why I'm calling ... Yes ... Yes ... You will?

... That's wonderful" His voice was filled with relief. "No not

there. Let's meet in Corsica... That's perfect after our

meeting, I can return directly home. Thank you, Ben."

Stanley put down the receiver. He stood there a moment,

smiling, and then dialed a number in Los Angeles. A

secretary answered. "Mr. Frank Harold's office."

"This is Robert Stanley. Let me talk to him."

"Oh, Mr. Stanley! I'm sorry, Mr. Frank Harold is on

vacation. Can someone else ...?"

"No. I'm on my way back to the States. You tell him I

want him in Los Angeles at Bell Air at nine o'clock Monday

morning. Tell him to bring a copy of my will and a notary."

"I'll try to..."

"Don't try. Do it, my dear." He put down the receiver

and stood there, his mind racing, when he stepped out of

the telephone booth, his voice was calm. "I have a little

business to take care of, Sophia. Go to the Grand Hotel and

wait for me."

"All right," she said flirtatiously. "Don't be too long."

"I won't."

The two men watched her walk away.

"Let's get back to the yacht," Stanley told Donald. "We're

leaving."

Donald looked at him in surprise. "What about ...?"

"She can screw her smart ass way back home."

When they returned to the Blue Skies, Robert Stanley

went to see Captain Bargas. "We're heading for Corsica," he

said "Let's move."

"I just received an updated weather report, Signor

Stanley I'm afraid there's a bad storm. It would be better if

we waited it out and..."

"I want to leave now, Captain."

Captain Bargas hesitated. "It will be a rough voyage, sir.

It's a libeccio...the southwest wind. We'll have heavy seas

and squalls."

"I don't care about that." The meeting in Corsica was

going to solve all his problems. He turned to Donald. "I want

you to arrange for a helicopter to pick up us in Corsica and

take to Roma. Use the public telephone on the dock."

"Yes, sir."

Donald Herman walked back to the dock and entered

the telephone booth. Twenty minutes later, Blue Skies was

under weigh.

BAD MOOD DRIVE

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