CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE You Can Never Go
Home
The day Anna
left for Argentina was difficult for her.
During those first few weeks following Michael’s death, I
received many letters from her. She
shared with me her feelings and pain.
The homecoming to Argentina
closed the circle of her life. With
Rolf close by, she had both a protector and friend.
Later, Anna called me
often and we spoke of her beautiful estancia and new life without
Michael. Rolf also wrote to
me frequently sharing his thoughts and assuring me that Anna
was safe and well cared for. The long evening
at the Biltmore had never ended Anna.
The blackness of that night had entered her soul.
As she looked out the Lear Jet window into the clouds that hung
closely about the small cabin, she was remembering the ugliness of it
all. Any peace that she now
felt was a false one, brought on by exhaustion and the numbing effect of
sedatives. The world that
they had all known was gone forever.
The man who had been the most important part of her life was now
a part of her past. Left,
were only the rich warm memories that would be with her for the rest of
her life. The three men in
the cabin with her were deep in their own thoughts.
Their lives had also been interrupted by the same great sense of
loss that she was feeling. The
love and stability that had been ripped away from her life had also been
the underpinning of their lives. The
two young men that Kenneth Aragón had sent along
with his mother and Rolf Grover were very respectful and helpful.
They treated her like a queen.
Kenneth, the tall dark one, acted as their driver.
And the shorter one with red hair, John Rodríguez,
was their valet. Her safety was the
most important consideration for her son, Kenneth.
He was a great deal like his father, rising to the occasion after
Michael’s death. Taking
charge, he made all arrangements to ensure family and friends were
protected. Michael Aragón had always put family first in his
life, so did his son. Kenneth
had assured Anna that her
second son, Benjamin, was being protected out of state.
Her daughter, Christina,
was also safe. César and the Contessa
were well guarded in Spain, caring for her beloved granddaughter.
And Anna knew that God
would protect me. As Anna looked out the windows, she could see the beautiful clouds
which broke occasionally to clear blue skies.
She wondered how such beauty could exist in a world filled with
such pain and sorrow. Anna then remembered a poem she had once read as a child. The skies above
the world with their beauty and calm His hands wrapped
round the world holding it all in He lets them go
free to work their will, Their thoughts
they will keep of those moments in time To meet them again
in this place so calm As she sat
thinking of her Michael, a gentle hand touched her shoulder.
She turned away from her thoughts to find Rolf smiling down at
her. Anna
placed her hand on his and patted it lightly.
Then she gripped it tightly and smiled at him.
The two said nothing as he sat down next to her.
Rolf took her hand in his and held it on his knee.
Tired, she leaned her head against his muscular shoulder and fell
quickly to sleep. As she
did, she thanked God that at least Rolf was still with her. Rolf too had felt
the great loss of his friend Michael Aragón.
He also felt the loss of the three young pups he’d trained and
learned to love as his own sons. This
was the curse of life, nothing was forever.
One loved and lost. Life
had its own script, the story of each man’s life written by God.
Each had a destiny, a part to play in a much larger drama.
Man had his plans, but in the end, they were only a wish list.
What truly mattered was the script provided by God. Rolf remembered
the closeness that he’d had over the years with Aragón. At
first, there had been the insane stalking of the man and the three days
of torture and torment. It
still bothered Rolf after all these years that he’d beaten Aragón so badly.
Next, came the forgiveness. Michael
not only forgave him, but reached out to Rolf and befriended him. And now, he found
himself thirty-five years later on a jet flying from Méjico to Argentina.
His passport read Rolf Grover.
To everyone he met, he was an American businessman.
But who was he really? Returning
to his second homeland, Argentina,
he took stock in himself and the years that had passed by so quickly.
In his lifetime, he had three lives.
Once, he’d been a warrior for Nazi Germany.
In Argentina, Rolf had
been a dependent of the Brenner family.
And in America, he’d become a successful businessman.
In a sense, he was about to begin his fourth life.
As he looked beyond a sleeping Anna
and out the window, he was taken by the beauty of the billowy clouds and
clear blue skies. Remembering back
to his businesses, from the beginning, Aragón had insisted that
Rolf become active in something, anything.
They discussed his strengths and weaknesses and decided upon a
gun shop. After all, he knew
weapons well. As an expert
marksman, it was a natural choice. So,
he established his little gun shop, selling antiques, as well as newer
weapons. Over a period of
time, his little shop became well known.
From there, Rolf expanded to a shooting club in Beverly Hills,
catering to the elite of show business and corporate executives.
His secure, plush club became the place to go.
Later, the city granted him the use of a portion of the building
as a restaurant. Serving
wine and champagne to his guests helped to expand his list of clientele.
Well-oiled gun enthusiasts loved shooting. In the late
seventies and early eighties, he had branched out into anti-terrorist
training for big corporate clients.
Finally, his firm provided a sophisticated bodyguard service to
wealthy clients in need of short-term protection.
His clients numbered Fortune 500 executives, Hollywood stars, and
political figures. Rolf’s
firm had grown to some fifty bodyguards, comprised of ex-FBI agents,
retired CIA operatives, and local law enforcement retirees.
Over time, the firm became well known to a select clientele
because Rolf had kept a low profile, ensuring that all police and
intelligence agencies understood and sanctioned his activities.
Over the years, Rolf Grover became known in the intelligence
community as a solid asset. From
time to time, he did favors for the American government.
He also assisted his friends in the Mexican Government.
Rolf purposely limited his activities to these two governments,
realizing to venture beyond the two could be dangerous. In his line of
business, Rolf’s relationship with Aragón could be easily
explained away, although no one knew anything about him.
Both governments understood that a man in his trade often dealt
with shadowy figures. It was
an accepted part of the business. There
was no unofficial way to contact men like Aragón.
Rolf was seen as a facilitator, getting information about the
shadow world when normal governmental channels couldn't.
On several occasions, Rolf had been approached by both
governments. If a war broke
out between Mafiosi, he would receive the discrete telephone
call. When a large drug deal
went bad and citizens were hurt, he supplied inside information.
In time, he had gained a reputation as a straight shooter.
The FBI understood his worth, as did the CIA and DEA.
His people had been asked to carry the odd package, with no
questions asked. At times,
he was requested to conduct surveillance for the CIA within the United
States, strictly a no-no. Rolf
became a man to know. The
local police would ask for inside information in matters where they had
hit a brick wall. Many times
Rolf’s information had helped them to look good.
Because of his contacts both in law enforcement and in the shadow
world he’d proven invaluable, a friend to all and an enemy to none. Rolf’s business
had also helped his relationship with Aragón.
The agencies looked the other way.
Knowing the code, they understood that his usefulness would come
to an end if he lost his shadow contacts.
As time went on, Aragón became only one of many acquaintances
from that world. Only he and
Michael knew the truth about their deep friendship. Over the years,
Rolf, Aragón, and Anna
spent many nights’ playing cards together.
Anna and Rolf knew that
Aragón cheated, but they never took offense.
He could be child-like at times.
Rolf spent his vacations and weekends with them, having his own
suite at each of their homes. The
three went to Fiesta in Santa Barbara
every August, drinking in the streets and dancing until the early
morning hours like all good tourists.
They also spent many vacations in Europe together, particularly
Spain. Remembering back,
his pleasant thoughts suddenly became ugly as he began to remember that
tragic night. Rolf had
arrived at the Biltmore seconds after the firefight had begun.
He could see that it was already too late.
Arriving through the valet street entrance, he had the attendant
park his car. He walked
through the large sitting area and into the walkway that led to the
second floor elevators hoping to catch Anna
and Aragón before they left the restaurant.
Rolf had purchased their anniversary gift and was anxious to show
them photographs of the antique clock.
As he entered the hall near the elevators, Rolf heard the sound
of muffled gunfire coming from the first floor.
Becoming concerned, he could hear loud popping noises and the
breaking of glass coming from the floor below.
As he ran toward the second floor landing, he knew the distinct
sounds could only be from automatic weapons fire.
The bullets from the weapons were shattering the large windows at
the Figueroa Street entrance of the hotel as he cautiously made his way
down the stairs. He watched
as hotel guests ran and shouted in fear and panic.
Women’s screams could be heard coming from everywhere.
Many people lay face down in the lobby area. He moved
efficiently down the staircase and into the alcove toward the demolished
windows. From there, he
first saw Vincente, then the others. The
three were wearing dark blue overcoats.
The young fools hadn’t taken cover as they’d been taught.
Instead, they stood tall and erect, shoulder to shoulder firing
their automatic weapons at the line of figures coming across the street.
Out of the corner of his eye, Rolf saw Robert shove Kenneth and Anna back inside the lobby of the Biltmore.
It was then that Rolf saw his friend Aragón lying wounded in a large pool of blood
on the sidewalk. Michael
wasn’t moving, that wasn’t a good sign.
It took Rolf less than ten seconds to make his way from the
stairs to the empty window casings at the front of the hotel.
Hiding behind a concrete wall, Rolf surveyed the street outside. Without a weapon,
he watched helplessly as his young pups fought the fine fight.
The boys never wavered for a moment.
But they acted in vain; there were too many of the enemy.
They were the human shield that stood between them and their
family. As with all men
fighting for their lives, they forgot the basics.
Making his way outside, Rolf could hear Sammy laughing
hysterically as he fired his weapon into the oncoming pistoleros.
It was clear to Rolf that Sammy had lost the ability to think
rationally. Stooping behind
a crashed car, Rolf watched as the pistoleros began to close on
the three boys from across the street.
There were at least ten of them firing automatic weapons as they
continued to move forward toward his three boys.
The scene had become surreal.
Only foolish men would engage an enemy, man-to-man.
Within seconds, Sammy was dead.
In a rage, Rolf ran and picked up a dead pistolero’s
weapon. Moving forward, he
attempted to draw fire away from the boys.
There were now only three figures returning fire from the street.
He shouted at the boys to take cover.
But it was too late; the two were in lock step, lost in a killing
frenzy. His boys could see
and hear nothing else, but the last three men firing at them.
It was then that a second group of nine or ten pistoleros
emerged from behind the low walls of Pershing square.
The battle had turned in favor of the attackers.
In just a few seconds the air was still.
The firing had stopped and all was silent. An angry, confused
Rolf surveyed the scene. Looking
up and down the street, he could see crashed cars riddled with bullet
holes. The sidewalk was
covered with a blanket of shattered glass.
His three precious boys lay dead in the middle of the street and
the bodies of pistoleros lay everywhere.
Looking toward the Biltmore, Rolf saw Anna
sitting on the sidewalk beside Michael, cradling his head in her lap.
Kenneth sat next to her on the ground in a state of shock. Rolf knew he had
to act quickly. He was
suddenly a soldier again. There
would be no false bravado, only the instincts of a cold hard warrior.
Rolf began systematically hunting what remained of the attackers.
From behind a parked car, he killed two of the pistoleros
standing in the middle of the street reloading, preparing to finish off
Kenneth. The others panicked
and broke. The advantage was
now his as he rushed the low walls across the street.
Jumping over the wall, he surprised a pistolero trying to
fix his jammed weapon. Now
tasting the blood of the kill, Rolf shot him twice in the head. He was cool and
calm as he began his hunt for the last pistoleros.
Rolf had begun his methodic search for the last of them.
Now inside the parking structure, he caught one pistolero
attempting to break into a car. He
shot him squarely in the face. A
second man was trying to run down the steep exit ramp, and Rolf shot him
several times in the back. A
car suddenly came racing up the exit ramp toward Rolf, the men inside
firing at him. As the car
sped toward him, Rolf knelt and emptied his magazine into the vehicle.
It exploded twenty feet from him, sending a door hurtling through
the air. As the car burned,
he could see or hear no one else. Suddenly, Rolf
heard several men running into the parking structure, shouting to one
another in Spanish. Moving
quickly and hiding behind a parked auto, Rolf watched in silence as they
checked each of the dead men for any signs of life.
Each time they came upon a man, they did the same thing.
First, they checked for life signs, they then shot him in the
head. In a cold calculated
fashion, they took pleasure from each shot fired.
It was then that he realized they were Eme soldiers.
The vatos were avenging their fallen leader and friends. Rolf watched as
the vatos shot the last pistolero in the head.
At that moment, he heard police sirens off in the distance.
The men in front of him also heard them.
Next, Rolf could hear police bull horns.
The men broke and ran, realizing the police were now on the
scene. Rolf made his escape,
dressed in black tie. He
knew no one would question him. As
he made his way to the street behind Pershing Square, Rolf walked
several blocks out of the way until he could access the Biltmore Hotel
from the valet entrance. Once
inside, he was stopped by a uniformed officer who asked if he was guest
in the hotel. Rolf said only
that he was there to dine with friends.
The policeman was quick to explain the situation and advise that
he leave the premises. Rolf
agreed and walked out to the exit area.
There he gave his parking ticket to the woman in the small
office. Dispatching a valet,
she asked Rolf to wait outside where his car would be delivered.
Within minutes his car was waiting.
Quickly tipping the attendant, he left.
Rolf was glad that he wouldn't be around to answer questions. It was now late at
night, and the streets were deserted as he drove toward the Harbor
Freeway entrance. The impact
of the killings slowly began to sink in.
It was odd; he felt no anger, fear, or pain.
There was only a numbing sense of relief that it was over.
Driving toward Beverly Hills, he returned to his senses.
Picking up his cellular phone, he began dialing Aragón's house. Stopping
himself, he realized that his messages would be heard by the police once
they accessed the house. Instead,
he chose to drive to a small bar he knew well. The bar was oddly
quiet as he entered. Patrons
were glued to the large screen television set, watching a special
newscast in progress. Sitting
at the bar, he asked for a whiskey.
The bartender quickly accommodated him.
He began nursing his drink as the media continued its coverage of
the carnage. The blonde
anchorwoman was discussing the gangland killings.
Early reports of terrorists had been dismissed.
Police officials being interviewed stated that the situation was
in hand. Preliminary reports
suggested that the killings were in fact drug related.
The newscaster concluded by saying that the men found dead
included Michael Aragón, a local Hispanic businessman.
Rolf's heart sank as he heard the announcement of Michael’s
death. He’d hoped against
all hope that his friend Michael had survived.
As the police spokesman continued his report, he stated that
there were no survivors. Rolf
knew then that his young pups were all in a better place.
The thought of it pained him.
He drank down the rest of his whisky and shouted out to the
bartender for a second. It
came in short order. A
tired, hurting Rolf sat at the bar nursing his second drink, then a
third, and finally a fourth. He
wanted to hear that all was well with his friends.
But that was not to be. Sitting
and listening for several more minutes as the newscasters continued
their story about the massacre, there was no more to be gained from the
news reports, so he left. Arriving home just
after midnight, he walked into his study.
Pouring himself a scotch, Rolf sat on his large overstuffed
leather couch and undid his tie. Looking
around the room, his eyes focused on photos of he and Aragón taken over the years.
His favorites were of their fishing trips to Baja
and hunting trips to Idaho. Also
on the wall were those of himself and his three boys.
Rolf’s shaky hand dropped his glass on the tiled floor.
It shattered into a million pieces, just as his life had.
Placing his hands over his face, he began to cry.
The tears lasted minutes as he struggled with his pain.
He tried to maintain his composure, but Rolf didn’t have the
strength. Standing up tall
and erect, he shook his head. In
a low cracking voice, he said simply, “No, no.
I won't shed another tear. We
all choose our path in life.” The
words had been painful for him to recite.
An empty Rolf walked over to the door of the study and turned off
the lights. Then he slowly
made his way up the stairs and into his bedroom.
Never one for clutter, his room was spotless.
Slipping off his jacket, he wanted only to sleep.
He placed it on the bed and lay down, quickly drifting off to
sleep. The next morning,
he awoke to the sounds of birds chirping and a steady pounding in his
head. Rolling over to look
at the time, it was seven-thirty. His
mind was jolted awake as he remembered the pain of the past night.
Rolf didn’t want to think, he wished only to sleep it all away.
As he rolled over to force himself to sleep again, the phone
rang. Rolf didn't want to
answer it, preferring to let it ring forever.
Rolf knew if he answered it, he would have to deal with reality;
he let it ring until it stopped. Later
that morning, he sat on his brick patio under a billowy blue and white
striped canopy. He’d
always liked sitting at his lawn table and reading the morning
newspaper, enjoying the warm California sunshine and gentle breezes.
Slowly drinking a large Scotch, Rolf pondered the ugly events of
the night before. The warm
morning sun and soft gentle breeze relaxed Rolf as he thought through
his next course of action. He
wanted to contact Anna and
Kenny, but he knew to attempt it would be a mistake.
If they needed him, he would soon get a visit.
Standing up to pour another Scotch, Rolf felt the cold steel of a
gun barrel at the back of his neck.
“Sit down Mr. Grover.” The husky voice demanded in a low, barrio
accented English. “Is
there anyone else here?” The
man asked in a firm, no nonsense tone.
“No, I'm alone.” Rolf
responded calmly, not attempting to move.
“Good. Then will
you please sit down Mr. Grover.” The
man’s voice seemed friendlier, less anxious.
Rolf sat quietly, staring straight ahead, not knowing what to
expect. “I'm sorry for the
scare. I just had to know
that you were alone before I could give you the message from Mr. Aragón.” The
man was genuine in his apology. Rolf
had thought the use of the words, Mr. Aragón, strange.
Since Michael Aragón was now dead it sounded odd to him.
Then it came to him, Kenny was now the head of the Eme.
The torch had been passed. The tall, thin vato
in an expensive suit gave Rolf the message.
He was to meet Anna in Méjico
in two days and then accompany her to Argentina.
Rolf’s agreement was sent back to Kenneth.
It was done. His
decision was made. He would
leave Los Angeles forever. Before
leaving, the vato handed him an envelope containing everything
needed for the trip. After finishing
his Scotch, Rolf made the necessary telephone calls to his attorney.
He’d always kept documents prepared for just such a time.
All assets were to be turned over to his attorney, Mel.
Mel Feinstein was a good man.
The two had worked together ever since Michael introduced them,
over thirty years before. With
power of attorney, Mel would follow the instructions in his possession.
Once in Argentina, Rolf
would have access to his Swiss bank accounts.
A millionaire, Rolf would need for nothing.
He made his way to the study to begin sorting valuables. This
would be Rolf’s last act regarding personal property in America.
He would never return. Cleaning
out the safe, he placed its contents into a leather briefcase.
Rolf was just going through the motions; the papers meant little
to him. Two days later, as
Rolf sat planning out his trip to Méjico,
he heard the doorbell ring. Opening
the door, he was greeted by a large man holding a newspaper.
The man introduced himself as FBI Special Agent Denahy.
They spoke for a half hour about Aragón and the killings
at the Biltmore. Rolf
didn’t care for the man’s attitude.
After the agent left, Rolf walked upstairs to his bedroom and
began his final preparations for departure.
He was to be at the Fullerton airport that afternoon for a short
flight into Mexico. Within an hour,
he was packed and ready to go. Leaving his home
for the short ride across town, he was sure to take several side trips
to be sure that no one was following him.
Rolf got on and off at various freeway off-ramps.
Doubling back twice to see if he had a tail, no one was following
him. Arriving at Fullerton
Airport on time, Rolf was in the air within minutes.
A small Piper Cub airplane had been waiting for him when he
arrived. The pilot said
little during the flight. The
man was a professional, asking no questions and giving no answers.
The Piper Cub landed at an airstrip in Baja
three hours later. Met
by two Mexican Mafia men in an
old car, they quickly searched him for weapons.
Once satisfied that he was clean, they placed Rolf in the car.
They drove him to a large rancho
some twenty minutes from the airstrip.
The rancho had an
airplane hanger with a long runway.
Driven to the hanger, he saw the Lear Jet on the airstrip.
At the hanger, he was again searched by two young men and then
watched carefully until they received a call on a cellular phone.
Rolf was then taken to the jet. Boarding, he found
Anna in the cabin.
She was happy to see him. By
the looks of her, Anna had been through a hard time.
The two hugged one another and smiled, though neither had much to
say. Both were very tired.
It had been a difficult time.
Rolf asked about Kenneth. Anna
told him that Kenny was well and now in charge of all of his father's
affairs. Rolf was pleased
that Kenny was in control. It
was apparent from the security measures that nothing was being left to
chance. They settled down
for the long flight to Argentina.
Once airborne, the young men served Anna
and Rolf drinks and sandwiches. Later,
they brought magazines and Mexican newspapers.
The tall young man, Kenneth, did his best to make them
comfortable offering the two pillows and blankets.
It was obvious to Rolf that these young men were well-trained and
disciplined. Rolf woke up and
looked at his watch they’d been airborne many hours.
Looking down at Anna
sleeping on his shoulder, she finally looked peaceful.
At that moment, the pilot alerted them that the decent had begun.
Rolf returned to the here and now.
He looked forward to seeing Argentina,
a world he’d left a lifetime ago. Wiping the sleep
from her eyes, Anna looked out
the window as the Lear Jet prepared for a landing.
Anna couldn't make out
the landscape below. For a
moment, her mind was flooded with images from her past in Argentina.
As the jet began its turn to make its final decent, she looked
out the cabin window. Then
she saw it, Casa Castillo.
The estancia was just
as it had always been, large and beautiful.
The stables and walls had all been rebuilt.
Aragón had planned the rebuilding of the estancia
well, including a private airstrip with a radio and communications
tower. Hidden in a deep
concrete bunker, he had built a modern communications center.
Anna could see the
helicopter pad just south of the tower.
There were other additions, a large swimming pool, tennis courts,
polo field, and several guest houses. Michael had taken
great care in his planning of the estate, thinking of everyone’s
needs. Just north of the estancia,
a horse racetrack had been built, including seating stands at one end of
the track. Next to it was a
cluster of small bungalows for the staff which fronted a new five acre
lake. This was truly a
paradise. Happy to finally
be home, Anna was confused.
She didn't know quite how to feel.
Saddened by the loss of Aragón, the man who had given her so much,
she was still in pain. Her
mind flooded with beautiful and painful memories from her past.
Nothing had worked out as she had envisioned in her youth.
Anna had dreamed of
living a fairy tale life. Imagining
nothing but beauty and joy, she had expected a picture perfect life.
She pictured herself in a large, beautiful estancia of her
own. Back then, she saw
herself with many children and grandchildren.
Anna believed that her
life would be peaceful and rich. But
that was never to be. Instead,
her life had been one disaster after another.
Each time Anna had fallen down, she had brushed herself off and stood tall,
only to be knocked down again. “Well
I’m home.” She said out
loud. At that moment, the
Lear Jet touched down. “Yes you are.”
A smiling Rolf commented,
understanding her pain. Undoing
his seat belt, he reached out to hold her.
Placing her head against his chest, Anna
began to cry. He comforted
her, telling her all would be well.
“We’re home, Anna.”
He said softly as he stroked
her hair. Anna
looked up at Rolf with tear filled eyes.
“But you can never go home again.” Anna
said, as her eyes peered out the window to get a view of her beloved Argentina
after thirty-eight years. Michael Aragón had paid millions to reproduce an
exact replica of her former home and surrounding buildings.
He’d engaged private detectives to locate employees of her
father’s who were still alive. Rolf
had helped by locating Helmut Mueller, the man who had worked at the
neighboring Brenner villa for
many years. Mueller was able
to find original blue prints and many of the men who had participated in
the estancia’s original expansion.
César Romero had arranged for Spanish contractors, architects,
consultants, and crews to be responsible for construction.
In this way, he could control the flow of information.
All knowledge of the plans and construction were kept a secret.
Local craftsmen were used only when necessary, and only under the
tightest security. No
cameras were allowed. All
workmen were searched coming and going.
Upon Michael’s request, Rolf was put in charge of security.
He’d secretly flown in twenty-five veteranos from the
East Side to act as security. During
construction, they patrolled the estate’s perimeters day and night. The latest
technologies were purchased and installed.
Radio communications and satellite links were obtained through
Rolf’s friends. Ground
movement sensors were placed strategically outside the estancia’s
walls. Security cameras were
placed in the trees outside the walls and on the walls themselves.
Anyone approaching the estancia could be closely
monitored. Aragón had planned and built a beautifully
appointed fortress. Aragón went as far as to have a tunnel
constructed which led from the main house to the underground power
station. This would serve as
a safe retreat in times of trouble.
In the tunnel were stores of munitions and an assortment of
weapons. There were also
survival supplies. A small
group of men could hold off an army for hours from there. After taxiing a
short distance, the jet came to a stop.
Anna looked out the
window to find a car waiting. John
began to unload luggage in preparation for deplaning.
Kenneth, the driver, was the first one out the door.
He went to the waiting Mercedes Benz limousine and replaced the
driver. Once the Benz was
loaded, Anna and Rolf were
escorted to the limo. Kenneth
Aragón had been right.
John found Uzzis waiting for them under the driver’s seat.
After Anna and Rolf
were seated, the limo took them down the long straight stone road
leading to the estancia. Beautiful
flowers and shrubs lined both sides of the roadway.
It took only a minute to get to the front of the estancia. A very old Lorraina,
Jose’s wife, was waiting with the estancia staff at the
bottom of stone steps. Jose’s
grandson, Miguel, walked toward the car and bowed as Anna stepped out of the limo. Jose’s
granddaughter, Lita,
handed Anna a dozen yellow roses. The
others clapped as Anna
accepted them. Aragón had left nothing to chance.
Rolf had seen to that. Following
the staff, Anna and Rolf made their way up the stone steps to the landing
above. As she reached the
top of the steps, Anna saw the
family's coat of arms above the large entry doors.
It was depicted as a shield with one vertical blue line with
lions on either side. The
fierce creatures faced one another in profile.
A golden castle was perched on the top of the shield.
The inscription read, “For Honor”.
The coat of arms made Anna
feel welcomed and gave her the courage to push open the large, hand
crafted, wooden main entry doors. What
Anna saw was magical, a restored Casa Castillo. She
walked through the foyer past the large brass urn filled with fresh red
and yellow roses. To her
right was the massive wooden staircase leading to the second story.
As Anna stood in the
foyer looking about, a man came out of the hallway.
Introducing himself as Helmut Mueller, he handed her a fine box
of German chocolates. She
suddenly felt like a little girl again, remembering the way Uncle Clause
had always brought her candies. Anna then walked across the foyer into the large main floor study.
On the wall above the fireplace was a painting of her mother and
father that had miraculously survived the fire of long ago.
She remarked to Rolf that Father and Uncle Clause discussed
important matters there in the study.
Rolf only smiled and nodded.
Motioning for Rolf to join her, they sat in the two high backed,
Louis XIV chairs positioned around a beautifully ornate Victrola.
As they talked, bright sunlight streamed into the room from the
large French windows situated directly behind them.
The sunlight brought out the colors in the room.
While Anna and Rolf sat talking about the estancia, Helmut was
drawn to the French windows. The
view of the front gate of the estancia walls and surrounding
landscape with its beautiful trees was something to behold. As Rolf joined
Helmut at the windows, Anna
remembered back to those many years ago when she had returned from
vacation in Paris. For a
teenager, the trip had been a long one.
Anna remembered
arriving that day and being hungry.
She went into the kitchen and was greeted by young Miguelito, Jose’s son.
The two ate Lorraina’s fresh cookies together.
She could still smell the cookies as her mind returned to the
present. Being home and in
the estancia brought back many good memories.
An excited Anna wanted
to see more. Grabbing
Rolf’s hand, she led him into kitchen.
There she found Miguelito,
Jose’s grandson. To
her amazement, the boy looked exactly like his father.
Miguelito offered her a
cookie and she sat for a few moments with the young boy as he talked
about the estancia. After a while,
Rolf and Helmut led her up the staircase to the second floor.
Making her way down the hall, Anna
entered her bedroom. The
room was exactly as it had once been.
It faced the front entrance of the estancia.
She looked with delight through the tall French windows and
surveyed the beautiful grounds below.
Shrubs and flowerbeds had been planted around the rebuilt
courtyard fountain. Large
trees lined the stone walkways. Thick,
dark green ivy grew on the stone walls surrounding the estancia.
Anna was delighted with
what she saw. Casa
Castillo was once again whole. Knowing
Anna was tired, Rolf and
Helmut left her alone to be with her thoughts. That evening, Rolf
and Helmut joined her for dinner. Miguel’s
grandmother, Lorraina, served.
The food and wine were excellent.
After the meal, the three spent several hours relaxing.
It was late when Anna
went off to bed. The men
played chess and drank brandy well into the early morning hours.
As they sat in the study playing chess, the men talked of the Argentina of the thirties and forties.
Helmut was invited to spend the night at the estancia.
It was after three in the morning when they said good night.
Rolf made it a point to check in on Anna
twice that night. He also
made sure that Johnny and Kenneth were patrolling the grounds during
their shifts. Each was alert
and armed when Rolf approached them unexpectedly in the dark.
Neither was taken by surprise.
Kenneth had chosen well. The next morning,
Rolf was up early saddling Anna’s
stallion which had been shipped from the stables in Santa
Barbara. After saddling
his mount, Rolf left both horses in the stalls and went back to the
house. When he arrived, Anna was having breakfast in the kitchen with young Miguel.
Rolf joined them for coffee.
The three talked about touring the estancia that day.
As breakfast ended, Rolf invited Anna
to go riding. The thought of
it made her happy. Rolf and Anna
took the saddled horses from their stalls and walked them to the horse
track Aragón had built.
Talking about Aragón as they walked
the horses once around the track made them both miss the big man.
Then they rode the horses into the countryside.
As they approached the tree line, they spotted Johnny following
on horseback in the trees. When
Rolf looked to the rear, Kenneth was following at a safe distance.
Rolf was pleased with their dedication.
Anna said nothing, as
she brought her stallion to a full gallop. The days were
pleasant for Anna.
After her morning rides, the duties of the estancia filled
her time. Seeing to the
daily chores, she directed the staff’s efforts.
The cleaning of the house and maintenance of the stables demanded
constant attention. The
twenty-six maids, drivers, cooks, bodyguards, laborers, and technicians
had to be fed and cared for. Her
new life had great demands. Anna received her first letter from Kenny on her third day at the estancia.
Explaining that all was well, he wrote of his plan to visit once
things settled down. This
pleased her. Benjamin also
wrote, his letters arriving weekly.
Christina wrote the
most, her letters arrived daily. Anna had been at the estancia for two weeks when César
and the Countessa came for an extended stay.
César shared with Anna
that Kenneth had given him control of all Family companies, bank
accounts, banks, in short, everything the family owned.
He explained to Anna
that he had accepted gladly. Anna was pleased that her long-time friend was running the family
businesses; she no longer had the heart for it.
Knowing the value of the holdings was now in the billions of
dollars; Anna understood the
kindness of the act. Kenneth
had given César immense
financial power, and Anna felt
it a wise move. César
could be trusted to do the right thing.
Their families were as close as blood relatives. Bringing Rolf good
news during that first dinner, César
produced an envelope. The
letter had been given to him by Michael Aragón to hold until the
five gathered together at the estancia after Aragón’s retirement.
César felt it was time
to reveal the contents of the letter that held a trust deed to the
Brenner Villa.
He explained to those present that Aragón had purchased the property from a
retired Argentine general who had received it as a gift from Perón. It was a present
for Rolf. The circle was now
complete. Saying little,
Rolf read the letter from Aragón. His
eyes misting over, he offered a toast to Aragón. The Romeros stay helped Anna
through the pain of her loss. The
four went on daily excursions to nearby towns, buying antiques.
They rode in the mornings and played cards well into the night.
César and the Countessa invited prominent families from the district to dinner,
feeling that Anna should be
introduced to her neighbors and once again join Argentine society.
The weeks passed enjoyably. Anna
was now settled into her new life. It was March of
1990, and César and the Countessa had already returned to their home in Spain.
As always, Anna and Rolf spent a great deal of time together.
After dinner one evening, the Argentine news program, Mundo
Television, was full of news stories about the Eme striking
at the Colombians. Twenty-three
Colombians from the Marquez
family were killed within one week.
The Argentine press was full of reports about the March 25th
assaults on Colombian gangsters in Chicago.
The Colombian Cartel’s Chicago Empire was finished. Several days
later, Anna heard the
heartbreaking news. The
Colombians had made their way to Santa
Barbara to the villa where
Kenny, Rita, and Baby Anna lived.
At 9:13 in the morning, when Rita
turned the key in the ignition of her car, Rita
Solas-Aragón was killed by a Colombian
car bomb. Kenneth called
his mother that same morning. Shattered
by Rita’s death, Anna told him to come and see me, asking that we pray together.
Anna was happy to hear that Baby Anna would be safe in Spain with César and the Countessa
by the following day. In November, Christina
came to visit. The two spent
a great deal of time together. Enjoying
her work at the law firm, Christina
had been made a full partner. Her
life had become a series of flights and hotel stays as she traveled
around the country litigating cases.
Christina was tired. The
strain of her father’s death and her mourning had left Christina exhausted. Rita’s
death had left her searching for the meaning of life, so much so, that
she had begun attending church again.
Burying herself in work hadn’t stopped the loneliness.
What she needed was to be with her mother.
Christina stayed for
three weeks. Anna,
Rolf, and she rode every morning. Anna
and Christina spent many late afternoons shopping for antiques together
in the surrounding towns. Rolf
and Christina drank brandy,
smoked cigars, and played chess into the night.
By the end of the third week, Christina’s
health had returned and she was her old self again.
Rolf’s fatherly attention had helped close the wound that Aragón’s death had left. Leaving
for New York, she promised to return for Christmas. The first week of
December brought a visit from Benjamin.
Like Christina,
Benjamin had suffered greatly over his father’s death.
He too had buried himself in his work.
The news that César
had been given the family businesses to run was welcomed.
Benjamin was ready for a change.
The change came in the form of a mergers and acquisitions firm.
César had helped
Benjamin form the new corporation, Aragón International.
Within the first two weeks, Benjamin had begun his first
acquisition of a fledgling technologies company.
Three weeks later, he’d begun two more acquisitions.
His friends from his Harvard days began calling the firm the
House of Aragón. On his arrival in Argentina,
Benjamin and his mother spent the first week going over the books for
the estancia. He
personally interviewed each staff member.
Two days were dedicated to surveying the property and holdings.
Once satisfied that the estancia was profitable, he moved
on to Anna’s personal
assets. A week was spent on
this project. By the time
Christina arrived on the twentieth of December, he had completed his
mother’s asset review. A
happy Benjamin pronounced her a rich woman. Christmas Eve was
a wonderful night for Anna.
Rolf and the children invited twenty guests for a special dinner.
Their Argentine guests were enchanted by her two children.
Both spoke Spanish well and were able to discuss Argentina’s favorite subjects, money and politics.
Rolf listened proudly to his surrogate children as they
captivated their guests. Anna’s
dreams for them had been realized. They
were well-read and well-rounded. She
had dedicated herself to them, and her attention had paid dividends.
Both Rolf and Anna had
hoped that Kenny could have joined them.
But both knew that he had a task to complete.
The children left two days later, promising to return soon.
Rolf and Anna returned
to a quiet house, one full of new memories.
They were both older now and needed the peace and calm that a
quiet house brought. The following
week, Rolf decided to turn his attention to his new home.
Spending the following day at the Brenner Villa, he could see all around him the orderliness of the German
mind and the fruits it produced. He
saw it in the size and construction of the villa.
The interior finishing work of the house was a testament to the
details that a master carpenter had exacted from each and every piece of
wood. Brenner had thought
out each part of the structure. The
stonework and masonry were still in excellent shape.
Each block fit perfectly in place, a testament to Brenner’s
engineering and craftsmanship. The
design and overall scheme of the property and its buildings demonstrated
order and efficiency. The
property’s neatly trimmed gardens, fruit trees, and grape vines were
laid out in a uniform fashion. While
the gardens brought beauty to the villa,
the vegetable patches provided food for the help.
Brenner had thought of everything. Wandering about
the second floor of the Brenner villa,
Rolf found the doors to the veranda
opened. The cool morning air
flowed into the villa,
bringing with it the sweet aroma of flowers.
Walking about the veranda,
he looked around and was pleased with what he saw.
The large concrete urns full of bright flowers and fragrant
plants placed strategically on the veranda still remained after all
these years. They had been
positioned every five feet along the balustrade.
The hanging red clay flower pots on wrought iron hooks still hung
from the ceiling above the veranda
balustrades. The effect
remained dazzling. Deciding to spend
the night, Rolf called Anna
and informed her. The staff
was happy that the new owner had finally decided to stay.
The house was full of preparation for the evening.
Descending the large staircase for dinner, Rolf was greeted by
his friend Helmut. When he
reached the first floor landing, the two men hugged.
The abrasso was still the way Argentine men welcomed one
another. The two then went
into the study to talk and drink brandies until dinner was served.
Within a few minutes Ramon,
the house boy, announced that dinner was to be served on the veranda.
The two made their way outside and seated themselves at the
table. The young man
efficiently placed the linen napkin on their laps.
He asked only, "Café
Señores?" The
men nodded their replies and the young man poured.
The strong aroma of the Argentine coffee traveled across the
table, mixing with the sweet smell of the flowers.
Enjoying the coffee, they talked about the villa
and what needed to be done. Now ready for
dinner, Rolf signaled Ramon.
To Argentine households, dinner meant the traditional barbequed
steak and potatoes. The
argentine bread was fluffy and white, unlike the dark thick German
bread. As the large tray
arrived heaped with food, it made Rolf hungry.
Having placed the tray on the table, Ramon
stood by waiting to serve. The
men waived the young boy away, preferring to serve themselves.
The food was excellent, and the fruity German wine was perfect.
Night hadn’t quite fallen as the two finished their meal and
began to rise from the table. As
they did, Rolf looked out on the vineyards and smiled.
He was finally home. 06/21/2016 06:30 AM |