CARLOS & KATRINA

A Novel by Charles Adrian Trevino
Copyright 2006, 2021
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Chapter 44

David Geeken tilted back his huge, luxurious easy chair, smiling at the young man seated opposite him. He had just heard something that interested him immensely; something he had been waiting to hear, in fact. His guest had just informed him that he had completely had it with a certain mutual enemy of theirs, a mortal enemy that had offended them both far beyond the point of restraint; a rank parvenu who had most certainly overstepped his boundaries, and trespassed beyond all reason: the despised Mayinkan musician, Carlos Fontana. This young friend, who was due to inherit some money and join Geeken's private "insiders" club, had lost all restraint and patience with Fontana, and had decided to do something about this now-dangerous upstart; something permanent.

"So tell me more, Jacob!" slabbered Geeken; his somewhat less-than-desirable visage had gone bright with interest.

"With pleasure, my man," Jacob grinned back at his surly host. "I'm glad we're on the same page on this matter, Dave!"

"So... you've already talked to your guy, this thing is all set up, huh?" Geeken was rubbing his hands together, as if he were washing them with imaginary soap.

"Well... no, not exactly," said Jacob, picking up the drink sitting on the table beside his easy chair, as he looked around at the lavishly furnished and decorated room he was lounging in. "We haven't decided yet on where to actually do the job..."

"Philly... do it in Philly," Geeken interrupted. "They've got a big show there at the Rothman-Loews arena; we can get your guy's hit squad out of there real fast... we've got underground tunnels to heliports, the whole shot. I would definitely try to do it in Philly."

"Oh! It sounds like you know a lot about Fortune's tour!" Jacob's grin had turned into a sick leer. "Excellent, David, that's just what we need... we're a team, you and I. With your brains, and my looks, we could go far... real far, amigo! Ha ha ha..."

"With my looks and your blood lust, don't you mean? But let's definitely do it in Philly, Jacob; I know the Rothman arena like the back of my hand, from the old days! It's a beaut... we can get your guys up on the stage real easy, then get 'em out of there quick, no problem." Geeken was leaning forward in his chair now. His interest had definitely been piqued by this new development in the matter of Carlos Fontana... his number one fixation.

"Well, then... sounds like a plan, my man! When abouts do you think they'll be playing the Philly arena, now?" Jacob asked, now also leaning forward in his chair, to better hear his knowledgable role model's advice.

"Soon... within a week, I know that; I've been following that cunt Frank Fortune's tour, I know that dummy's every move. You should definitely do it there, but you'd better get moving." Geeken's eyes narrowed as he thought of Frank Fortune... another rank upstart.

"I can't fucking get moving until you tell me when the fucking concert is... man!" Jacob practically yelled the words out at Geeken, still grinning.

"Ok, alright, asshole! I'll get up and get the exact dates in a minute, just gotta' make a phone call... no, better yet Jake, why don't you call me back in about an hour? That'll give me time to heads-up the guys over there that something's about to happen. Yeah, get out of here... call me in an hour. I'll have everything set up by then," Geeken said, his expression serious now.

"Oh, you will, will you? Alright, Dave! Sounds like we got a plan, my man... I'll get right back to you in an hour, don't forget about me now! Ha ha... I know you won't..." Jacob chortled, as he put his glass back down on the table and rose up from his chair. He was feeling much better... now he had some first-rate support in this endeavor. He turned to leave.

"Oh, Jacob... you know why we gotta' move fast on this, don't you?" Geeken's voice called out after him. "You heard about the wedding, right?

Jacob spun around to look at his host once again. "What wed..." the words trailed off into space.

"Oh, you didn't know... the very high-class, social-climbing Katrina Fury is to marry the noble Prince of Peace, Carlos Fontana... on Saturday morning."  Geeken spat out the words with a look of absolute disgust contorting his face. "I didn't think you'd want to see that happen."

Jacob stood motionless for a few seconds, as the billionnaire mogul watched him intently, practically feeding on his pain and hatred. What Jacob hadn't realized was that the depravedly intrusive Geeken knew all about his brief little affair with Katrina, and the depths of his mad fixation; he knew that Jacob had been obsessively in love with Katrina, and that he was now watching that last dying ember, of what Jacob knew as love, flicker out completely. Geeken felt an immense feeling of satisfaction, and happiness -- this was what the wealthy, sick Usher absolutely lived for; to make people hate each other. He did it for sport. Another demented grin slowly began to spread across the starmaker's evil face.

Jacob's mind began to whirl around in circles, as he tried to assimilate what he had just heard into his own plans, thoughts... and twisted emotions. In spite of himself, sentimental childhood scenes began flashing through his mind; the first time he had seen a very young Katrina Fury, running in a beautiful Westview Park in pursuit of a swiftly fleeing dog; standing almost right next to her in the cafeteria lines at school; hearing her voice, her laughter; seeing her grow into a ravishing beauty, and lusting obsessively after her from that point on. Investing his precious time and a hell of a lot of money, just to build a secret shrine to her... his albums of intimately private, criminally-procured Katrina pictures and movies.

And now this had happened... this disgusting thing had invaded her world, hypnotized her with his negative, poisonous black magic, and was about to carry her off to his dark netherworld, to plunder and destroy her noble soul. And he was supposed to just stand back and watch the foul creature do it... destroying Jacob's soul also, in the process! Something in Jacob had died, something proud, strong, and noble. And it was all because of Fontana... Carlos Fontana. His arch-enemy, the hated foe who didn't even know he existed.

But he had tried hard to change that; Jacob had embarrassed himself no end when he'd emphatically told Mike Douglas, the master hitman, that he was to instruct his gunman to tell Fontana who had really done him in... Jacob Rosenberg... before he made his escape. Jacob had cursed himself for not thinking the thing out after Douglas chided him, pointing out that the hired triggerman would then know who had paid him, and who to blackmail or hound if he somehow got caught. Somehow the denial of this simple request, which would have put the crowning touch on a perfectly committed crime, was bothering Jacob immensely now. He had wanted Fontana to know who he was, damn it! Now his last chance to realize this wish would be gone... along with Fontana.

Jacob sighed... then, seeing that Geeken was gleefully appreciating his misery and pain, he quickly snapped back into his old high-spirited, combative persona. Grinning wickedly himself, Jacob raised his head up proudly and leered right back at his old friend. "Don't let him see your pain, your humiliation," he thought to himself, fiercely. "Don't ever let any bastard see." Instead, he gave Geeken a positive nod of his head. Still grinning proudly, Jacob spun around on his heel and strode out of the room.

Geeken stood there for a minute, his evil smile still in place. Then he let out a loud whoop of joy, and danced over to the large, ornate desk by the large picture window. Opening up a drawer, Geeken groped about inside for his large, leather-bound book of phone numbers. Pulling it out, he began to rapidly flip through the pages, until he found the number he was looking for. "Oh I live and breathe, for that Philadelphia freedom!" Geeken sang under his breath, repeating the lyrics of a song popularized by one of his best employees and friends; Geeken had many, many high-class friends.

Punching the phone number quickly, Geeken stood and listened to the ringing at the other end. Smiling when the recorded greeting ended and a familiar Goons in Poses song came on (nice way to help the waiting caller enjoy the passing time), Geeken breathed a sigh of relief; his most pressing problem was about to be solved for him by a clueless novice, who was trying to play Usher. Geeken could positively smell blood; he was about to get his man, and would be completely above and beyond suspicion when it happened. Jacob had taken the bait and set himself up, hook, line and sinker, to take the fall if and when it came. But the fall probably wouldn't occur... it never did, when big Usher money was involved.

Geeken waited patiently, not registering on the idiot background music he himself had brought into existence; instead, his friend's song kept wafting through his mind. It was a great song; it had made him a lot of money, too.

"Oh, I live and breathe... uh, hello, Saul? Its me again! Listen, I got a little problem, I need to talk to you offline, if ya' know what I mean... can you switch to max-encrypted? Yeah, I'll wait, call me back... I'm ok on this end!"

Geeken put down the phone and gazed wistfully out into space; he would remember this moment, this delicious moment. He had played his part perfectly; his ass was completely covered. If the thing went as planned, everyone would ask, "was it Geeken?" But no one would have a shred of evidence on him. Of course he would publicly deny it, while going after the various malicious rumor-spreaders in his usual merciless manner. The mere suggestion would serve to enhance his mystique, though; the ambience of his power would be hanging over the entire affair, striking fear into the non-Usher -- "could it have been Geeken?

Of course! Everybody knows by now... you don't fuck with David Geeken!"

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Copyright 2006, 2021 by Charles Adrian Trevino.