Status: In Progress

Genre: Other



Status: In Progress

Genre: Other



John van Fliet a Public Servant in Adelaide, picks up a case whilst going home after being in a pub, thinking it belongs to him, it is not, starting a train of events, which include the Mafia, the Police, a couple of trips overseas and a legacy going back to WWII.
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John van Fliet a Public Servant in Adelaide, picks up a case whilst going home after being in a pub, thinking it belongs to him, it is not, starting a train of events, which include the Mafia, the Police, a couple of trips overseas and a legacy going back to WWII.

Chapter1 (v.1) - The Office.

Chapter Content - ver.1

Submitted: January 25, 2017

Reads: 56

A A A | A A A

Chapter Content - ver.1

Submitted: January 25, 2017







This book is fiction:

Character, Names, Events and  Incidents are a product of my


Most Offices, Hotels, Restaurants and  streets are real, but Actions taking place in them are Fictitious.

However, statements with regard to Concentration, Extermination campsand other Evil Organisations such as  the SS, Gestapo etc, of the so-called Third Reich are non-fiction and did happen all to often.



  R E V E N G E




For most people born in Australian, and were used to warm days, Wednesday April 14th 1984 was a beautiful day in Adelaide for them, it was only about 28 degrees, the Sun was shining brightly, the dark winter sky had cleared away , and many birds were chirping happily in the trees, the day was clear, not a cloud or any pollution disrupted the blue sky, but for many people born in Northern Europe, persons normally used to a cooler climate, they however classified the day as:

" A some what hot sort of a day , with the usual “phew”, behind that sort of a statement”.

Vince Melgosie, a well built, wide shouldered 5 feet 10 inches tall man, about 12 stone, with a long lean face, angular nose, brooding eyes and a constantly moving mouth, watched the traffic in the Pulteny street, which he was traversing closely, he didn't want an accident, 'especially nottoday', not with what he was carrying, he had a thin Hitler moustache, and early thinning brown hair, brushed over a high forehead, his Rudolf Valentino looks, appealed to many women, something he was well aware of, and used on many occasions, for his own desires, and gratification.

He turned his car from the Pulteny Street, into the hustle and bustle of the Pirie Street, the aiconditioner on high, he had spent the first 10 years of his life in the cold, bleak mountains, somewhere above Chiavenna and Camodolcino, in poor circumstances and found today's sun, and warmth not at all to his liking.

Vince, like many of his mountain country men, always thought anything over 25 degrees was hot, in his country, as he saying goes, the birds are falling from the roof, due to the heat, he himself was dying for a drink, he quickly looked at his watch and decided:

"I may as well, have at least one ‘icy cold beer’,  in the ”next pub", he knew, that he was far to early to make his delivery, anyhow the earliest time he could normally deliver the case he was carrying, to Gino Ravoli, wasn't until around about 6.30 pm, it was now only 4.25 PM,the delivery would have to be after Gino had had his dinner, and it was now only 4.25pm.

He saw an empty parking meter in front of, " the Office " ,a Pub (hotel), in the Pirie street, which he had frequented on several occasions in the past, he killed the engine of his Valiant pursuit, and took his attaché case, which was on the left hand seat, by the handle, before opening the door, he was making sure, he would not leave the case ,and it's content's in the Valiant, he dived in his right hand pocket, and pulled out some small change from it, before he proceeded to feed 80cents, which he had taken from his pocket, into the meter, checking the time on the parking-meter clock, he noted that he had ample time for a few drinks.


Next he closed and locked the door of his car, and entered the Hotel, he walked to the bar, leaned on it and growled to the bartender, that he wanted a pint before looking down , and placing the attaché case on the ground, next to his feet.

When the beer was placed in front of him, he quickly picked up the glass, and swallowed greedily from his beer, immediately started feeling the cooling effects, of the cold amber liquid, after the first gulp, he slowed down and continued sipping the rest of his beer, in a more leisure fashion, his mind started to wander.

A couple of blokes came, and stood leaning on the bar next to him, on his right, he gave the tall bloke  next to him a curiosity glance thinking, " he's big " before re-emerging into his thoughts.

A smile like a smirk, appeared on his face:

" Would he see Tina Ravoli”, a vision flew through his head, “Gino's hot eighteen year old daughter, today, she was a beauty, she was out of this world, now that girl could really drive a man to drink"!

He mused over that, and waived to the bartender ,ordering his second drink before re-emerging himself in his thoughts again.

She could and would be a real teaser, he reckoned, you only had to look at her, she was real slinky, especially with thetype of clothes she wore, most of the time not much."

"Brrr." he hunched his shoulders, and a shiver went over his spine, in anticipation of seeing her again, even if she was untouchable to him", he softly growled to himself, “the stuck up bitch seemed to dislike him, something he couldn’t understand.

"If Gino wasn't her father", he mused, "he, Vince, would not  be able to keep his hands of her, she really is a beauty, and real sexy, no doubt about that"!

Vince turned towards the barman, who had walked to the other end of the bar, after serving the two blokes next to him, with a second schooner, and beckoned him for a third pint, halfway through the pint, he noted out of the corner of his eye,  the two moving around, and talking to each other, a T.V. on his left was giving out a weather forecast , taking Vinces attention, he moved slightly to the left to have a better look, to intend on the weather, he didn’t take his case with him, It never registered in his brain, that first the smaller, and afterwards the taller bloke left.

At 4.15 PM John van Fliet shrugged his broad shoulders, and looked around the office, he was totally fed up with work today, he pressed the cut-out button on his phone, discon nectting himself from the telephone grid, he checked it and was satisfied, that the next call could not come to his phone, he put the cursor of his Wang Computer on the left hand bar to disconnect Windows, and locked his desk, he decided enough was enough, after all, his core time finished at 4 PM, and the last call he had answered ,he shrugged his well built shoulders, really had been a Nut-case, with a sneer on his face, he repeated it to himself and tried to imitate the whining voice:

"Sir, I bought a doggy, I need him for breeding, but I have just been informed by my veterinarian, ( the stuck up woman, why didn’t she call him, like 99.99% of the population did, her vet ), that he only has one."

"One What, Lady?"

"You know a whats a not!"

"I'm sorry madam, but I do not understand what you mean by, ‘A WHATS A NOT’!"

He was not really listening to her.

"Well, er, er, er, one er, one of them er, er testicles, which the Veterinarian informed me would not be good for breeding."

John had been stunned into silence for a moment, next before controlling a laugh he said:

"Lady, ‘if you told the person’, from whom you purchased the dog, that you needed him for ‘breeding purposes’, you can take him, or it back,-- because under our Act, if the Merchandise is not fit for the purpose, it is required, and if it is true, that he only has 'ONE WHATS A NOT' you can take him back", he stopped for a moment to take a deep breath whilst shaking his head in disbelief:

"As I stated, you can quote to the person that sold you the dog 'The Merchandise is not fit for the purpose it's required’, namely he has only got one", and with satisfaction in his voice making the woman winch over the phone:

"Ball, so he is no good for what you need him for, namely for sex with female dogs for futher offspring", smiling to himself he continued, "and If you have any problems returning that dog, please ring me again, and just ask for John van Fliet." He had rung off quickly.

He stood up and stretched his large frame, all of his 6 foot 3 well built inches, his lean hard body, straining at the seams of his shirt, when he stretched, getting several admiring glances from the girls in the office, which he graciously accepted, with a bow to some of them and turned to Tom Dunn:

"Feel like a drink Tom?"

Tom looked up, and answered with a huge grin on his face, 'almost immediately' to his mate John, who was still stretching, whilst making eye contact with his friend:

"Have you had enough like me of, 'Hotel Psycho', for today my fine feathered friend?"

John laughed at the well used expression saying:

"You're not joking mate, close off, and lets go for a drink, it's in the high twenties outside and I'm thirsty."

Tom a clean shaven 35 year old man, without even a five o'clock shadow at 4.15pm, which always used to make John jalous, before he had grown his van Dyke and moustache, of medium height, slightly overweight, (that's all he admitted too, even if other people informed him he needed to go on a diet,) was thinning on top.

Tom who always appeared to have tired eyes, disconnected his phone and switched off his computer, before locking his desk.

John shoved his attaché case under his desk, something he did on occasions, when he didn't take any work home, or when he didn't have to bring something to work the next day.

John was a good looking young man, of twenty six years of age, but he felt more like 40 years after today, working in the Office of Consumer Affairs, was not the breeze everyone thought it to be.

Today had been especially bad, every second call appeared to have been, made by some lonely, normally older female person,  using the call to the Office of Consumer Affairs, as a Radio talkback program, and to John, there seemed to be many lonely people in Adelaide.







© Copyright 2017 Will Vermeer. All rights reserved.


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