The Oath

By Dan Peled

When a prominent New York businesswoman discovers her husband's dead body, her life is shuddered.
As she awaits the arrival of a homicide detective, the story of Valerie's past unfolds. Her life has been a torrent of success and tribulation.
This extraordinary fiction novel weaves together an unforgettable cast of characters in this fast-moving and gripping story. It grabs the reader from the start and continues to build up steam.
Valerie had turned her talent into the lucrative real estate market of New York's luxury residences, while her ballet career blossoms.
When she decides to withdraw from a real estate venture, her partner convinces her husband, a prominent New York attorney to assume her place in the project, take control of it and seek funds for it's completion.
He introduces him to a former Russian vice- admiral and his shadowy associates, whose funds help turn around the joint venture and the ambitious project then moves forward, as the approval of it's phase one by the city's planning board is at hand.
Christopher, Valerie's husband meets stiff opposition by Sarah Whitmore, a mysterious new planning board member, whose resistance is met with Christopher's wrath.
Here is a stunning tale of intrigue, romance, betrayal and greed, as Sarah Whitmore is entangled in a war of nerves against Christopher Ames and her success is twisted amid powerful forces and events as a masterful finale’ looms ahead, where a woman- pursued by foes and friends alike holds a stunning surprise of her own.

• Language: English
• Publisher: iUniverse
• Release date: Mar 18, 2020
• ISBN: 9781532098093

Dan Peled

Peled served in the Israeli army Special Forces. After completing his military service, he immigrated to the U.S. to complete his studies in structural engineering. He worked in the construction industry as a project manager, later becoming a senior vice president of a construction firm in New York. He moved to Southern California and continued his construction career, forming his own construction company. He has written twelve novels covering Espionage, Thrillers, Mystery and Family saga. Peled has two married children & three grandchildren.

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THE OATH

DAN PELED

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THE OATH

Copyright © 2020 Dan Peled.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or by any information storage retrieval system without the written permission of the author except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, names, incidents, organizations, and dialogue in this novel are either the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

iUniverse

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Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Getty Images are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Getty Images.

ISBN: 978-1-5320-9808-6 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-5320-9809-3 (e)

iUniverse rev. date: 03/18/2020

CONTENTS

Part One Valerie’s Journey

Prologue

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Part Two Betrayal

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Epilogue

For Cathie

PART ONE

VALERIE’S JOURNEY

PROLOGUE

T he sound of a single shot emanating from the dimly lit penthouse was carried toward the open door leading to the balcony overlooking Central Park. It clashed harshly with the sound of Beethoven’s ‘Emperor Concerto’ from the floor below.

The music stopped and a woman’s cry emanated from the open door of the penthouse study.

Oh, my God. What have you done, Chris?

The pianist listened to the woman’s cry. When he looked up toward the penthouse from his balcony, he heard her cry again. After a moment of silence, she ran to the penthouse balcony and yelled:

Help. Please help me. There was a terrible accident. Oh, my God. Please, help me.

The pianist looked up and shouted to the woman:

What happened, Mrs. Ames?

Valerie Ames was sobbing uncontrollably and finally spoke.

Please come and help me. I think Christopher is dead. He must have shot himself accidentally.

You must calm down and call the police. Do you want me to come up now? the pianist asked.

Please. I’m terrified to be alone in the penthouse. My son, Eric left earlier back to school. What will I do? How could this have happened to Chris? She moaned.

I will be up in a few moments. In the meantime, I suggest you call the police, he advised her.

But Valerie Ames was no longer listening, as she walked back sobbing into her husband’s study. She stopped suddenly when she noticed a bloodstained white envelope lying beside her husband’s hand, the one that held his pistol. She moved cautiously toward the desk, trying not to look at her husband’s body, slumped against the leather chair. There was a messy, bloody hole in the upper part of his face, where his right eye had been.

She took a paper towel from the adjoining bathroom and retrieved the bloodstained envelope. Then she opened it and carefully removed the letter before flushing the bloody envelope down the toilet along with the paper towel.

Then she washed her hands thoroughly and examined the letter for any bloodstains. There were none, and she quickly tucked the letter into her pocket before walking into the living room.

Still sobbing, she went to the phone and dialed 911.

When the dispatcher answered, she asked:

Is this the police emergency number?

Yes, the woman replied. How can I help you?

There was an accident, a terrible accident. My husband shot himself accidentally. I think he’s dead, she sobbed into the phone.

Please calm down and stay on the line. I’ll switch you to detective Joe Hanson, the dispatcher said.

Where are you calling from, ma’am? Detective Hanson asked as he came on the line. She gave him the address, to which he responded:

That must be near Central Park, isn’t it?

Yes, she said between sobs. It’s at the corner of Seventy-Ninth and Fifth. The penthouse.

We’ll be there shortly, ma’am. Please don’t touch or remove anything, OK? Hanson advised her.

Yes, Mrs. Ames said, still sobbing. I’ll wait for you here.

Are you alone in the house, ma’am? Hanson continued his questioning.

Yes, she answered. My son left this afternoon to go back to school.

All right, then, the detective said. We’re on our way, Try to be calm, ma’am. What is your name?

My name is Valerie Ames, she replied.

Then, after again pleading with her to be calm, Hanson hung up. She sat on the sofa and sobbed as she peered outside into the Manhattan dusk.

She removed the letter from her pocket, unfolded it and began to read. The tears rolled down her high cheekbones, and she felt their salty taste.

"My dearest Valerie.

I do not know how to begin or where to end this letter. It is so hard for me to write it.

I only hope you will understand what I am about to tell you, and love me no less. It’s been a very difficult time for us lately. The joint venture, my partner Jonathan Brooks and the creditors lurking in the dark, awaiting for us to make a wrong move.

But let the creditors wait. It’s you and me, Valerie, our lives, our past, our happiness.

"Have you been happy with me, I wonder, through these years since Jeffrey died? Did I really fulfill your dreams? Did I give you what you really wanted? Did your free spirit soar, as you had always dreamed it would?

I hope it did, my love. I always loved you, Val.

True, there were times when you probably didn’t know that when I was so busy with my law practice, and then when I got involved with Jonathan Brooks. I totally immersed myself in the joint venture which finally led me to this stage.

Ah, yes. I suddenly remembered Jeffrey and the wonderful friendship that we had. I…"

Her letter reading was interrupted by the frantic sound of the doorbell ringing. She tucked the letter into her pocket and walked slowly to the door.

When she opened the door, Mr. Bernhart, her neighbor was standing there. Behind him was another man, who promptly introduced himself as Detective Joe Hanson.

I am sorry about Mr. Ames, Bernhart said, taking Valerie’s hand and holding it gently.

I got here as quickly as I could, Hanson said. I’m sorry for what happened to your husband, I truly am. May I see the site of the accident? he asked.

Valerie began to sob and the detective put his hand on her shoulder.

You don’t have to go in there with me. Just point me in the right direction.

Valerie nodded and pointed toward the study and Hanson began to climb the wide stairway toward that room.

I will stay here with Mrs. Ames, Bernhart said. Hanson nodded then disappeared into the study. Valerie paced the living room floor and to Bernhart, she seemed totally preoccupied. She would sob occasionally, then pace some more.

I am sorry about your husband, Mrs. Ames, Hanson said as he emerged from the study, bringing Valerie from her daydream. It looks like the shot killed him almost instantly. May I use your phone?

Valerie held her face and sobbed incessantly, and the pianist came closer to her, guiding her to the sofa. She pointed out the phone on a side table to Hanson. The detective quickly dialed a number and waited for an answer.

John? This is Detective Hanson, homicide. I need you to come to an address on Fifth Avenue, facing the park. Yes, it must be done this evening - bring two men with you, and a gurney. Then he gave the man the address of the penthouse, adding,

Yes, John, the man is dead - it looks like an accident. He must have shot himself in the eye while cleaning his gun. The poor guy was fairly young. When can you make it?

On hearing his reply, Hanson nodded.

Fine. Get moving. Don’t forget the gurney, and bring a photographer. See you soon, Hanson said as he put down the phone.

Our people will be here shortly, Mrs. Ames. I am sorry it takes so long, but I’m sure you understand. We must follow our rules and procedures, Hanson explained.

Valerie nodded.

Thank you, Detective Hanson. It was very kind of you to suggest that I not come into the study - the picture of Chris with that hole in his face will haunt me for the rest of my life. He was….

She began to sob again. Hanson turned to Bernhart.

Did you hear anything unusual this evening, Mr. Bernhart?

No, as I told you when we met in the lobby, I was playing the piano. The door leading to the balcony was open. I thought I heard a loud noise coming from the apartment above me - it sounded like a gunshot. I stopped playing and ran out onto the balcony. Then I heard Mrs. Ames cry out for help.

Valerie sat on the sofa watching Hanson and Bernhart talk, but her thoughts were elsewhere. She thought of the letter in her pocket, and suddenly she saw Jeffrey’s face. He was smiling at her. It was that long-ago day on a ski slope in Colorado, when it had all begun.

Then her mind drifted away, to another scene, this one of a girl. Her flowery print dress torn and her face covered with soot as she sat in a dark barn and wept.

CHAPTER 1

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W ith virtually no warning, the cavalry charged down the hills at dawn, then broke down the front door and entered the farmhouse in the valley.

It all was over in a few moments. The occupants had been totally unprepared for the assault. Two of the horsemen pushed Valeriana’s screaming Grandfather out of his bedroom along with her crying mother. Two others burst into her room and grabbed her. She still wore the flowery print dress she had worn the night before, when she had fallen asleep.

The husky man laughed as he dragged the girl downstairs, following on the heels of the two men trying to subdue her kicking, shouting grandfather.

What do you want of me? What do you want of my family? her Grandfather shouted.

Shut up, you dirty Kulak. We have a score to settle with you. Your collaboration with the Nazis during the war was well documented, the Cossack shouted back as he pushed him toward the kitchen. He almost choked Sergei, Valeriana’s Grandfather as he held him in a bear-like grip.

It was a long time ago. I did not help no Germans, Sergei replied, still shouting. They came to our farm and seized it. I had nothing to fight them with. They took everything from us. They killed my older son. How can you accuse me of such a crime?

The Cossack kicked Sergei in the stomach and he grimaced in pain, but he kept shouting. Leave my family out of this. Do you hear me? They are innocent. What do you want of my granddaughter?

His captor laughed harshly, pushing him ahead.

What has she done to you? he screamed, and my daughter, Tatiana? How is she guilty of anything? She is a good mother to my granddaughter.

The Cossack kicked him again, this time in the groin. Sergei collapsed in searing pain holding his groin, exploding in an agonized cry.

Grandpa, Valeriana cried. What have they done to you?

She tried to free herself from the Cossack’s grip. But then she felt his grip around her body tighten, while his other hand groped for her crotch - and she panicked as he held his hand there for some time. Her mother screamed- she too was being molested. The heavy-set Cossack holding her was fondling her breast with his left hand.

Then another Cossack entered the house and walked toward the kitchen where the captives were being held.

There was another man in the barn - he managed to escape on horseback. Our men are searching for him, he addressed the men.

Then he looked at Sergei and cracked a smile.

So, we finally meet again, Sergei Antonov, after all these years. You don’t remember me, do you?

He came closer to Sergei and took the kerosene lamp from the kitchen table, raising it so it lit his face. Sergei raised his head and looked in agony at the man with the bushy mustache. His eyes looked like cold shutters.

Have I changed so much since the war? the Cossack asked as he came still closer to Sergei. Then he stopped as he saw Tatiana and the Cossack holding her tightly to him. She tried to pull away from him, but to no avail as he tightened his grip on her.

Take them out into the barn, the newcomer ordered and the others obeyed. They began to push Sergei and his family toward the open door of the house and on toward the barn, located in the rear.

Please - don’t hurt my family. I will do as you say, Sergei pleaded with the cavalry commander.

I have some money hidden inside, and I will give it to you. But you must promise that you will not hurt them. If you want me, take me with you but please, don’t harm my family, Sergei begged him.

Did you tell your family how you deserted from the Red Army, Sergei? How you left your comrades to die in that battle with the Nazis?

The commander’s voice rose to a shout, scaring Valeriana as he walked over to her mother and took her face in his large hands.

Did he tell you the story, Tatiana Antonova? Did Sergei tell you how he ran away from the battle? Sergei, the brave soldier, the platoon commander, abandoned his dying comrades as the Germans charged toward them. He paused, looking at Sergei with scolding eyes.

Yes, you have a brave father, a great soldier of the Red Army, he shouted.

Suddenly, he let go of Tatiana’s face and cracked a smile at her. Then he followed his men as they pushed the three captives toward the barn. Valeriana again felt the Cossack’s hand probing her body - this time, he touched her young breasts and she screamed.

A fifth Cossack held the kerosene lamp taken from the kitchen as he led the way to the barn. The commander raised his coat collar to protect himself from the cold wind blowing from the direction of the woods behind the barn.

They tied Sergei to a wooden column and two Cossacks held the women against the barn wall.

Then the commander took his pistol from the leather holster in his belt and said:

I guess you want to say good by to your family, Sergei. I will even let you kiss your daughter and your lovely granddaughter.

The Cossacks pushed the women toward Sergei, who wept as they hugged him. They cried incessantly trying to protect him from the Cossacks, to no avail. They were men with a vendetta on their mind.

The commander shouted to his men:

Move them back toward the wall. We don’t have all night to waste here. Let me finish what we came here to do.

No! Valeriana shouted, Please, do not hurt my grandfather, she begged the men.

Then two shots rang out and Sergei slumped to the ground as Tatiana screamed and held her daughter close to her, trying desperately to shield her from seeing her dying grandfather. Valeriana’s body shook uncontrollably and her mother smoothed her curly hair as they both wept.

Tatiana was the first to be raped. A husky Cossack tore her away from Valeriana and pushed her into a dimly lit corner of the barn. He threw her to the straw-covered ground, pinned her arms to the ground and mounted her. He caressed her breast as she tried to resist, crying out Valeriana’s name.

Now it was Valeriana’s turn as well. She could not speak as she screamed and felt her insides being ripped apart. The Cossack held her down and entered her as she screamed again in agony, her cries blending with those of her mother. But then other Cossacks attacked her mother, and after a time she could not scream anymore.

Then suddenly the barn was deserted as the last Cossack ran away. Valeriana was left bewildered and virtually alone. Her grandfather was dead and her mother was emitting fading, agonizing sighs as her life slowly was ebbing.

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After the sun had set behind the hills, Yuri returned. When he entered the barn and saw Sergei’s body slumped against the column, he stopped and put his hand to his mouth. Then he saw Valeriana sitting on the straw covered floor with her head between her knees crying, her dress torn and red marks and scratches on her face and body. He looked quickly around the barn and saw Tatiana’s body lying in the corner.

He ran to Valeriana and knelt beside her, holding her and rocking her gently. When he felt her body tremble, he removed his coat and covered her shoulders as she continued to weep.

My poor Valeriana, Yuri said. What have they done do to you? What have they done to your mother and to your grandfather?

She was unable to answer - she kept sobbing. Her eyes were glazed as she looked at her mother’s body, her nightgown raised above her waist to reveal her long white legs and her pubic hair. In stark contrast to the whiteness of her skin were the streaks of blood from scratches and the purplish bruising covering her body.

Oh, Mama, Valeriana cried out. Can you hear me, Mama?

Yuri walked over and covered Tatiana’s body with a large burlap cloth,