The Deadly Dossier

By Lars G. Larsson

When Max Altman receives two boxes of manuscripts from England, it sets a series of murders and a drive-by shootings in motion. Bill Nelson tries to stop the killings by contacting a member of MI.5. He first travels to London, England, and then to Germany to meet with members of Mossad as they try to stop a new terrorist organization calling itself Sons of Baader-Meinhof.
This organization takes Bill prisoner, but he escapes and returns to Canada. Here, another terrorist group calling itself Sons of The Second Sister tries to stop Bill. To get away from these fanatics’, Bill accepts a case that takes him to Hollywood. A movie producer is being blackmailed and tries to get Max to pay some of the ransom money. The producer claims that Sylvia’s ex-husband, Manfred Lederhagen, financed the filming of a porno movie and was thus partly responsible for the disaster.
Thirty years ago, during the filming of a porno movie, called Fucky Arbuckle, there was an accident where an actress died. Rather than report it, the crew buried the unfortunate woman out in the desert. As Bill finds out about this crime, he must meet with everyone involved in this tragedy. While visiting the grave out in the desert, somebody shoots at Bill and his companion. The lady, a former porn star who acted in this movie, is wounded. As the police arrive, they kill the shooter. The dead man's identity leads Bill to believe that the blackmailers are the studio’s owners.
The blackmail was a scam trying to extort money from Max's wife, Sylvia. Confronting the CEO and his assistant, Bill obtains proof of their crime. Calling up Max, Bill tells him he doesn’t have to worry, the blackmailer will not bother Max and Sylvia anymore.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lars G. Larsson
• Release date: Apr 18, 2022
• ISBN: 9781005907709

Lars G. Larsson

About the AuthorLars G. LarssonLars Larsson was born and raised in Sweden. There he obtained his degree in Civil Engineering. He immigrated to Canada in 1967 and worked as a Civil Engineer until he was hired by the British Columbia Institute of Technology to develop and teach a new program in Occupational Health and Safety. He worked there until he retired in 2002. He was recognized by the Board of Canadian Registered Safety Professionals for his significant role in the pioneering of post-secondary OHS programs in CanadaAs a young boy growing up in Sweden, there was no television until 1955 thus he became an avid reader at a very young age. He loved all types of books but mostly mystery thrillers. After retirement, he continued his interest in reading and started to write books. He now lives in Chilliwack, British Columbia with his wife Lynne and Miniature Schnauzer Lily.

Book preview

Prologue

Vancouver, British Columbia.

Sylvia? Hi, it’s Vivian, Vivian Salisbury from London."

Vivian? Great to hear your voice. What are you doing here in Canada?

I am calling from London, England. How are you and Max? I hope that both of you are OK. We were so sorry to hear about Max. Is he getting used to his artificial leg?

We are fine, and Max is adjusting amazingly well. Is everything OK with you and the family?

We are great, but the weather here in England is a little unsettled. Is Max still working on his research? You know, anything to do with the Cold War.

Yes, he is very much into writing this book and researching everything he can get his hands on.

I’m glad to hear that. The reason I’m calling is that we had a lady of Russian ancestry rent one of our houses. She recently moved and left a few boxes of papers in the attic. I can't contact her since she didn’t leave a forwarding address. I believe she went back to the U.S. Anyway, it may be rubbish, but several papers look like Russian writing. First, I was going to throw it all away. There are two medium-sized boxes, but then I thought of Max and how he likes to poke through old stuff like that. So, if you want, I will send them over.

Thanks. I am sure Max will appreciate that. If there is anything of value to the lady, he may track her down and return it to her if she is over here.

The lady’s name is Lana Peters. She rented the place years ago. Another lady was also living there, but both are gone now. One of the neighbors told us they thought Lana Peters had moved back to the U.S. a few years ago and had since passed away. I don’t know what to think about that since she is the one who leased the building and paid the rent. This neighbor also said another woman lived there most of the time. She is gone, too, so I don’t know what to believe. According to the same neighbor, this second lady disappeared without a trace last month, so I can’t send it to her either. I believe she was Russian as well. However, I don’t have her name since the other lady’s name was on the lease and the cheques. The papers may belong to Miss Peters or the other woman. It was strange, though, since we always got checks for a full year. Then the bank called us to say there was no more money in the account. When Richard went to the house to investigate, he found it empty. It appeared as if the lady or ladies had moved out in a hurry. When he checked with the bank, they told him the account was closed a few weeks earlier.

I am sure Max will sort it out. If there is anything of value, we will let you know. And thanks for thinking of us. I will give you a call when the parcels arrive. And Vivian, we need to stay in touch anyway. Sometimes, life seems to get away from us, and we forget to let our friends know how we are doing. So let’s not make it such a long time before we see each other.

You are right. The other day, Richard said we should take a trip to Canada. Maybe this will finally motivate us to do something about it.

Hope you will. We would love to see you again. Bye for now, dear.

Chapter 1 - Svetlana

We were experiencing a slow period, which is not unusual in the P.I. business. Fortunately, the $100,000 we got from Jeanette Langdon would keep the wolves away from our door for a while. I called Marlene, my wife and partner, to ask her what she thought about advertising our services on the Internet when my phone rang. It was my friend Max Altman, and he sounded excited.

Bill, I have something interesting here. Are you and Marlene free to come over to look at this stuff? It is a treasure trove. That is if I don’t take you away from something important.

Sure, old buddy, I will be over in about an hour. And business is slow, so it will be great to see something interesting. Unfortunately, Marlene won’t be able to make it. But you can show me what this is all about. I can update my wife when I am back home. Just listening to you now makes me excited.

Great, but before you come, do you have any information on Svetlana Stalin?

Svetlana Stalin? Why? What does she have to do with this? Besides, didn’t she pass away a few years ago? And remember that I’m only a lowly Private Investigator and do not normally keep up with the major players in this world.

False modesty doesn’t become you, my friend, but to answer your question, she died in 2011. I just got two boxes filled with correspondence from her former residence in England. So far, I have only skimmed a few pages, but it looks like there is a lot of interesting information. Unfortunately, some of it is in Cyrillic writing, so we need to find someone we can trust to translate these if the software has problems. We also need someone who can read Swedish. Do you, by chance, know of any such person?

Not right off hand, but I will check with someone who might know. I laughed at my friend and his quip about Swedish since he knew I spoke the language. Then I became serious and asked. By the way, what did you mean by someone we can trust?

Since I don’t know what’s in these documents, I don’t know if it even applies. But you know me, why take a chance? I have managed to glean so far that the two ladies collected dirt on politicians and other famous people. If there is anything juicy here, it may make someone nervous.

Fair enough. I’ll see what I can come up with for you. Wait a minute, did you say two women?

Oh, I forgot to mention that another Russian woman was living in the house owned by the Salisburys.

And who are the Saliburys?

Friends of ours from England. The ones who sent me this information.

OK, I think I got it. As to the Russian language, I’m thinking of a former client. He is Russian, but I don’t know if he knows the Cyrillic alphabet. As far as I know, he is trustworthy, so I’ll check with him. I’m sure he will be very interested when he finds out that we are talking about Joeseph Stalin’s daughter. He has no love for communists, especially not old Joe. He told me his grandparents perished during one of Stalin’s purges.

Sounds good, but don’t do anything yet. We need to know how explosive this material is before getting outsiders involved. Now, to another point. Svetlana’s youngest daughter lives in Portland, Oregon. I don’t know if anything in these boxes will be of interest to her. If there is, I will try to contact her and see if she wants it.

I was glad to hear that Max was in a good mood. Since he lost his left leg in Arizona, he sometimes feels down. A search like this is good for him as it takes his mind off his missing limb. I didn’t think there would be much substance in these papers, but it would keep him occupied for a while. With that in mind, I drove toward the Altman’s abode.

While I was on my way, Max told his wife what he expected to find.

Sylvia, take a look here. This is a real treasure that your friend in England sent us. Do you know who Lana Peters is? The name rang a bell when you first mentioned it, but I couldn’t place it. Now I know why it sounded familiar. Lana Peters is none other than Svetlana Stalin, also known as Svetlana Alliluyeva.

You mean that these papers are from Josef Stalin’s daughter? Wow, Max, that’s some luck. Is there anything that she would want back? After all, it should be easy to find her.

Unfortunately, she passed away in 2011. But I managed to ascertain that she has children that are still alive. Among them is a daughter in Portland, Oregon. I don’t know yet if there is anything of interest here. I have just started to sort through them. So far, the few I have seen are letters to a lady named Olga. Since some of this material is in Russian, I can’t translate it yet, but I will get a Russian translation into English. I also have correspondence in Swedish, German, French, Spanish, Chinese, and other languages that I haven’t figured out yet. But with the proper software, I can get it translated.

Anything of value for you?

If I am correct, it is a goldmine. It appears as if Lana and her friend were going to write an expose of politicians and other famous people. What little I have seen so far indicates that they solicited dirt on various well-known individuals. I’ll let you know when I have studied it in more detail. I also may need someone who can read Cyrillic writing if the software translation makes a few mistakes. But so far, there is enough to keep me occupied for some time. I called Bill, and he is on his way now. I will need him for the Swedish translations.

I’m glad there is some fascinating stuff, but did you say Lana Peters died in 2011? How come Richard and Vivian didn't know that about their tenant? That’s quite a few years with another person living there.

Yes, it seems strange, but if there were no problems, I guess they just let it slide, and as you said, the tenant always paid the rent on time. Why rock the boat when everything works.

It was great to see Max this animated. He had spread the material on his desk and started to sort the papers into separate piles. Everything in Russian went into one, documents in English in another, and a third stack contained the rest of the articles.

I will start with the ones I can read, but don’t you think this is a fantastic find? Who knows what we will discover here?

Yes, Max, I’m sure there will be a few gems here. When do you need my help with it?

I’ll call you. First of all, I need to get a handle on these documents. For now, I wanted to show you what I had, which reminds me. I need to call Richard and Vivian to thank them. Can you imagine if they had thrown these in the garbage?

Yes, that would have been bad. But now you have this stuff, which should keep you occupied for the next few weeks. And, as you know, I will give you a hand anytime you need it.

I know that my friend, but let’s talk for a while. I don’t see you as often as I would like, so sit down and relax.

After a while, I could see Max getting tired, so I said. It was great seeing all this stuff, but now I will go back home and let you go back to sorting this stuff. But don’t forget to call as soon as you need me.

Chapter 2 - London, England.

The two men in the car watched as the well-dressed woman stepped out of the taxi.

Are you sure this is the one? The driver asked.

Don’t worry. I know what I am doing. His partner answered. Just make sure you can handle the driving and leave the rest to me.

The car eased closer to the lady on the sidewalk. Then, the passenger flung open the door and pulled the woman into the vehicle as it drew parallel with her. People on the sidewalk heard a frightened scream, cut short as the door closed behind her. The black Rover pulled away, wheels spinning on the slick pavement. A few people watched the scene in stunned silence. An older man ran to a telephone booth to call the police while several young people took pictures with their cell phones.

The London New Times newspaper

The body of a woman identified as Vivian Salisbury was found in London’s West End Saturday morning. The police are not saying anything, but Burton Kovalski, the person who discovered the body, told our reporter that it looked like Mrs. Salisbury was tortured before they killed her.

The police indicated that they did not have a motive or any leads in this gruesome killing. A devastated Mr. Salisbury stated that his wife had no enemies and was loved by everyone. He told this reporter that he would post a reward for information leading to the capture of the killers.

Max, that’s terrible news. Why would anyone want to kill Vivian?

I’m afraid it has to do with those boxes she sent. You need to call Richard anyway to convey our condolences. If he is up to it, can you ask if he has more information about the other woman? The one who rented their house? Anything at all would help since this killing worries me. Also, tell him to be careful since this may not be over.

Dear, why are you crying?

Max, this is absolutely the worst. I called Richard’s number, and they forwarded me to Scotland Yard. Richard is also dead. Someone firebombed their home, and Richard died in the fire. What is going on? If it has to do with those cartons, are we in danger as well?

Yes, dear, I am sure those damned boxes are to blame. So, yes, we need to make sure we are safe. Sylvia dear, why don’t you visit your sister for a few days until we get this sorted out?

And leave you here. You will be a sitting duck if they come after you.

Just because I only have one leg doesn’t mean I am helpless.

Sorry, dear, I didn’t mean it like that. But you know I could never go away and leave you here. Why don’t we call the security firm and get some people to guard us and the house?

Will do. I’ll call them right now.

Max called me a couple of hours later and told me of the murders in England. Bill, I’m a hundred percent sure they killed the Salisburys because of those Russian papers. Richard and Vivian were the nicest people you could ever meet. I can’t think of a soul who would want to harm them. The report also said that Mrs. Salisbury was tortured. Why would anyone do that? Unless it was to get information about the stuff someone had left in the old house? By the way, someone also torched that house. So, to recap, Vivian and Richard Salisbury are dead. Their home and the rental house both burnt to the ground. What does that tell you?

I agree with you. Someone wanted to erase all evidence of them being in the rental building. The question is, what are you doing about those boxes?

Could you come over right now? I don’t want to give you this info over the phone.

I will be there in half an hour and bring Marlene along.

Max is doing well with his new prosthesis and met us at the door. Thanks for coming. Did you see the guards? I let them know that I expected the two of you and to let you in.

Yes, no problem. We actually know one of them. He looked after Marlene when you and I were in Africa. Now to your problem. What’s in those papers that’s so important that someone will kill two innocent people?

I have only looked at some of the stuff, but I have concluded that Svetlana Stalin was not involved. It was her friend, Olga Kurianenko. Or I should say supposed friend since there is no evidence at all of Miss Stalin’s involvement. I haven’t seen any proof they even knew each other or that Ms Stalin ever lived in that house. Something might crop up later, but so far, it seems to be the Kurianenko woman who is behind it all. Apparently, she wanted to write a book that exposed many world leaders and other celebrities who had skeletons in the closet. For example, there is information about the Swedish prime minister's assassination. It puts Olof Palme in a less than complimentary light. I need you to translate the rest since it is in Swedish. But what little I could decipher indicates that some important things were not made public when he was murdered. Another pearl is that Mao Tse Tung liked little girls. I mean really young teenagers and pre-teens.

I can see that there might be some juicy stories, but all this is old news. Especially Mao being a pederast. That is a well-known fact. Why would anyone commit murder for something like that? Especially if Svetlana Stalin was not involved. I could see some old-style communist taking offense if they implicated Joseph Stalin’s daughter.

Good question, but those are only some things I could glean while scanning the info. There must be something that is still relevant today. Until we can get it all translated, I scanned every scrap of paper and saved it on several thumb drives. He handed one to me and said. Don’t let anyone know you have this, and place it in a safe location.

I’ll put it in ….

Don’t even tell me. Only you two should know where it is. Remember that someone tortured Vivian. If they get me, I can’t reveal the location if I don’t know it. I also believe they torched the rental house to obliterate any DNA. Why else burn down an empty house? It might mean that they are concerned about this Olga woman. So we need to be extra careful and not discuss this thumb drive with anyone.

Come on, do you really think it will come to that?

No, but rather safe than sorry. And I have these guys outside, so I am not too worried.

Yes, you better take care of yourself. I need you, my friend. So, yes, we will hide this info in a safe place. Before we go, is there anything particular we should look at on this drive?

See what you can translate from Swedish.

Will do buddy. Now, you got me curious. And we will keep it to ourselves, except for reporting to you. And that we will do in person. So I guess you don’t need my Russian acquaintance to do any translation right now.

No, until we know more about the contents, we keep it to ourselves. It also means you two must be careful. Hopefully, nobody knows that I have given you a copy of the material. Still, the two murders in London worry me.

We assured Max that we would be on the lookout for anything unusual and keep all information secret until we reported back to him.

When we got back to the office, I decided to take a peek at the information on the thumb drive. I made a quick scan until I found something in Swedish. The first part is related to the 1986 murder of the Swedish Prime Minister, Olof Palme. On February 28, somebody shot Palme while he was walking home from the theatre with his wife, Lisbeth. In 2020, the police stated they were sure the killer was a graphics designer named Stig Engstrom. The letter also noted that Engstrom committed suicide in 2000. Thus, no arrest or trial was possible. As I continued reading, I noticed that there were serious doubts about this person being the killer. Many people thought the cops were too quick to pin the crime on a dead person. One of the letters on my drive was especially critical of this verdict. It pointed out that Palme, a far-left politician, had many enemies. He was also implicated in a shady deal selling Bofors guns to India. Another letter talked about brothels in Stockholm, where they imported girls from communist countries with the full knowledge of the local politicians.

While all this was bad, it didn’t seem relevant today. Then, I found another note detailing a possible affair between Palme and a member of the Rothchild family. The lady in question lived in England, and I wondered briefly if her relatives wanted to stop this information from being made public. I will look into it in more detail once I read the rest of the transcripts, but for now, I will leave it alone.

Chapter 3 - The Assassination Attempt

My cell phone rang, and for a few seconds, I contemplated letting it go to voicemail. Then I saw that it was my wife and immediately picked up. Anyone else and I was far too busy to talk, but not with her. Marlene always came first in my life. Then, her words chilled me.

Bill, come to the office immediately. Somebody shot Max. Marlene sounded scared, and a chill went through my body as I heard those dreaded words.

What do you mean? Is he dead? Where is he? Who did it? My questions tumbled out before Marlene could continue.

No, he is not dead. He is in a stable but critical condition. Please swing by the office and pick me up, and then we can go to the hospital together. He is at Vancouver General.

I’m on my way, I answered and dashed out to the truck. Right now, other jobs don’t matter. Somebody shot my best buddy, and that took precedence over everything else. Besides, I was sure the clients would understand once I explained the situation.

Marlene waited on the street outside our office. She looked pale and drawn. Max Altman is our best friend, and we were both shaken to the core. I tried to get more information from Marlene as we drove, but she didn’t have anything else. Sylvia, Max’s wife, had called her at the office but only provided the information that there had been an attack on Max’s life and that he was in the hospital.

Rushing up the stairs to the reception desk, I looked around for a nurse. The lady on duty directed us to the intensive care unit. There was a cop outside the room. Fortunately, I knew him, and he let us in without any hassle. I could see that Max was sedated and hooked up to an array of tubes and monitors. Sylvia sat on a chair beside the bed and held his hand. She stood up as we came in and ran into my arms, tears streaking her face.

How is he, Sylvia? I asked.

Unless there are complications, he will live, but he is badly hurt. They operated on him for several hours, but the prognosis is optimistic.

Sylvia, I know this is difficult, but what happened? Even though this was probably not the time or place, I had to ask. But this was more than the P.I. in me. My best friend had been the victim of a drive-by shooting. A shooting I believed was triggered by the information he had received from England.

Sylvia answered me in a worried voice. "We were downtown shopping, and I had gone into a store while Max waited outside in the car. There was no parking, so he sat in the car with the motor running while I did the shopping. I heard some popping sounds, and at the same time several people started screaming. I ran out and saw all the windows in our car broken. Then I noticed him slumped over the steering wheel with blood all over him. My first thought was that another car had run into ours. As I stood there, almost paralyzed, I heard people yelling and pointing down the street.