Joachim Von Ribbentrop
Previously in the novel: A mysterious man in black foils novice mercenary Leon from kidnapping the Archbishop of Canterbury. The man in black turns out to be David, better known as Edward the Prince of Wales. Also in the world of espionage is socialite Wallis Spencer. Wallis, in quick succession, dumps first husband Winfield, kills Uncle Sol and marries Ernest.And throws in an affair with German Von Ribbentrop.
The next few days were quite a whirlwind adventure for Wallis. Joachim von Ribbentrop, besides owning an international champagne enterprise, was a member of a highly prestigious military family. And just for fun he was a great tennis player. When he played Wallis on a Paris court, he found her to be an exhilarating opponent.
“My dear, you play tennis like a man,” Von Ribbentrop complimented her after he won a very close match.
“I’ve been told I do many things like a man.”
They immediately adjourned to the club house for a cold drink.
“And you speak English like you were born in London,” she observed, sipping her champagne and reaching for a basket of crackers. Leaning back, she eyed him over the rim of her glass. “You use your tongue and lips very well.”
“When you sell champagne around the world you have to learn many languages.”
“I’ve learned if you flash enough money around people, they learn to speak English pretty fast.”
“Ah, but you see I am trying to get them to flash their money. That requires a certain amount of finesse.”
“That’s fine for you but I’ve never had to sell anything in my life.”
“But that’s not true, my dear Wallis. You are the most expert salesman I have ever met. In fact, you are trying to sell me on doing something for you right now.”
Wallis waved at the waiter for another glass of champagne, crunched on a cracker and then lit a cigarette, blowing the smoke out of the corner of her slim slit of a mouth.
“If truth be told, I am in pique. My uncle changed his will. Originally the five million was going to be mine but now it will establish a home for indigent dowagers, whatever the hell that is.”
Von Ribbentrop leaned forward. “Do you want your uncle forced to change the will back to you and then have him killed? It can be done. I have access to an elite group of assassins.”
“Oh really?” Wallis stopped puffing on her cigarette and raised a brow.
“My family has a long history of flirting with the dark side of humanity. I had an uncle, Heinrich, who married one of the Romanov cousins. He got a tip from the organization that someone was out to assassinate her. So he moved them to the Bahamas, thinking they would never find them there. Well, they did but instead of taking her out they took him out instead. The newspapers said it was a heart attack but the family knew what happened. My aunt disappeared somewhere out in the American West. Even the organization doesn’t try anything among the cactus and rattlesnakes.”
Wallis fluttered her eyes. “Well, now you have my attention. And who might run this organization?”
“If I tell you I’ll have to kill you.” He reclined in his cushioned chair and smiled.
Wallis grunted a laugh. “You’d be surprised how many times I’ve heard that one before.” She shrugged it off. “No, the old bastard’s dead already. What I need is a good lawyer to contest the will.”
“I can help with that too.” He grinned rakishly and reached for the bud vase on the table. Von Ribbentrop lifted a white carnation from the vase and handed it to Wallis. “White carnations are for remembrance. Now what could you do for me that you could remember fondly by looking at a white carnation?”
Taking the flower, she crumpled it in her right fist. “I can do all sorts of things with my hands.”
Von Ribbentrop stood and extended his arm to her. Wallis took it, and he guided her to his hotel suite. The next morning when she left, he handed her a business card for Virginia State Senator Aubrey Weaver.
“He’s the best man I know in the United States for contesting wills and marriages.” He emphasized the word marriages with a wink.
Good luck with that one, Wallis thought. She had no room for a German on her future husband list. At least he was easily satisfied sexually. Back in the states, she deposited Bessie in Baltimore and stopped over in Richmond to confer with Aubrey Weaver. Wallis went through three cigarettes explaining the situation. After listening to her case against Uncle Sol, the senator shook his head.
“I’m sure I could do something to have the will overturned. It seems his health was declining and an argument could be proffered he made the changes in a state of unsound mind. These things can linger in court for years. Most of the money, I assume, was in stocks and my sources on Wall Street tell me the overheated market is going to pop sometime in the next year.” He shrugged. “What’s left of your Uncle Sol’s money after that may not be worth the bother.”
Wallis crushed out her butt in a dirty tray on the lawyer’s desk. “It’s always worth the bother. I don’t care if it’s fifty dollars, I want it.”
Weaver smiled. “Remind me never to be on your bad side.”
“I’m going to need a divorce soon. I’m told you’re good at those things.”
“Yes, little lady, I am.”
The next morning Wallis was on the train to Warrenton in the Blue Ridge Mountains to resume her active social life among the young wealthy elite. Just a few days later she was playing a round of golf with her buddies when she missed an easy putt. One of the women—whose name Wallis had not caught—laughed merrily.
“Well you know what they say. It always isn’t a win-win situation. Sometimes it’s a lose-win situation.”
Wallis was back in Weaver’s office within a week or two and hoped for better news than he had given about Uncle Sol’s will.
“Now, it is absolutely necessary here in Virginia to prove you and your husband have not been in close physical proximity of each other in three years.”
“We met for a few moments a couple of times so he could give me money,” she replied. “Will that be a problem?”
“I don’t think so if your husband won’t mind making a slightly dishonest statement to the court,” Weaver replied. “Do you think he would risk perjuring himself?”
“My dear Sen. Weaver, I thought I had made it perfectly clear both my husband and I have been blessed with a total absence of scruples.”
Submitted to Fauquier County Court in December of 1928 was this letter from Winfield Spencer:
“I have come to the definite conclusion that I can never live with you again. During the past three years, since I have been away from you, I have been happier than ever before.”
The court fell for it, and Wallis was relieved to receive her divorce decree. She said good-bye to her social circle in Warrenton and moved into her mother’s Washington home where she proceeded to make a spectacle of herself by flirting with as many eligible bachelors as possible. This masked her intentions to marry Ernest as soon as his divorce became finalized.
In the spring of 1929 she read in the social column of a New York newspaper that the popular Simpsons had divorced.
“Quelle domage,” the columnist quipped, “but c’est la vie. We hope Ernest will be in high spirits for the summer social season.”
Ernest was not only in high spirits by July but also celebrating his marriage to Wallis. The only let-down for the New York set was that the nuptials occurred in the Chelsea Registry Office in London early one morning. They hosted a champagne brunch for their English friends, then motored to the coast where they sailed for France. Wallis and Ernest had a swell time dining, drinking and shopping in Paris upon their arrival in the late afternoon.
By the end of the long exhausting celebration, actually about four a.m. the next day, Wallis faced a serious decision. Was she going to drug Ernest for her big reveal or take her chances with him not being under the influence nor chained to the bed. She decided her new husband was of a different temperament than Win. Nothing ever seemed to faze him. She had never witnessed him angry, even on the mildest level.
Ernest, already totally nude, brought two glasses of champagne to bed. Wallis took her drink and slammed it back.
“Do you know what I like best about you, Ernest?”
He chuckled as he drank his champagne. “My father’s money.”
“Your devil may care attitude. Nothing ever shocks you.”
“Oh. Yes. That’s true too.”
Without another word, Wallis removed her nightgown. Ernest barely batted an eye and smiled.
“Well, there are many, many ways to have a good time.”