What Was Lost

Chapter 1

I SING what was lost and dread what was won,
I walk in a battle fought over again,
My king a lost king, and lost soldiers my men;
Feet to the Rising and Setting may run,
They always beat on the same small stone.

By William Butler Yeats

Most would think my story has a happy ending but it is not this life's story I am trying to tell. Not a great love story, I am afraid, but a tale of sadness and pain, pain that didn't end on that July night in 1984. I have never regretted the decision made all those years ago. To this day I feel to the depths of my soul it was necessary for me to survive. There are, however, people who would have preferred the alternative and for them I do regret what resulted from my decision. I will do my best to describe the events as truthfully as possible. It is not always easy to look back at ones life without embellishment whether for better of worse, but I have been asked many times over the years what compelled me to end the life of Alexander Cambias Jr. So here it is…. from the beginning

On a brisk February morning 1966 in Paris my father stood proud.

"My firstborn son, heir to an empire!"

"My dear, you have done your duty well. He is my son now. Alexander Cambias jr. will continue down the path I've set. He will take after me, the same drive - same ambition. I'll mold him, give him form. Your role is complete; you will have no say in his upbringing."

My father was the head of Cambias industries a huge conglomerate of multi-national companies ranging from high tech missile guiding systems to pharmaceuticals. He had a keen business sense and was not afraid to go for the jugular. He subscribed to the scorched earth methodology of business. There was a thirst within him for money and ascendancy, a thirst that was to have run in my blood as well, his first born son.

My mother, Katherine, was a beautiful woman full of grace and charm. She adorned my father's arm like a fine jewel. He loved showing her off and showered her with gifts from around the world. If anyone was a perfect match for my father it was she. Their talents were ideally suited to the end game, the acquisition of wealth and power. Katherine could ensnare any man and her expertise was not wasted. She excelled at finding a man's weakness and getting him to divulge his secrets. Once revealed Alexander would exploit it and abscond with the spoils.

This was Katherine's second marriage. Her first had been arranged by her parents at the age of 17. Howard Danvers was a brilliant Washington attorney many years her senior, a very prosperous man from a long line of money.

"Good stock" my father would say. "A mind that sharp would be an asset to my staff. I almost envy him. Regrettably he always wants to play by the rules. He has a conscience. What a shame, cannot let an idiotic fixation like that get in the way."

Howard hated my father and spent a great deal of his time looking for a way to bring him down. Unfortunately for Howard it was he who was toppled. A major embezzlement scandal humiliated him and he was found hanging in his study by their ten year old daughter Claire. Within months Katherine had wed my father and brought her millions, a substantial stock portfolio & Claire to the Paris mansion. Most of the stocks were a perfect compliment to father's, giving him majority control in several companies. Howard's misappropriated funds were never located. It was later revealed, after her death, that Katherine had set everything into motion. The funds were waiting for her in several overseas accounts. This was a prime example of how my mother and father were suited to each other. They shared an insatiable appetite for power and money coupled with a complete lack of compassion.

I was delivered to a domineering father and a detached mother. I was never meant to know how it felt to be loved unconditionally. There were always conditions attached to Alexander's & Katherine's love. Bedtime stories, soft kisses and a gentle touch to wipe away tears were meant for other children not the Cambias heir.

"Too much affection breeds weakness. My son will not be weak. He will know how to fend for himself."

Early on it became apparent that my nanny was becoming far too attached to me. Within months we moved to the US and the rapid rotation of staff became the rule. I believe the reasons for this were two-fold. I was not to be spoiled and if staff stayed on too long they would become privy to any number of private conversations. The newly constructed Cambias estate was a grand compound of lush gardens, stables, two pools, and tennis courts. The house was magnificent. The rooms were filled with original artworks by Millet, Cezanne & Ingres just to name a few, Persian rugs, Baccarat crystal. No detail was overlooked. No expense spared. It wasn't the most conducive place to raise a child, but I was no ordinary child. I was the golden boy, born into one of the richest families in the world. A life on the surface most people would envy.

As hard as Alexander tried to keep me away from the "detrimental" effects of love fortunately he did not succeed. Had it not been for Claire he would have. She was an extraordinary sister. I treasure the moments we spent together. My early years were filled with her love and caring. I followed her everywhere. Try as she might to lose me it was impossible. Eventually it became a game and she would jump out at me when I least expected. We would laugh and laugh until tears ran down our cheeks. Such laughter was infrequent though; there was a sadness to Claire. It clung to her like a shadow. She missed her father, Howard, terribly. He was a kind and gentle man who treasured his princess. What a stark contrast to the distant and cold Katherine. But the most remarkable thing about Claire was the fact that even my father seemed to love her. A tender touch to the shoulder or a gentle stroke of her hair was not uncommon. I never saw him act this way with anyone else, not even my mother.

Most of my encouragement came from Claire. She excelled at school and particularly enjoyed art and literature. I missed her during the week when she was away at school but cherished the weekends. With few friends at home I was her constant companion. We loved each other deeply and felt safe together. I especially enjoyed when she would steal into my room at bedtime and sit on the bed.

"How many dragons did my hero slay today? And how many damsels in distress did you rescue, besides me of course?" She would whisper.

"Just one. That's enough isn't it?"

"Ah yes one is just right."
She would spend some time reading our favorite story, King Arthur. Knights made pledges of loyalty and honor, which they defended with their lives. Noble men with a code of ethics like none I had experienced first hand. And the most novel idea was that of working as a team. Teamwork was never part of the Cambias mindset.

I was only 3 or 4 at the time and though conscious of Claire's unhappiness I was unaware of the reasons. The life she was living was full of sorrow and an overwhelming sensation of being stranded like a princess locked in a tower.

"When I am big I pledge to rescue you Claire. I will make it all better." I would say defiantly.

"You make it all better by just by being here my little hero." her words almost inaudible. She would press her hand to my heart and say "You have a heart full of love. Give it freely, never fear it and never regret it. Remember - I will always love." Silent tears would stream down her cheeks and she would offer me a smile tinged with sadness.

To be clear this was not a forbidden love but a love of a sister and a brother trapped together in an intolerable situation. I wish now I had been an older brother instead of 13 years younger, maybe then I could have found a way to get her out from under my fathers thumb.