by David Lender
“Come on, Charlie, you know as well as I that we can get more, maybe even a couple dozen.”
Holden continued. “And your star witness, Mr. B, has some great stuff. But even he admits he’s not on the inside, and that Suspect D never confessed to him it’s a Ponzi scheme, just gave him profiles to bring helpless lambs to the slaughter. Incriminating, but not enough to convict.”
“What about all the analysis of bogus deals? Twenty-one of 43 deals they did in the first four funds were companies they acquired that we can’t find any records showing they ever existed. Same with the companies that bought them out to produce those home-run profits. And half the real deals were duds, modest returns at best.”
Holden said, “But that’s not proof, and you know it. The way to get proof is to go in there with investigators and forensic accountants to root it out. But is what you’ve got enough to get the Swiss to send in a team? I don’t think so. We need more.”
Holden watched Katie’s face, her eyes. Not a flinch. She’s good.
After a moment she said, “I worked with you long enough to know where this is going.”
“You got it,” Holden said. “We need to send you in there wearing a wire so we can get Suspect D on tape. He doesn’t have to spill the beans completely—”
“He’ll never do that,” Katie said.
“—but enough to incriminate himself, so when we package it with what we already know we can convince him he’s really fried. Then we get him to plea-bargain, or if necessary we go the full nine yards, extradite him and prosecute him.”
He watched Katie again. She took a moment to think, then she said, “We’re back to where we started. Full immunity, including from the IRS, so that any money we bring back into the U.S. has a free pass from any questions about where it came from.”
Holden said, “Maybe you should let me run this up the flagpole, see what I can actually deliver and then you and me talk again, Katie.”
Katie’s features hardened and she leaned in closer to the screen. She said, “You want to do a deal or not, Charlie? Don’t give me a bunch of crap about having to go back up the flagpole. How far up the flagpole did you have to go to get that black ops team to do a snatch-and-grab of us from Morocco? It had to be at least to the AG, and he had to go higher because the Justice Department doesn’t have those kinds of resources in-house. And I know for a bust this large you can get the AG to give us an immunity letter, including from the IRS.”
“You’re stretching it.”
“Maybe it is a stretch,” Katie said. “But I’m betting that you’ll stretch it as far as you can with the kind of pressure you must be under after letting us slip through your fingers in the UK.”
Holden decided to take it down a peg. He smiled into the screen. “Katie, let’s just examine this practically for a moment. Look at Conklin’s case. We’re talking about a half-billion-dollar meltdown, embezzlement and then flight from U.S. justice. It’s still a case the press refers to when we have a major insider trading, embezzlement or Ponzi scheme investigation. It’s been on the top ten list for over ten years. Do you really think I can get Conklin full immunity after that?”
Katie said, “The trading records all still exist. If you haven’t done the forensic work by now, you can, and it will show that $400 million of that was market losses, and most of it after he left town. Yes, prior to that he covered up the fact that his CFO distorted their results, a felony, but it’s different than running off with $400 million.”
Holden said, “Yeah, right. He didn’t steal any money, he just had the resources to get enough plastic surgery to change him from looking like an NFL defensive tackle into Cary Grant, build a multimillion-dollar house in Antigua, and pay off half the government officials down there for over ten years.”
Katie leaned back from the screen, her face going blank. Holden thought maybe he had her off balance, so he decided to push forward. He said, “And you? I send you to Antigua to bring Rudiger, or Conklin, back, then the two of you collude to orchestrate some hijinks at a JPMorgan Chase branch in southern Manhattan. After that you disappear with enough money to afford zillions of dollars in doctors for your father and a humongous beachfront property in Cape Verde.”
“You can’t prove anything about any money. Let’s just say I had a sugar daddy that bought me a house and helped out my father. You’ve got nothing there.”
Holden was starting to get angry now. He gritted his teeth. “You flew to Cape Verde on a phony Angela Conklin passport. That’s passport fraud, 10 years minimum, 15 maximum.”
“You can’t prove that, either. You can only prove that somebody left the U.S. under that passport.”
Holden said, “When we found you in Morocco, the two of you were flying around on phony U.S. passports as James Scott Rockford and Elizabeth Davenport.”
Katie leaned forward again and smirked at him. “Maybe so. But if you were confident enough that your snatch-and-grab in Morocco would’ve held up in front of a judge, you’d have brought us straight back to the U.S. instead of dumping us in the UK so the Brits could extradite us the regular way. In that case are you so sure a judge won’t throw out those passports as evidence you obtained from us in an illegal seizure?” She paused a moment, then said, “I think you’ve got nothing there, either, Charlie. So am I really stretching it?”
Holden started to tap his foot under his desk. He realized it might show that his body was moving on the screen and forced himself to stop. He said, “Alright, I think we’ve had enough back-and-forth to understand each other’s positions. I say we both sleep on it and talk again tomorrow. But nothing’s going anyplace without you two getting your Suspect D on tape. Agreed?”
“Agreed,” Katie said, “on talking tomorrow. I’ll phone you.”
The screen went dark. Holden looked up at the computer tech. “Did you find out where they are?”
The tech said, “They used some kind of security software. The signal was coming from different Internet locations, switching off every 45 seconds or so. It started out in the UK, then France, then Germany, then the U.S. and so on.”
Holden felt his energy drain off. “How’s that possible?”
The tech shrugged. “Some of that software is even available retail. You can buy one of them for your PC called Identity Cloaker online for 79 euros. I have no idea where they are.”
Holden slouched sideways in his chair. Damn.
Back in their Geneva hotel room, Rudiger shut down the laptop on the coffee table in front of Katie. He’d watched her from out of range of the camera. There were a few times during the call that he wanted to laugh or urge her on, but he made sure not to react so he wouldn’t distract her. “You did great,” he said. “You gave him some things to think about, really spun him a few times. What do you think?”
She let out a long breath, seeming relieved. “I think we may have something, but Holden’s not easy to read.”
“I agree, but you clearly had him back on his heels when you were pushing back on all the charges he thinks he has against us.”
Katie nodded. “Yes, and it was interesting that he didn’t talk about any money other than the $400 million. I don’t think he knows anything about the $40 million that you took from Myron’s estate, and he clearly doesn’t know how much we got from the safe deposit box, or its origin.”
Rudiger said, “Were you bluffing about the illegal seizure making the fake U.S. passports inadmissible as evidence?”
“Posturing. But what I said could be true: if he was worried about the snatch-and-grab not getting past a judge, he has to be worried about a judge throwing out any evidence it turned up.”
“So it looks like from a legal standpoint we’ve got a shot,” Rudiger said.
“We’ll see when I call him tomorrow.”
Rudiger had a good feeling about it, but still decided to start thinking about a backup plan
.
The next afternoon Katie and Rudiger were sitting on the balcony of their suite in the Hotel d’Angleterre having tea. She’d always been a coffee drinker, but she loved the aroma of the Earl Grey tea that Rudiger drank, so now it was a staple at their breakfast and in the early afternoon. She looked over at Lake Geneva, off a half mile in the distance, then at Rudiger. They both took her breath away.
Katie stepped away from the table on the balcony into their suite, turned to him and said, “Time for me to call Holden.”
Once in the living room, she punched the numbers into one of the prepaid cell phones to call Holden’s office. She had to hold for a minute or so, and then Holden picked up.
Katie said, “So where are we?”
Holden said, “Aren’t we gonna do this on Skype?”
“Why bother, you can’t find us anyhow.”
There was a pause. Holden said, “You playing with me?”
“Last call, a little. Just letting you know we’re a step ahead of you. But back to business. Are you in?”
“We have a go, in principle.”
Katie said, “What does ‘in principle’ mean? Subject to running it up your flagpole?”
“It’s a go. Let me worry about the details. I just need to work them out.”
“We still need full immunity,” Katie said, making sure she sounded firm.
“Yeah, on condition you and Conklin agree to cooperate and help us bring in Suspect D.”
“You’re not messing with me are you, Charlie? Because if you are, we’ll figure it out and we’ll disappear.”
“I just need a few days to work it out, get things in place with the Swiss, get your immunity document worked out with the AG. Now it’s time for you to let us know the identities of everyone, your Suspect D and your witnesses Mr. B and Sources Y and Z. But in principle, it’s a go.”
Katie could hardly believe it. She might actually be going home. To what, she wasn’t sure, but she didn’t care; it was home. “What’s the timing and how do we do it?”
Holden said, “Two or three days. All I need is Suspect D’s cell phone number to rig it up so we can listen in and record it when you go in to talk to him.”
Katie listened, waiting.
Holden said, “When I’m set up at our end, you send Suspect D our complaint to soften him up, then you and Conklin, Rudiger, whatever you call him, meet with Suspect D and sweat him. You’ve done this lots of times before. I don’t need to tell you what to say to get him to talk.”
Katie said, “When do I see our immunity?”
“As soon as it’s signed by the AG.”
“Signed? I don’t get to see a draft?”
“Don’t be presumptuous. The Attorney General of the United States of America doesn’t give out drafts of immunities for people to comment on. It’s my job to make sure they say what they need to in order to get the deal done. And trust me, he doesn’t give out very many of them. The AG’s signature is binding. You’ll have it before you go in to see Suspect D. Now tell me everyone’s real names, or this thing stops dead right here.”
Katie filled in the blanks for him. Ducasse and his father, Bemelman, the American Ladies.
Her hands were trembling when she put the phone down.
Holden hung up the phone and looked at Johnston and Shepherds. He felt good about the call. He’d gotten the names, and felt like he’d snuffed out any objections from Katie in his last comments. For once he might’ve shut the little wise-ass up. He saw Johnston scowling.
“You got a problem?” Holden said to Johnston.
Johnston said, “Are you sure you want to do that?”
“Yeah. If that’s what it takes to get this done.”
“Full immunity?”
Holden leaned forward and put his elbows on his desk, stared down Johnston. “It’ll say full immunity if they reciprocate by bringing in the Ducasses.”
Johnston hesitated, then said, his voice strained, “And what does that mean?”
“The full power of the legal authority of the Attorney General of the United States of America will be behind a document that’ll say they receive full immunity from prosecution for the stipulated charges as long as they help us arrest and prosecute the Ducasses. Only we won’t be arresting and prosecuting the Ducasses.”
Johnston froze. After a moment he said, “Why not?”
“Because I’m sending you and Shepherds to Geneva tonight. Tomorrow you’re gonna talk to the attorney general of Geneva, who I had two conversations with today, and then you’re gonna meet with Philippe Ducasse.”
Johnston looked at Shepherds, then Holden, confused.
“Let me explain to you how this stuff works in the real world,” Holden said.
CHAPTER 10
That night Katie and Rudiger figured they had a few days of breathing space to relax and enjoy Geneva, because the next few days after that promised to be both intense and unpredictable. They dispensed with cocktails in their suite that evening, agreeing to get dressed up and go out for cocktails and dinner. Rudiger said, “I have a plan for the evening. I’ll surprise you.”
Katie felt like it was a special evening as she got into the shower. When she finished showering and started putting on her makeup and jewelry, she stood in front of the sink in her bra and panties. She let Rudiger admire her as he walked past her and stepped into the shower, feeling his gaze on her. She remembered their first few wild evenings in New York, the Bergdorf Goodman lingerie he’d bought for her. Give him a little thrill, she thought. Anticipation of what was to come.
Katie was still dressing in the bedroom when Rudiger said, “I’ll wait for you in the living room.” He wore a gray salt-and-pepper suit with a white shirt and one of his Hermès ties, a new design. Simple elegance.
Katie put on a red silk Ralph Lauren Collection dress, an opera-length strand of pearls and carried a matching red Yves Saint Laurent clutch. She stepped into the living room and waited for Rudiger to react. She saw his eyes smile at her.
He said under his breath, “My God.”
Katie felt anticipation dancing in her chest, said, “Did you say something? I couldn’t hear you.” She stood erect, wanting him to continue to admire her, aching for more from him.
“You’re beautiful.” She felt a flush of tears coming to her eyes as he extended his hand to her and she walked over, took his. Then he held out his arm and she hooked hers in his and they walked to the door. “I guess I should say something corny like ‘Your chariot awaits.’ I hope you don’t mind we’re taking a cab to dinner, then the theater.”
Katie didn’t think the chariot comment would have been corny at all.
She pressed herself to him, felt her breast against his arm, looked up at him. “I’m just a simple girl from Brooklyn. Why would I mind a cab?”
After dinner and the show, they returned to their suite at the hotel. Sitting on the sofa with a nightcap, Katie said, “There are all kinds of clichés about the way to a man’s heart. The stomach, other places, you know. But with most women, it’s through their families. Sometimes by befriending the grandmother. In my case, it was through my daddy.”
Rudiger said, “I wasn’t trying to do anything. I loved the guy. Besides, you and I hit it off right away anyhow. When we first got to know each other in New York, I knew you liked me, and I liked you.”
“That came out wrong when I said it. I meant that Daddy helped bring us together, in our hearts. The other night when you talked about keeping house together, I thought about it and I can’t ever remember feeling this way about anybody.”
Rudiger took a moment, then said, “Me, too. Like we always were.”
“So you feel the same way, too?”
“Yeah.”
Katie felt her emotions stir. “You can’t say it?”
“What?”
“That you
love me.” Katie smirked. “You can’t say it, can you? Do you?”
Rudiger didn’t respond.
Katie said, “See, you can’t say it.”
Rudiger said, “Haven’t I shown you? Isn’t that more significant? Why else would I have followed you to Cape Verde in the first place? Stuck with you after you pissed away my 30 million bucks, then escaped with you from the UK instead of running off on my own. I’m here now, aren’t I?”
“Then say it.”
“I’m not some guy who responds when you say ‘Jump, froggy, jump.’ I don’t do anything on command.” He leaned over and kissed her. He put his hands on her, those magical hands. He stroked her face, gave her goose bumps. She gave in to it, feeling like a high school girl with a new boyfriend. He stood, took her hand and walked her into the bedroom. They lay down on the bed.
“Oh, Rudiger,” she whispered to him as he kissed her. Her entire body tingled like it was electrified.
He turned off the light beside the bed.
“Turn it back on, please,” she said. “I like a little light. I want to see you.” He turned the three-way on to the lowest level, then stroked her face, kissed her.
After they made love Rudiger propped himself up on one elbow. He said, “There’s never been anyone like you for me. I don’t see how there ever could be.”
Katie smiled.
Rudiger said, “I love you.”
Katie felt the words like an explosion of joy in her heart. “I love you, too,” she said, believing it had always been so, and always would be.
Katie called Holden each day to see where he stood. Two days later he said he was ready. Holden insisted on doing the next call on Skype, so Katie set it up at their end in Geneva. At 4:00 p.m. Geneva time (10:00 a.m. in NYC), Katie was sitting on the sofa facing the laptop on the coffee table. Rudiger watched her, wondering if she was at all nervous, knowing how excited she was becoming about the prospect of going home. She talked about taking him back to her old Cobble Hill neighborhood in Brooklyn. She’d gone on, smiling and laughing, about some of the local restaurants that had been there since her father was a kid, local shops like Staubitz Market Meats she’d been going to with her mom since she could walk.
