“It sounds like a lot of work keeping it all straight,” Maggie said softly. She didn’t like his operating so close to the line of the law.
“It is a lot of work, but it’s worth it. I’ve been lucky. I’ve made a lot of money and invested it well. I’m not going to give that up if I don’t have to. What I’ve done is legal, it’s just complicated to put it in place, and I spent a lot of money doing it. I have an Irish passport too, which was useful at one point, but less so now, since they changed the laws on that again.”
He sounded amazingly calm as he explained it to her. It was so typical of him to take an enormous risk, no matter what the consequences later on. He dealt with it when it happened, like his racing suit on fire when he crashed. He put the flames out then, and was willing to total the car to win the race. But who was winning this time? The IRS or Paul? She couldn’t tell.
“Could you go to jail for it?” she asked him.
“I might, but that’s highly unlikely. I’ve been incredibly lucky with my investments abroad. They’ve multiplied exponentially, and if I have to go to jail for a year to save millions, it’s worth it. But I can pretty much promise you, it won’t come to that. It will all happen in negotiation, and if they have to give me the choice of going to prison instead of paying them, they lose. They won’t let that happen, and neither will I. I’ve already shut down Luxembourg and conceded there, and we’ll probably have to shut down some other things, but I’ve got smart lawyers and most of my holdings are well protected, and technically they’re legal, not by a lot, but just this side of the current laws. I’m not dying to go to prison, so we haven’t been stupid, just very smart.” A little too smart, it sounded like, or the IRS wouldn’t be at his throat.
“What about the apartment in London? The article I read said it had been seized.”
“True. They put a lock on it and sealed it two days ago, with everything in it. I’ll probably have to give that up too. It’s just window dressing, and I’d rather give them that than my more serious holdings. I can always buy new clothes. They can’t touch the Lady Luck or the plane, they’re registered offshore and completely protected. If I have to, I can live on the boat. I definitely can’t come back to the States now, until this is resolved. I need to stay in the countries that won’t extradite me. Possibly France, Switzerland, some others. The Italians will probably turn a blind eye. I’ll clear out of London soon, and I can’t come to visit you in the States for now, until we make a deal with the IRS.” To him, it was just business, to Maggie it sounded terrifying. But he insisted that he had been honest, just smart. And there was a staggering amount of money involved. Maggie couldn’t even imagine it. The money she had socked away in conservative investments for Aden’s future was peanuts compared to what Paul had amassed and dealt with on a daily basis, but to earn that kind of fortune from his success and preserve it by legally avoiding taxes in some way required enormous risks, which Paul was willing to take. He walked on the edge of the cliff in every area of his life, fearlessly and even foolishly ignoring the abyss. To Maggie, it was a frightening way to live. To Paul, it was a thrill and seemed worth it. He actually enjoyed it, and was willing to take on the IRS.
She was sad for him, thinking of the beautiful penthouse he had just lost in London, but he didn’t seem to care. He had his eye on the bigger picture, which was much bigger than a fancy apartment. He made it clear that he had carefully sheltered his boat and plane and most of his investments.
“The Lady Luck is under lockdown in Monaco, while they check out the registration and see what they have to do to grab her. But we already know they can’t. She’s not even registered in my name. She should be in the clear within a few weeks. And the plane too, which is grounded at Gatwick for now. The IRS would like to charge me fines for the way they’re registered, but they won’t be able to do that either. I was damn sure of that when I set it up. It’ll all come right in the end, Maggie, I promise. I have great lawyers. We’re already negotiating with the IRS. It’s all a chess game.” It reminded her of the way he gambled, for enormously high stakes. Nothing seemed to frighten him. He thrived on it. “Don’t worry about it.” It was easy for him to say, she was worried for him anyway.
“Could the British arrest you and extradite you?” she asked.
“They might. I’m going to Paris in a few days for a while, or skiing in Switzerland until this gets worked out. The French and the Swiss won’t extradite me. And none of the European countries put you in jail for taxes, or very few and very rarely. In the U.S., they might, to prove a point. It’s really just a dispute about what kind of deductions I have a right to, and what’s taxable in the U.S. We have a disagreement about it. They’ll settle with us in the end. It’ll cost me, but not as much as they want. You have to be smart about taxes, Maggie,” he advised her, but it sounded like he had been too clever and too bold, oblivious to the risks, or maybe even excited by them.
“How long do you think it will take to get worked out?” she asked him. This was all new territory to her.
“A few months,” he said. “Maybe a year. Two or three at most. I’m not worried about it. A friend is going to lend me his villa in Gstaad, if I want it. I have the suite at the Ritz in Paris, and I’ll be on the boat this summer. The only reason for me to come to the States right now is you. And if you’re willing, I’d love to see you here in Europe.”
She hesitated, thinking about it, wondering if she could get in trouble too, for associating with him. “It’s not contagious, I promise.” He laughed, guessing what she was thinking. “Come and meet me in Paris. I promise, everything will be fine.” She wasn’t so sure. This was all so unfamiliar to her, it was overwhelming.
“Where are you staying now?” she asked, shaken by everything she’d heard.
“At my club in London. They’re too polite to drag me out in handcuffs, and they have no reason to. I’ll go to Paris tomorrow or the day after, before they get too nasty here. I think the British consider it vulgar to go to the lengths I do not to get scalped by taxes. The Americans expect it, but feel it’s their job to stop people like me from being smarter than the IRS. It’s just business, Maggie, and every man for himself. It’s going to be okay. I don’t want you to worry about it. Leave it to me, and the lawyers.”
“But what if you go to jail?” The thought of it was unimaginable to her.
“I won’t. I’ve been paying enormous amounts to the IRS for years, I’m not some scumbag who’s been dodging taxes. They’re just pissed that I did such a good job protecting myself, and they want some of what I was able to preserve. We’ve been very aggressive, and it paid off. So they want part of my winnings, so to speak. It’s bad sportsmanship on their part, but it’s the nature of the game. They’re the big thug who grabs you in the alley and tries to steal what you just won fair and square in the casino. So I’ll give them some and they’ll be happy, and it’ll be business as usual after that. It will all die down. You’ll see. It will be a non-event in the end.” She wanted to believe him, but felt a million miles out of her league. It was all a game to him. He loved it, especially if he could beat the IRS. He was a very clever man, who hired the right people to help him do what he wanted. And he clearly had no regrets about the problems it was causing him. It was all worth it to him. In his mind, he was winning the race, again, even if he had lost a fabulous apartment and everything he had in it. To him, that was a detail, compared to the rest. Like damage to a car when he won a race. He expected it.
“I won’t let anything happen to you, Maggie. I swear. If I thought you were in any danger, I wouldn’t let you come here, and I’d stay away from you until I knew it was safe. This is just a business deal between me and the IRS, a lot of posturing and noise, like what they released in the press. They may have to print retractions later, if they’re not careful, but it’ll die down eventually. It will boil down to hand-to-hand combat between their experts and mine. I
have good people on my team. And I don’t intend to lose.” He was a formidable opponent, just as he was a legendary race car driver, fearless and brilliantly capable at everything he did. The risk-takers won all the big prizes in the end, or died trying. She knew that too. His was a tough team to be on, and she wasn’t sure she was ready for it, or wanted to live with the stress that went with it. She hadn’t counted on his playing his life-and-death games with his taxes and the IRS too. There was so much to worry about with him, but he was good to her, she loved him now, and she knew he loved her too. “Will you meet me in Paris?” he asked her gently, and she hesitated.
“Let me think about it.”
“Everything will be calm. We can go to Gstaad if you want to get away. We won’t be able to use the Lady Luck for a few weeks, but she should be released pretty quickly, and everything will be back in order.”
“You’re a force to be reckoned with, Paul Gilmore,” she said with a sigh. “What happened to the boy with the skateboard who raced motorcycles?” He had been scary enough, but the grown-up version was a man of epic proportions, a Mount Everest of men.
“He grew up, got smart, made a lot of money, and learned how to take care of himself.”
“And risk his life in every way he could think of.”
“I’m not risking my life with the IRS. We’re just squabbling over money, like kids playing marbles in the backyard. I told you, this is all a negotiation.” She couldn’t conceive of how much money was involved, but it was a lot more than marbles. Winning was all that mattered to Paul, no matter what it took or what it cost him. And maybe he would win this time too. She hoped so, for his sake. If he was wrong, and he went to prison, she would be devastated for him, and herself.
She wanted to think again about what she was signing on for, and get some advice from her own lawyer. She had Aden to think about, and couldn’t take crazy risks herself. “Take your time,” Paul said calmly. “I’ll be waiting in Paris when you want to come over. I love you, Maggie. I’m sorry if you got scared by all this bullshit. It’s just a lot of noise.” He sounded so convincing and she wanted to believe him, but she was scared anyway. It was a long way from her peaceful life with Brad. “Call me whenever you want,” he told her. “You’ll be able to reach me now.”
She hung up, thinking of everything he had told her, it was a lot to absorb at once, and she wanted to believe him, but she wasn’t sure she did. She left a message for her lawyer, who called her back in the morning. Maggie told her the whole story, as much as she knew of it. There was always the possibility that Paul hadn’t told her everything, or was lying to her. Anything was possible.
Her attorney listened carefully to everything she said, without interrupting, and then said that she didn’t know enough about tax laws at that level and referred her to an expert in the field. One consultation with him was going to be very expensive, but Maggie thought it was worth it to assess how much trouble Paul was in. She called the expert and got an appointment for a phone conference with him that afternoon.
Maggie gave him all the details she knew and Carson McGregor listened attentively. He said that he couldn’t give her an accurate assessment of Paul’s situation without the files, but “rough and dirty,” in his experience highfliers like what Paul had become often overshot their reach, intentionally or not. They overestimated what they could get away with, with offshore corporations, properties, and investments, and sooner or later the IRS caught on to them, and went after them to the degree they could. He said the tax laws changed constantly, hoping to catch guys like him. But often men like Paul and their lawyers stayed a step ahead.
“He probably has some very smart attorneys to protect him. It sounds like there’s a lot of money involved, and the IRS doesn’t give up easily. Is he a gambler?” he asked, curious about him.
“Yes, he is.”
“I’m not surprised. He probably expects to win. And he may. It’s all a game. He’s right about that, and often a negotiation. If the IRS gets riled up enough by his fancy footwork, they may take a big bite out of him, wherever they can get it. But in the end, they’ll probably come to terms with him. He knows what he’s talking about. It’s almost always negotiable, and he and his attorneys are probably good at that.”
“Could he go to prison for it?” she asked, worried. She was in love with him, but wanted to steer clear if he was a flat-out criminal, instead of a guy who was too clever, and trying to avoid U.S. taxes to the degree he could. He had obviously stepped over that line, innocently or not.
“Technically, he could go to prison, but I doubt that they’d do that to him. They’d rather negotiate with him to repatriate some of what he has in shelters in offshore tax havens, which he probably won’t do if they put him in jail anyway. And he can stay out of the country, in other countries that won’t extradite him. There are a number of them. The IRS would probably prefer to play ball with him, if he will, even if they lose some money on it. He’s right about that too. He clearly knows what he’s doing. This is a major-league game. You have to be very smart and have good nerves for it.”
“He doesn’t even sound worried.”
“Guys like him are willing to take the risk. I couldn’t sleep at night if I had the IRS breathing down my neck, but he probably assessed the risk a long time ago, and will push it as far as he can. And they won’t go after you, Mrs. Mackenzie, if you’re concerned about that. This is all about him. I’m sure your tax records are clean. And you’re not married to him. You have no vulnerability.”
“My records are squeaky clean,” she said, somewhat relieved by what the lawyer said.
“Then you have nothing to worry about,” he reassured her. But she was still worried about the mess Paul was in.
She spoke to Aden that night and reassured him. “I’ve spoken to Paul, my own lawyer, and a tax expert. It’s over my head, but apparently this is a battle between Paul and the IRS about how his foreign corporations and investments are set up, and the IRS wanting to discredit some of it to get more taxes from him. Supposedly, it’ll wind up a negotiation and some kind of settlement in the end. No one seems to believe he’ll go to prison. Paul admits that he and his tax lawyers have been very aggressive about protecting him, too much so, so now they have to justify it to the IRS. He’s not upset by it, and said he expected it sooner or later.”
“He must be a very smart guy,” Aden said, full of admiration for him, which Maggie wasn’t thrilled about. Aden hadn’t even met him, but was prepared to forgive anything he’d done, and believed that he was right.
“It sounds like a nightmare to me. The British authorities seized his penthouse and it sounds like he’s going to lose it.”
“Will he lose the boat?” Aden sounded disappointed about that.
“Apparently not. He says it can’t be touched. But still, even if he saved a bunch of money on taxes, this isn’t an ideal way to do it, not to this extreme.” But it was the way he did everything. He was an exciting person, but also a fearless one, which made him dangerous to himself, if nothing else.
“I’m glad he’s going to be okay. The article in the Times made it sound a lot worse,” Aden said, relieved.
“Well, he’s not worried, so I wanted to let you know,” she said.
“When are you going to see him again?” he asked her.
“I don’t know. Maybe soon. In Paris. I’m figuring it out and deciding now.” She didn’t tell him Paul was going to Paris so he couldn’t be extradited to the U.S. and possibly put in jail, even temporarily. She’d never known anyone who had gone to jail for any reason. She knew that as an accountant, and very conservative in his views, Brad would have been horrified by how Paul did business and the risks he took, and would have wanted no part of it. But Brad was part of a different world. Paul lived on top of Mount Everest somewhere, and played life by different rules. Paul was not a criminal, it turned out, if everything
he said was true, but he didn’t live by the book either, and Maggie always had. Everything about Paul’s life was new to her, and so was he. He was no longer the boy she knew at seventeen by any means. She believed him now, but she wasn’t sure if she could live that way too, or if she wanted to.
* * *
—
She left for Paris two days after she spoke to Aden about Paul. In the end, she missed Paul, and everything that was happening to him seemed so traumatic to her that she wanted to be with him, even if he claimed he wasn’t too upset about it. But he looked tired when she got there, and he was grateful she had come. As always, he made everything perfect for her. He spent as much time with her as he could, between serious business and legal calls from around the world. They went for long walks. He took her to romantic restaurants at night, brought her flowers, told her how much he loved her, and made her laugh. He still behaved like a kid at times, despite the vast amounts of money he moved in international financial circles, and the massively successful, world famous career he had. He had another race coming up in France in May, which she dreaded. But other than the races he still contracted for, his life-threatening career, and the drumroll of the IRS in the background, her life with him actually felt normal most of the time. She wondered if he was crazy, or she was, but they were able to detach from the hard things in his life, and spend time together like any ordinary couple.
He bought bicycles for them, and on weekends they pedaled around the Bois de Boulogne and picnicked in the park, before going back to his luxurious suite at the Ritz. There was a disconnect between the joys and the risks in his life, which somehow made it possible to be happy with him. And their nights together were pure bliss. He was as tender and loving with her as he had been at eighteen when they kissed. And now so much had been added to their lives, both good and bad. But whatever happened, they faced it together.
Nine Lives Page 15
