“I started with the big picture, background on the Dirty War in Argentina, to see if there were websites that directly addressed the disappeared people and kept track of them. You already know that perhaps 30,000 people disappeared during that time. Numbers vary, depending on who is doing the reporting. There are websites giving the names of the disappeared, and also the names of the torturers. For the most part, it seems that the torturers who were convicted of their crimes were pardoned by the next administration.
“I found a CNN audio news clip of a high-ranking Argentine military officer who went public with his story a few years ago,” Afzam continued. “He admitted that they had told many of the people they arrested that they were going to set them free in a remote area of Argentina, and that they needed vaccinations to stave off disease. But they drugged them, stripped them naked, took them up to 30,000 feet in airplanes, then dropped them into the ocean in the dead of night so their bodies would never be found. We can listen to that later if you want.”
Winkler shuddered, picturing floating bodies.
Afzam pulled a short stack of paper from the printer output tray, shuffled through it briefly, and set it aside. “I found general background material, and stories on Mr. Guttmann and his role in the banking world, as he rose to prominence over a fairly short period of time. The last transaction I found was the pending purchase of a New York bank. He had applied to the New York State Banking Department for permission to own the bank. That all ended when the plane crashed and the file was closed.
“Then over here, I have the first article to appear in The Wall Street Journal after the crash, written by Alex Ginsberg,” explained Afzam. “I wondered why he didn’t write any more about it, when the financial press was filled with articles in the aftermath of Guttmann’s supposed death.”
Afzam continued. “Over here, I have something from a blog where a journalist asked about an old friend—Ginsberg. Someone mentioned that he was a pariah after writing that article and had to take on a pseudonym, and since then has been working freelance as Allen Gale. Apparently, he wasn’t supposed to write the story he wrote. Something about offending the Mexican authorities. So, he was fired by UPI and couldn’t get another news reporting job, at least not as Alex Ginsberg. I found some contact information on Allen Gale from articles over the years. He may have something for you.
“I also found something on his friend, the real estate finance attorney, James Ferguson. I think he’s the right one,” Afzam continued, while separating his research into packets for each of them to review. “I first linked him to Ginsberg through an article Ginsberg wrote about real estate financing in Mexico. Later, there was a press release about pending financing of a condo development in Acapulco. But unfortunately, I also found Ferguson’s obituary and an article about his death. He was killed in his hotel room in Acapulco two days after the plane crash. Quite a coincidence. Suspected robbery, but it seems they never found out who did it.”
“What about the official Mexican crash report?” asked Winkler.
“I have that as well, but it’s not very informative,” explained Afzam, locating the report in the stack of papers in front of him. “They determined it was pilot error and that Guttmann was killed in the crash. But you know that. I found no articles changing the official story; just lots of speculation.”
Arms folded arms across his chest, Winkler announced his own conclusion. “I’ll carefully review everything you’ve found, Afzam, but right now there’s one person I’d like to talk to: Alex Ginsberg—or Allen Gale, whatever his name is—the reporter who was there when the Mexicans investigated the crash.
“Emma, see if you can track him down with the contact information Afzam found. A polite phone call from a charming female might set a nicer tone than if either I or Luke called him. He may still be on the run, if he took the trouble to change his name, but hopefully you can convince him to meet me and Luke wherever and whenever he wants. Tell him we’re doing some follow-up work on the Guttmann air crash. Be honest, but vague. He’s probably still scared if he thinks the murder of his friend Ferguson had anything to do with the crash.”
“Sure, David. When would you be available to meet?” Emma asked.
“I guess that depends on where you find him. I’m available any time next week, even over the weekend. Eve’s at a two-week yoga retreat in a remote area of upstate New York with some college girlfriends. If she likes the area, she may even add an extra week hiking. How’s your schedule, Luke?”
“Whatever you say, David. I’ve got no one waiting at home for me,” Rollins said.
“Emma, no need for you to stick around. You can wait until Monday to start working on this. We’ve got a lot of reading ahead of us.”
MONDAY MORNING, Emma arrived at the office early and began her search for Allen Gale, formerly known as Alex Ginsberg. Winkler arrived at the office at nine, relatively early for having spent most of the weekend into the wee hours of Monday morning pouring over Afzam’s research. Emma reported that the phone numbers Afzam had found for Gale were stale, and he wasn’t listed in any online phone directories; however, one of his freelance articles carried an e-mail address, which was still live.
“I sent Gale an e-mail early this morning, asking if he’d be willing to meet a couple of people who are revisiting the Ricardo Guttmann story and want to talk to Alex Ginsberg,” said Emma. “I asked if Mr. Ginsberg would be willing to share his observations for a reasonable charge. I thought that would encourage him.”
“I hope you didn’t commit to our paying a huge fee, Emma. We don’t know if the guy has much to add at this point.” Winkler always had an eye on the budget.
“He replied in a matter of minutes and didn’t even question how we linked him to Ginsberg. He didn’t say how much he would charge, so you’ve committed to nothing,” Emma said. “If you ask me, I think you’ve hooked a live one. For a person who wanted to ‘disappear,’ he was almost too eager to meet. To his credit, he insisted on meeting in a public place and suggested the Iron Horse Bar, on Cliff Street, in Manhattan’s Financial District. But don’t be fooled by the location. From what I’ve found, it’s a dive bar, with a swing and all. He said to ask the bartender for Mr. Allen.
“Oh, on the question of fees, he said, ‘Remind your handlers that I don’t take credit cards.’ Seems like quite a character. I suggest you bring some cash and play it by ear. I set up a meeting for two o’clock tomorrow afternoon. You have a meeting at two today with a Mr. Trevor Banks, from Tricontinental Research. I booked a conference room for you. He said it had to do with
Ricardo Guttmann and asked for you personally. If you want, I can have Luke meet him alone, but since he said it was a legal matter and asked for you, I thought you and Luke should meet him together. He may be trying to sell you something, but I tried to get more information, and he just said he needed to meet. What do you think?”
“Fine. If he wants a lot of money to bring us to Guttmann, like some of the whackos calling the toll-free number, the meeting will be very short. But make sure Luke’s there,” said Winkler.
“Other than that, David, I cleared your schedule for the next two days, and I’ve booked you and Luke on a flight to New York tomorrow for your meeting with Mr. Gale.”
CHAPTER 18
TREVOR BANKS ARRIVED fifteen minutes ahead of schedule, accompanied by two associates, each carrying a briefcase. He picked up one of Winkler’s business cards from the collection at the receptionist’s desk and asked if they could wait for him in the conference room. The receptionist ushered them in and offered coffee, which they politely declined.
Banks was in his sixties, with gray hair along the temples and mostly bald. He was clean-shaven and wore wire-rimmed bifocals. His associates were considerably younger, had close-cropped hair, and wore gray suits and white button-down shirts with nondescript ties.
Once alone in the conference room, they quickly opened their briefcases and swept the room for electronic eavesdropping and recordi
ng devices. Without a word, they gave Banks a “thumbs up,” packed away their equipment, and took their seats at the conference room table, one to each side of Banks.
Winkler and Rollins entered the conference room promptly at two o’clock, and Winkler greeted the visitors.
“Afternoon, Mr. Banks. I’m N. David Winkler—you can call me ‘David.’ I’m very pleased to meet you. This is Luke Rollins, an outside investigator assisting us in the Ricardo Guttmann matter.” Winkler assumed the older of the three was Trevor Banks. “Have you been offered coffee?”
“Yes, thanks, but we don’t care for any,” replied Banks.
Winkler poured ice water for himself and Rollins. “May I pour you gentlemen some?” he asked.
Banks nodded. “We’re delighted you could see us on such short notice. Let me introduce my associates, Eric Fox and Kal Benson.”
“Before we start, I’d like your assurances, and from Mr. Rollins as well, that everything we say here today will be kept strictly confidential. If you don’t take the assignment, then it should be as if we were never here—even my name will be eliminated from your appointment book, and the names of all three of us will be pulled from the visitors’ log at your receptionist’s desk. Do I have your word on that?”
“Certainly,” said Winkler.
He knew they’d come about the Ricardo Guttmann matter and had no idea why secrecy would be so important, but the request itself piqued his interest. Sometimes prospective clients would disclose confidential information to a law firm, then not hire the firm, with the intent to disqualify it from representing an adverse party in the same matter.
“But since it’s my understanding that you’re here about the Ricardo Guttmann matter—and you obviously know we’ve already been engaged to look into his death or disappearance—I don’t want you to tell us anything that could, by any stretch of the imagination, create a conflict of interest with that representation. If we don’t take your case, then you weren’t here and you told us nothing. Is that acceptable to you?”
“Certainly,” said Banks. “But if you do agree to help us, I must have complete confidentiality. Not only can’t you disclose your representation to third parties, we must also have complete confidentiality within your law firm. Absent my specific written approval, the only people to know anything about this will be those who are working on the case and have an actual need to know the information—plus any outside consultants you may decide to bring in—and obviously, you’ll subject them to the same obligation of confidentiality as you will have undertaken.”
“So, if I understand you correctly, you’re asking for a Chinese wall, is that right?” asked Winkler.
“Exactly,” replied Banks, “and all files are to be segregated in a separate, locked file cabinet and any e-mail between us sent via a separate e-mail address through a secure service we’ll provide you. You will not use your regular e-mail for this assignment, nor your fax machines. If we send you a fax, it will be routed to your special e-mail address. No land line phone calls. No standard cell phones. We will give you a secure smart phone.”
“I get the picture, Mr. Banks.” Winkler had rarely had a client so paranoid about confidentiality. Most just assumed everything about their case would be confidential, but he didn’t minimize Banks’ concerns. “‘Loose lips sink ships,’ as they say.” This was one of Winkler’s favorite admonitions, passed down from one of the senior members of the firm. “But I do have to send a conflict sheet to all our attorneys and administrative staff before I can take on a new matter. That could cause you a problem.”
“Look, David, you’re going to have to be creative on that score. If you decide not to take the case, you won’t have to worry about the conflict sheet. And if you decide to take the case, I’m sure a clever lawyer such as yourself will figure out how to honor your confidentiality commitment.”
“You’re absolutely right, Mr. Banks. Please go on.
I’m very interested to hear what this is all about,” said Winkler.
“I’ll try to be brief, but please bear with me, David, as this is a fairly complex situation. Here’s my business card. I’m going to be totally candid with you today because I feel you need to know the importance of what you’re being asked to do, and we have no time to waste.
“Tricontinental Research is a U.S. government entity that engages in special projects from time to time, where no direct government linkage is desired. It was set up by the Department of Homeland Security, under the radar of the FBI and CIA. Too small for them to worry about, or maybe it’s a way of avoiding turf issues on certain projects. Don’t bother to pull a D&B report or search for a company website. You’ll find nothing except Delaware incorporation papers, with a corporate address at a company that serves as resident agent for thousands of other companies. We have no physical presence anywhere; just a virtual office.”
“So, in essence, your company is just a shell?” asked Winkler. “When we have to list owners of Tricontinental in our conflict system, we just leave it blank, right?”
“I’d prefer to say it’s essentially a bank account that allows us to keep a low profile while engaging in very important special projects with government funds,” explained Banks. “Tricontinental Research would be your client, so neither your partners, your associates, nor your bookkeeping staff—not even your outside CPAs—will know the government is involved.”
“So, if I may ask, why did you even bother to tell me you’re a government entity? Why not just have Tricontinental Research hire us and say nothing about who you really are?” asked Winkler.
Banks stood, as if preparing to give a lecture. “That’s how we’d usually proceed, but in this case I feel it’s important you know what’s really at stake. So, here’s our situation: The U.S. government is concerned about the economic situation in Argentina. Based on our intel, there are credible signs of an imminent repeat of what happened in its last major economic crisis.
“You may recall some years ago that country defaulted on its national debt to the tune of over $100 billion, and it was on the verge of collapse. This was their Great Depression of 1998-2002. They got out of it—I won’t bore you with the details of how they did it—but during the crisis, there was tremendous suffering. Bank accounts were frozen, limits on withdrawals of $250 per week were imposed, there was rioting in the streets, and dozens were killed.
“The streets of Buenos Aires looked like a battleground. Clouds of smoke hung over the Plaza de Mayo, outside the pink government palace, where thousands of protesters vented their anger over the economic crisis and called for the President to step down. Police officers in black uniforms, swinging clubs, fired rubber bullets at citizens. They even used water cannons on the raging crowds of demonstrators, who threw brick pavers back at the police line.
“The President of Argentina ultimately resigned and fled the Presidential residence in a helicopter. He was driven out of office after days of rioting that led to twenty-two deaths and homes and supermarkets around the country ransacked. More than 200 people were injured nationwide.”
“I don’t understand, Mr. Banks. What does that have to do with the United States today? How does this relate to Ricardo Guttmann?” Winkler was confused.
“We have information that another crisis is looming. What’s worse is that the rioters back then, and those behind the unrest today, aren’t entirely home-grown. There are indications that Al Qaeda was financing some of them and is continuing to do so. Known Qaeda operatives have been identified as part of a larger plot to destabilize Argentina. Al Qaeda has training camps in a lawless area called ‘The Triple Frontier,’ where the borders of Argentina, Paraguay, and Brazil meet. Ciudad del Este, in Paraguay, is an operational epicenter for terrorist groups.
“The bottom line is, if anarchy comes to Argentina, the rest of Latin America will likely be affected. And there’s no question another economic collapse of Argentina will have a direct effect on many major multinational corporate and banking interests
, just as it did before. The last time, multinationals in France, Italy, Canada, as well as the U.S. were severely affected. In the United States, companies like Metropolitan Life and banking behemoths such as Citigroup and FleetBoston Financial suffered huge losses. We saw a tremendous ripple effect.”
“So, what would you like from us, and how does this relate to Guttmann?” asked Winkler.
“Let me get straight to the point,” said Banks. “The U.S. government would very much like to shore up Argentina’s financial situation for obvious reasons. But frankly, we don’t have the billions it may take. Our people were rummaging through old files, trying to find a way to come up with a significant amount of cash, just as your story about revisiting the Guttmann affair hit the press. We identified you as one of the people who had connections to Guttmann—one of his last known legal advisors. We’ve attempted to locate several others, and you’re the first one on the list who’s still alive.”
“But that was decades ago. What makes you think I would know more than governmental authorities on four continents who’ve been unable to find him despite years of searching?” asked Winkler.
“You’re probably right,” replied Banks. “We don’t expect you’ll be able to find him, though it could happen. But our bean counters are intrigued with the possibility that the missing money may still be out there somewhere, and if it is, maybe it’s grown and could provide a way to prop up Argentina without costing the U.S. government. They’ve done the math. Over forty years, a couple of hundred million at 10% could easily become $10 billion, maybe more.”
“With all due respect, Mr. Banks, I honestly think you’re dreaming. I’d like to believe it could be true, but I would never tell anyone I have any realistic possibility of finding that money. Whatever you pay me would be wasting taxpayer dollars. Why don’t you just wait and see what comes of our investigation for Ms. Romero?” Winkler asked.
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