Task Force Identity

by I A Thompson

  Detective Zumbach raised a bushy eyebrow and stroked his mustache for what seemed like an eternity. “Maximian, huh? Interesting… Not the first time we’ve heard that name.” He looked at Martin, Zach and Regina, then turned to Detective Zehnder. “Mark, go get the Herzog file, please.”

  As the younger cop left the room, Zumbach continued, “Zurich’s nightlife may not be quite as extravagant and flashy as London or New York, but it’s got its fair share of vices. Other than excessive amounts of alcohol, drugs of choice are predominantly various flavors of ecstasy as well as cocaine, and one guy could always be found smack in the middle of the biggest parties. Daniel Herzog, head of economic research at, you guessed it, Maximian Private Bank.”

  Mark returned with the file Zumbach had requested and pulled out the picture of a good-looking man in his mid-forties. A handsome, bronzed face with classic proportions and mid-length wavy brown hair with blonde and grey streaks that provided just the right balance between distinguished accomplishment, and carefree youth.

  “Herzog definitely wasn’t the one slinging the drugs,” Gabi said. “He freely shared his seemingly unlimited supply of coke with his friends and acquaintances, but that was the extent of it.”

  “Was he turning people on to his brand and then handing them off to dealers in the periphery?” Zach asked.

  “That’s what we thought as well,” Mark smiled. “Unfortunately, we were never able to connect the dots. We picked up a few dealers over the last few months who sold high-grade coke, but we couldn’t establish a connection to Herzog. No, the distribution appears to be happening independently.”

  “It appears,” Gabi spread out a variety of pictures in different settings. “Herzog used his goods to grow relationships. Every one of these men and women with him eventually ended up as his clients at Maximian. In addition to his daytime job as chief researcher, he also manages one of their largest client portfolios, and that’s most definitely not something you see every day.”

  “During the course of our investigation, we’ve tapped Herzog’s personal and business phone lines. We’ve got transcripts of hundreds of hours of phone conversations. You’re more than welcome to go through them if you think they might be helpful to your own investigation,” Zumbach added.

  Regina perked up. “Yes, that could indeed be very helpful. Is there any way I can connect my laptop to your database?”

  “Sure, follow me.” Gabi got up and led Regina to a small computer lab at the other end of the hallway. “Make yourself comfortable,” She smiled as she sat down and pointed to an empty desk. Opening her drawer, she pulled out a network cable, connected one end to the back of her computer and tossed the other end to Regina. “Here, hook that up to your laptop. I’m creating guest access for you to the folder where the transcripts are located,” she said as she began typing away on her computer.

  Regina grinned and did what she was told. “Looks like you and I are made from the same cloth. You’ll really appreciate my little helper here.” She powered up her laptop and initiated CP, connected to the folder Gabi had opened for her, linked it to her library of case relevant keywords and pressed the start button. A digital timer appeared, counting down from 2 hours and 30 minutes. “Okay, now this is not pinpoint accurate, could be a few minutes up or down, but Centipede anticipates about that much time to run through all the data.”

  Gabi smiled. “I’ll be impressed when we come back and have some actionable intel at our hands. Until then, I’ll withhold my judgement.”

  “Fair enough.” Regina shrugged her shoulders. If she had been in Gabi’s shoes, she would have reacted the same way. “Martin wanted to show us this hill on the other side of the river. Do we have enough time to do that before the program is done?”

  “Sure! And you can grab lunch while you’re at it. It won’t take more than ten or fifteen minutes to get to the top of the hill, depending on how fast you walk.” Gabi led Regina back to the conference room.

  35

  A few minutes later, Martin led Zach and Regina up the narrow Strehl Gasse, a cobblestone alley so narrow that even a small car like a Fiat Uno could barely fit through. Swiss flags were displayed along it’s winding path, and even smaller alleys veered off the one they were on, some so tiny that three adults couldn’t comfortably walk side by side.

  “Look at this!” Regina pointed at a little coffee shop tucked away in the Weggen Gasse. Round tables with pink and red table cloths were set up alongside the buildings flanking the alley, leaving barely room to pass by. “How adorable!” She was now in full tourist mode and took pictures of all the nooks and crannies.

  On their way to the top of the hill, they passed sandstone and stucco houses with projecting wooden alcoves and decorative, yet functional shutters. Suddenly Martin stopped in front of a recess in a retaining wall which contained what looked like a fragment of a seemingly ancient sandstone column.

  “This is the replica of a gravestone from 200 AD. The original is in the Swiss National Museum. It loosely translates to, ‘To the men. Here lies Lucius Aelius Urbicus, who lived one year, five months and five days. Unio, the emperor’s freedman, head of the Zurich toll post of the Gaelic toll, and Aelia Secundina, the parents, to their sweetest little son.’” Martin’s voice trailed off.

  Regina blinked away tears as she thought of the little boy and his grieving parents. “I swear to God, I’m a sentimental fool.”. Here she was, eighteen hundred years later, mourning the loss of a child she had never met.

  Martin just smiled. “No need to apologize; the same happens to me every time I come through here. It’s a good reminder that happiness and sadness, prosperity and poverty, shadow and light are all inevitably tied together. One can’t exist without the other.”

  They continued up the steep hillside until the narrow alley opened to a good size plateau. Linden trees provided a light green, sprawling canopy. “Give it a few more weeks and the lindens will all be in full bloom,” Martin said. “They also line Bahnhofstrasse down there”, he pointed to a sea of roofs to his left. “The entire city smells like linden blossoms. If you’re into this kind of thing, it’s quite a spectacle.”

  He led them to the end of the plateau to their right and they stopped at a stone guard rail, wide enough for people to comfortably sit on. Below them were the emerald green waters of the river Limmat and the Limmat Quai with the Maximian bank building almost directly across from where they were standing.

  Zach whistled. “Nice! If there’s ever been a perfect observation location, this would be it. I bet with a decent directional microphone, you can hear everything that goes on behind those windows, with no one being the wiser that they’re being spied on.”

  Martin shrugged his shoulders. “Yeah, would be nice. But around here, that’s stuff for TV shows, not day to day investigative work.” He smiled as both Regina and Zach snapped picture after picture to capture the atmosphere and architectural particularities of old Zurich. When they were done, he asked, “Do you have any specific hankerings for food, or should I just take you to one of my favorite places?”

  “I saw this Thai place next to the police station,” Regina said. “But as much as I love Thai food, I’d prefer to try something typically Swiss, if it’s alright with you and Zach.” She looked at Zach who nodded in agreement.

  “Well, alright then.” Martin started walking again, with Regina and Zach in tow. “Since we still have ample time, we’ll take the scenic route and I’ll show you a few more tourist favorites along the way.”

  They continued to Paradeplatz, then Muensterplatz walked across one of the Limmat bridges and followed the Limmat Quai to Bellevue Platz. Martin stopped at a glass-clad food stand and savory flavors wafted through the air.

  “Do you trust me with ordering for you?” he asked.

  Regina and Zach both nodded and five minutes later, they were all huddled around a small bar table, a plate with three sausages and three large round hunks of bread in front of them. “These are the best veal b
ratwursts in the entire city, and this bread, called ‘Buerli’, traditionally goes with bratwurst,” Martin explained.

  Regina took a bite of her bread; it had a hard crust and soft center and was slightly salty, but in a pleasant way. Then she tried the white sausage with the brown grill stripes which were heavenly, filled with flavors that blended together in the most amazing way. She looked at Zach, who appeared to be equally smitten with his lunch.

  Martin grinned. “Told you so!” he exclaimed proudly. “It may not be super healthy, but it is most definitely feel-good food.”

  After lunch, they strolled back to the police station where Gabi was waiting for them, clearly eager to see what CP had been able to make of the data they had fed the program.

  Regina printed five copies of the completed report and the team got to work. By mid-afternoon, they had created a rather extensive relationship diagram with Daniel Herzog in the center. In the periphery of the diagram, the names and affiliations read like the who-is-who for a swanky awards ceremony; exactly what one would expect from the clientele of an exclusive private bank. Herzog’s investment recommendations had been funneled to them via their assigned wealth managers.

  Closer to the center, where Herzog’s direct relations were listed, there were a few familiar names like Dominic Amante, Silas Redmond and Jackson Birmingham. Two Trans European Cargo executives were also in the mix. Giorgio Baldini, a Milan based corporate director and Filiberto Bianchi who managed their distribution center in Zurich.

  Herzog had conversations with each of the men about investments in a variety of investment opportunities. To the untrained eyes and ears, it was all above board, but the investigators quickly zeroed in on two companies that Centipede flagged as possible shell corporations; Shanghai-based Tianjin Limited and Riyadh based Salam International Trading Partners.

  “Seems rather suspicious to me,” Detective Zumbach said, stroking his mustache again. “The fact that those two particular companies were mentioned to those specific individuals but not to any of the other company clients.” He got up from his seat. “Time for me to make a call to the district attorney’s office to see if we can get an arrest warrant for Mr. Herzog.”

  “Might as well also ask for a search warrant for his home and office, while you’re at it,” Zach added.

  Zumbach nodded. “Not holding my breath, but given the potential entanglements here, I might be able to convince the DA to pull out the big guns.”

  36

  Zumbach successfully secured both arrest and search warrants, and Daniel Herzog was taken into custody by the Zurich Cantonal Police the following morning at his lakeside home in Kuesnacht, an upscale suburban community nested at the lower eastern shore of Lake Zurich, a region also known as Zurich’s Gold Coast.

  The luxurious two-story house was shielded from the street and neighboring houses by an eight-foot-high ivy-clad concrete wall. The steel gate, normally closed, was open but didn’t reveal much of a view of the house, which was set back behind tall, old trees. It was quiet and discreet, and so was the arrest team as they engaged with the owner.

  Regina, Zach and Martin stood off to the side, watching as Herzog, dressed in an expensive looking jumpsuit, was led out of the house and to a squad car; a picture of righteous indignation.

  “That was odd,” Regina said as she watched the car pull away. “I would have been a hot mess if cops picked me up at the crack of dawn, basically in my jammies.”

  “I bet, he doesn’t think he’s done anything wrong,” Martin replied. “I know his type. The arrogant bastard thinks he’s above the law and that all his high and mighty friends will flock to his aid.”

  Zach nodded. “Yeah, and if we’re wrong, we’ll all have egg on our faces and will never hear the end of it. These white-collar crooks are slippery as eels.” He looked up at the house. “Are you guys ready to turn this place upside down?”

  Accompanied by Zumbach, Gabi and four CSI officers, the team entered the house. Regina’s eyes were immediately drawn to the windows overlooking the lake. She walked over to the windows to get a better look and gasped. “Guys, look at that!” She pointed at a large wooden chalet-style boathouse to her right. “Who has a boathouse like that? Looks like something straight out of ‘Better Living’ magazine.”

  “Welcome to the world of Swiss upper class!” Martin exclaimed. “By the way, Tina Turner lives a few houses further up the road. Just in case you’re interested.”

  “Can you all cut the chatter and get to work, please? I’d prefer to be out of here before morning traffic begins. It’ll be a publicity nightmare if we can’t keep a low profile on this,” Zumbach interrupted.

  Regina watched in awe as the CSIs, Zumbach, Martin and Zach meticulously, and surprisingly fast made their way around the mansion, bagging and tagging items of interest, taking pictures and taking notes on iPads.

  To make sure she didn’t disturb the specialists, she decided to admire her surroundings. She had just finished adoring the high-end kitchen when she heard a whistle and Zach calling Martin. Following his voice upstairs, she found him standing in front of another display case in the master bedroom taking pictures. Martin came out of another room behind her and they made their way over to Zach.

  “Our friend is quite the collector.” Zach pointed at the artifacts lined up neatly eight shelves high. “An eclectic mix of stuff from all corners of the world.”

  Regina was by no means an expert on antiquities, but even to her untrained eyes it was clear that these were well preserved, high quality, and likely very expensive pieces of history spanning centuries and all continents.

  One statuette looked particularly familiar. “Guys, doesn’t this little jade sculpture remind you of some of the Mayan antiquities we saw at Anholts plantation the other day?” she asked.

  Martin nodded. “Good eye, Regina. That’s definitely the same style and age range. The four masks over here also look Mayan.” He shifted his focus to another shelve. “And these four horses here are Chinese. They are from different centuries, but definitely all Chinese.”

  “How much is all of this worth?” Regina inquired.

  Martin shrugged his shoulders. “Hard to tell. The insurance value is probably in excess of a million dollars, but if you wanted to sell this at an auction, it would be luck of the draw if an aficionado showed up or not. Could be next to nothing or a small fortune.”

  Zach shook his head in astonishment. “Aren’t there better ways of investing money?”

  “It’s not about investment,” Martin explained. “It’s about passion and in some cases, almost an addiction. In Herzog’s case, it’s probably a bit of both. Take this ivory fan for example. It’s likely an heirloom. Why else would an unmarried, straight man have a girlie item like this?”

  “Should we pack these things up?” Regina asked.

  “We’ll let Zumbach handle this,” Martin said. “He’ll want an expert to handle these little gems. I certainly wouldn’t feel comfortable with just putting them in an evidence bag.”

  “Good point,” Regina replied while she wandered over to a set of French doors, separating the master bedroom from a study.

  Like the rest of the interior, it was modern, with lots of glass, clean lines and neutral tones; a place where every speck of dirt would immediately stand out like a sore thumb.

  Regina’s attention was immediately drawn to what was undoubtedly the focal point of the room. Securely fastened to the wall and illuminated by recessed lighting, was the stone relief of a clean-shaven man, dressed in a tunic and a headdress adorned with laurel leaves. He held a flask in one hand and a chalice in the other.

  “Guys,” she whispered. “You have to come see this.”

  “What is it?” Zach asked, walking up behind Regina. He stopped dead in his tracks when he saw the relief. He gasped, then slowly walked around Regina and into the study. Martin followed in the same, almost worshipful manner.

  “Unbelievable,” Martin said with a hushed voice. “Zach,
do you think this is what I think it is?”

  “It looks like it could be one of them, but it could also be a replica. We’d have to have it examined first before we know for sure. I do however have no doubt that Herzog thought he had the real deal. It has a separate alarm system.” He pointed at an almost unnoticeable wire.

  “What is it?” Regina asked, slightly irritated that Zach and Martin were having a conversation she was clearly not a part of.

  Zach turned around and looked at her apologetically. “Sorry Gina, I don’t think anyone at Interpol around the world really thought we would ever see this treasure again. Everyone thought it had been destroyed, but here it is, in all its glory.”

  37

  “What is this thing? Why are you guys acting as if you had just uncovered the eighth wonder of the world?” Regina asked again.

  “You’re going to want to sit for this,” Martin said and sat down on an eggshell colored couch. While he waited for Zach and Regina to also sit down, he typed on his phone and then turned the screen over for his audience to see an image of the relief in the study.

  “This is the picture of the funeral bust of a first or second century AD priest that disappeared from the Palmyra National Museum in 2015 when ISIS took control of the city. When Interpol learned about the raid on the museum and the destruction left in its wake, the museum’s entire inventory was red listed, just in case artifacts would show up over time. While the destruction of historic Palmyra made the news all over the world, little was made public about the fact that ISIS also took a good number of smaller, more easily tradeable artifacts to finance their activities.”

  “Who would be stupid enough to buy from these fanatics?” Regina shook her head.

  “Apparently people like Daniel Herzog, if this turns out to be the real deal.” Zach’s voice sounded sarcastic.