Sun on the Rocks - The Shabby Sheik

by Somers Isle & Loveshade

  Chapter Twelve

  Clarity tweaked the robo advisor and coaxed it to make recommendations, based on the luxury preferences of the Sheik. The only information that she could feed the system was the list of items carried by Heir Force One, food and drink ordered from the best purveyors. The robo advisor fell for it, and spit out a list of companies potentially available to purchase. She saw the listing of the digital advisor, which included twenty companies, all of them involved in the alcohol segment. Two of them were part of the expensive liquor and sparkling wine segment. One showed up as Veuve Ponsard, a champagne company whose bottles sold for five thousand dollars each, the other was Laurent Varignon, an exclusive maker of champagne fetching ten thousand dollars a bottle. Several cases of both brands were stored in the pantry of Heir Force One, and the companies owning them had unknown market values. None of the companies listed on the stock markets, both of them were held private. The idea of owning a company appealed to Hari. Clarity requested a valuation of the companies to the robo advisor, and the software spit out a joint value of one hundred three million dollars for both companies.

  "We don't have money to buy them, though," said Hari.

  "We've got margin, somewhere out there, there is margin, I'm sure there is a way to buy any of these companies on margin." The office door opened, interrupting their strategy, showing two men dressed in suits.

  "Your Highness?" Hari nodded, sensing more problems that could translate into further losses somehow.

  "There is a problem with one of your accounts." The second man gave his business card to Hari, adding a comment of his own. The title in the card listed his job with the function of Corporate Registries and Systemic Affairs. Hari ignored what all of that meant, anything surrounding money did not matter to him.

  "There is another problem, Mr. Al-Najib, with the financial software you are using." The statement surprised Clarity somewhat, but not Hari so much. The piece of code written for the Sheik had cost him the non trivial sum of five hundred thousand dollars. But Hari thought that computers were less reliable than humans, and so problems were expected, nothing out of the ordinary.

  "A bug?" Asked Clarity.

  "No, the software is connected to odd areas of the financial system, areas we are barely able to understand. It is creating systemic instability and insolvency issues."

  Clarity watched the first man, Dylan Raleigh, deputy director of the legal and enforcement division of the Financial Services Commission, as he pulled a chair on the other side of her desk. His colleague, Jayden Ibsen, began checking the cables coming out of Hari's computer. Hari pulled another chair and sat beside Clarity.

  "The software is standalone," said Clarity. Raleigh shook his head.

  "No. You are?"

  "Clarity Nice, journalist." She showed Raleigh the badge received inside the plane, which all reporters investigating Scrub Leaks carried.

  "Mmh, No Miss Nice, the software is not a simple module, standalone, we are getting calls from various Central Banks, financial institutions, fintechs, loan sharks, pawn shops, a taxi driver refusing Uber, and issuers of obscure financial vehicles belonging to our own shadow banking area in BVI. Their information systems people are saying that an outside source is altering their trades, information, stop-loss signals, and valuable customer lists. Some of them hired hackers and software specialists, and they all trace the alterations to this piece of software, in this office, right here."

  Hari knew he had achieved something, but he didn't know quite what to make of it.

  "Would you like to buy the software? " Asked Hari. He sensed his first potential dollar earned on his own, closer. "I am willing to offer it to you for one or two million dollars."

  "No," said Ibsen.

  Clarity pulled her swivel chair closer to the desk.

  "What exactly is the problem? The software may need information from outside sources to get currencies, market prices, reports on economic indicators. Financial markets are not located in a single computer."

  "This software is acting like systemic software, it attempts to alter the systemic configuration of the financial system."

  Clarity began thinking that she might have been more prudent by staying in the plane of the Sheik, with Plum and her friends. She opted for an assertive line of defense.

  "Let's turn to the other problem, the account. We've detected anomalous activity," said Clarity. Raleigh placed his elbows on the desk, while Ibsen pulled out a Snickers bar, throwing away the wrapper in the garbage can.

  "Is that right? Well, we've also detected anomalous activity in the account."

  "One of you is not saying the truth," said Hari. In times of arguing, Hari had learned to stay neutral or play the role of the umpire. Clarity and Raleigh looked at him, perplexed.

  "The Sheik lost eight million dollars, we think someone hacked the account," said Clarity. Raleigh was not impressed by the statement, remaining unphazed.

  "Two million dollars have been traced to this account and our specialists say they come from illegal alcohol trade in the Caribbean."

  Clarity began playing with the mouse of Hari's computer, thinking that Hakeem had set up Hari as accomplice of the Shawab, and as scapegoat for money transfers used to get the alcohol smuggler's money to a safe haven. She let Hari sit in her chair and sat on the chair Hari was using.

  "Illegal alcohol? We are not involved in anything like that," said Hari. He was not used to being in the driver seat. His smartphone began vibrating, announcing the phone number of Hakeem trying to get an answer from him. He gave the device to Clarity, who was glad to hold on to something familiar.

  "Have you heard of the Shawab?" Asked Raleigh. "His criminal activities are well known in the Caribbean and include money laundering. Authorities like us are trying to get our hands on him."

  "No."

  Clarity took the call and began talking to Hakeem. A group of forty journalists was headed to the offices of Kuwait Capital, to meet the Sheik and ask him a few questions regarding the assets of his company, Sheik Royal Assets-199, and the reason for hiding the assets of Regina Holdings. Clarity stood up and moved to one of the corners of the room for privacy.

  "Hari is unavailable. Where are you?" The assertiveness of Clarity surprised Hakeem, who was visibly annoyed by not being able to talk to the Sheik directly.

  "We're in the plane, on board Heir Force One. We have diplomatic immunity here, the father of the Sheik has told us to stay on board without leaving the plane, until we get authorization to leave BVI. Get back to the plane with Hari." His voice displayed some authority, but also some degree of uneasiness and powerlessness.

  "We're staying here, we've got business to do," said Clarity.

  She ended the call, pretty satisfied to have done so. The teleoperator observed the corridor, noticing Ahmed running back and forth several times. She ventured outside the office of Hari and the bank clerk told her that a group of journalists were coming up the stairs and the elevators to meet the Sheik. There was nothing the clerk could do to stop those who lived off of sniffing scandal or irregularities. Peeking at the hall entrance of the office, she saw five or six journalists rushing into the office, microphone in hand. A man with a camera was walking behind them. Clarity rubbed her hands, noticing they were sweaty. Her confidence was leaving way for a feeling of being cornered and trapped, sort of like the wild boars in Hari's reserve, although obviously they were in it for the food, whereas she was not in this for the Sheik. Not knowing what to do, she took refuge in the office of Hari, sitting in the chair beside him.

  "This account is part of the Shawab money laundering ring," said Raleigh. Ibsen took a call and whispered a few words to Raleigh, which Clarity heard.

  "The Commissioner of the Police Force, Camila Schemben, got the ok from the Premier. The superintendent, Sheridan Guligher is coming this way with several police officers and constables." Bolstered by the support and authority reinforcement he was getting, Raleigh kept on narrowing the distance with the Shei
k, with an argument that left little space for refuting.

  "You knew of this activity, as it took place. The bank clerk here told us the hours you were here in the past few days. They match the time of the laundering activity."

  "The Cubans are involved," said Clarity, "the money went to Banco InterCentral del Caribe y Cuba, BICCC."

  "We don't have jurisdiction over BICCC," said Raleigh, "they are located in Cayos Punta Tabaco, it's part of the Colorados Archipelago, and that is part of Cuba. The account here in Tortola, lists Sheik Al-Najib as beneficiary, he is responsible for the money in it, and for all the activity going through it." Hari got up from his chair.

  "That is the whole point, deputy, I don't have control of this account." Owning a private Boeing 767, and being listed among the top one hundred and fifty billionaires by Argyris magazine, the Sheik could not hold the argument against the two officials. The argument fell on the floor and Hari's confidence also fell with it.

  Six journalists opened the door and rushed into the office of Hari, startling the Sheik and Clarity. The Sheik liked to show off, but not to be on show for others without agreeing to it. He did not really like cameras, unless they focused on his throne. Three journalists began taking photographs of him and Clarity.

  "We are here on behalf of the Global Muckracker, Indian Express newspaper, Sunday Trust, from Nigeria, Gazeta Wyborcza, from Poland, and Folha de Sao Paolo, Brazil's largest newspaper. Mr Al-Najib, any comments regarding your financial structure in the British Virgin Islands, why do you have a company registered here? Is that your future wife seating with you? Do you have any taxes pending?"

  Clarity saw Hari breath out a few times, as calmly as he could, and listened to him swear that the journalists needed to do the firewalk, walking on hot ashes, in order to lower their aggressiveness. She looked out the window hearing the siren of several police cars, as they parked in front of the offices of Kuwait Capital. She counted nine police officers getting out of the cars and walking to the entrance of the Emirates bank.

  Special police constable Sheridan Guligher led the group and opened the door of the office assigned to Hari. The police officer, recently named superintendent, was wearing black trousers with half an inch white stripe, and a short sleeve white shirt embroidered with the Police badge and a vigilate seal on the right sleeve. The seal meant 'Be watchful', in Latin, watchful for instance, of those attempting to disrupt the good quality of life of the islanders living off offshore money, everyone living in BVI basically. Immediately, the superintendent began throwing out all journalists, one by one. A group of eight constables guarded the office door. Guligher shook hands with Raleigh and turned to Hari across the desk.

  "Mr. Al-Najib?"

  "Yes."

  "Mr. Al-Najib, I am Sheridan Guligher, the superintendent of the Police Force in the British Virgin Islands. Our colleagues working at the Financial Commission here in BVI, have detected suspicious activity in your account. Your software is beginning to alter several parts of the financial system in places which are relevant to many people, people who move a lot of money every day. I'm afraid that we are going to have to place you under pre-trial arrest here in Tortola. Your plane will also remain here until the investigation regarding this account, at Kuwait Capital, and the registry of your company Sheik Royal Assets 199, is clarified." He turned to Clarity. One journalist managed to get his head through the office door.

  "That woman is an accomplice of the Sheik, she has accessed our files without any authorization. She is not a journalist." A police constable pulled the head out and closed the door. The superintendent turned to Hari, walking around the desk, pointing to Clarity.

  "Do you know this woman?" Asked Guligher.

  "Yes, I do, she is with me." Hari did not want to go to prison on his own. The Superintendent spoke with Ahmed, who confirmed that Clarity had installed the faulty robo advising software.

  "We are going to arrest you as well Miss Nice, for tampering with the financial system of the British Virgin Islands with illegal software and robo advisor technology. And also for being an accomplice of money laundering activity found in the account of Sheik Al-Najib. Would you like separate quarters or be in the same cell as Mr. Al-Najib?" Hari requested the same cell as Clarity, and shared peeing areas. Clarity shook her head in disbelief.

  "Separate cells, there is a misunderstanding here. I am an American citizen, I have nothing to do with all of this."

  Guligher ignored the plea of Clarity, examining the passport of Singapore that she handed to him.

  "You are not an American citizen, this is a passport issued by the city-state of Singapore. It is not even a regular passport, it is diplomatic. Very strange."

  He kept the passport and waved at the eight police constables who made their way to the office. The teleoperator from Malibu remained speechless a few seconds, realizing she was going to Her Majesty's prison on the East End of Tortola, with a shabby Sheik.