by John Gubert
He next opened the Federal Reserve folder and checked the documents. That contained page thirty-three. He added the Trust agreement behind it and tied it together.
He finally checked his own folder and added the trust agreement. Then with a smile he added the revised sale conditions.
Giovanni looked at Jacqui and then at Charles to whom he said, “This is dangerous. Be careful. He is your enemy. Nothing should happen until this deal is done. After all, at thirty per cent, he’s in for good money. But you just screwed him out of a billion and he won’t forgive you. I’ve seen him react badly for less.”
“I’d worked that out. But we need to teach him a lesson. We’ll have a family dinner once the deal is done. Is it true what he said about Jacqui?”
He looked at her. She seemed to be pleading with him. “Look, your mother screwed around. I know she did later in the marriage. But I think she loved him early on. So I doubt she did then. He had his doubts and there was a blood test. But he lied. It didn’t show that he couldn’t be your father. It didn’t show he was either. The only way you could prove that is through DNA. And those sorts of tests weren’t available at the time. Until today he never mentioned it. He could, though, try DNA if he wanted. You could too if you got a hair off him or something. That is, if it’s important to you.”
Jacqui went over and kissed him. The little man with the scrawny neck protruding bird-like from his over large collar smiled at her. Charles changed tack again, “Let’s get the show on the road. We should call in the lawyers and have lunch. Then we have an appointment at half two with the New York Fed.”
He called in the lawyers. They were the very lawyers who had drawn up page thirty-three for him. They could be trusted. They didn’t know Di Maglio. He never used them. They had come to them from other sources. And they worked for a twenty million covert tax free annual retainer over and above fees. That bought worldwide coverage and a willingness to be flexible.
The twenty million would already reap Charles a huge profit on this deal alone. And there were others where they would prove useful. The firm, reputed as it was in international legal circles, was happy to be involved in organised crime for a fee of that size.
They took the Federal Reserve copy and placed it in a briefcase that one of the lawyers held with him as they all went into the dining room where the Honourable James and McGarth were happily ensconced into their third or fourth dry Martini. That seemed to affect neither of them, they benefited from a lifetime of training into the best way to hold down a large number of lunchtime drinks.
Charles picked up his document case and slid his papers into it. Giovanni did likewise with Di Maglio’s. Charles apologised for the latter’s absence. “He felt quite distraught,” he explained. “I never realised that he had a soft spot for his banks. I thought he saw them just as an investment.”
McGarth waxed lyrically about it being a great day for two great organisations, “The International Bank of Europe and PAF will show that the sum of the parts is worth more than the individual banks. Together, we make profits of just over five hundred million dollars. Tomorrow we will make more.”
They sat down to lunch soon afterwards. The Honourable James and McGarth blabbed on endlessly until Charles stopped them by saying, “Jacqui will run you through some of the plans that we have for the combined banks. She has been working on strategies. These will obviously need board approval. They are just plans for the moment.”
Both the Honourable James and McGarth looked astonished at the thought of being told what to do and especially by a mere woman. And that made it all the more pleasant for the others in the room.
Jacqui lent forward and expanded on some of the plans they had formulated in secret. Giovanni and Charles knew what to expect but the information was new to the others in the room.
“The optimum strategy is multi-faceted. The key on this side of the Atlantic is to maximise our sales to PAF‘s customer base. We are going to focus on investment funds for this purpose. With five million customers and the recent changes in pension arrangements, there is an incredible opportunity here. Especially since PAF has some good performing funds. With help from IBE, they can extend their investments into emerging markets and specialised sectors. We believe we can sell up to five billion dollars of funds this year alone if we market right. That would add around a hundred and fifty million dollars to our profits.”
There were nods of agreement around the room. Jacqui had not mentioned that they planned to skim off a good chunk of that five billion in a classical share ramp and by fabricating phoney investments. Neither did she reveal to them that they suspected this combination would make them between two and three billion dollars if they off loaded the five billion of funds planned this year. That was way beyond the original forecasts but the markets had been kind to them. Everything had gone their way, so far.
She went on, “We have a second plan. PAF has no major stake in the business market. But IBE does. With the combined balance sheet we can increase our lending to some of the major customers of IBE. We have identified those with US interests or ambitions and PAF will lend to them. We believe it could lend another two billion to this sector. That would improve its profits by around another hundred million a year, plus an added hundred this year through front end fees paid from the borrowers.”
She again failed to say that they would cream off the entire two billion less some of the fees. But that was not for their current audience.
Giovanni played interested, “That, and the sale of funds, ups the combined profits this year by three to four hundred million dollars. That’s an excellent result.”
The others all nodded in excitement as they calculated the value of that increase to their end of year bonuses. “Sod the regulators” was the unspoken collective comment. They all knew that they would now be withholding important information from the authorities. But they wanted the reward and not the words of caution their plan would undoubtedly promote.
Jacqui continued, “We are also planning to offer some of IBE‘s sophisticated financial products to the corporate market clients of PAF. We suspect that we could sell quite a lot of those. That’s enough to add a further hundred or so million to our bottom line.”
The Honourable James intervened, “That would mean that we could make over half a billion dollars on the US side and we’ll make over five twenty in the UK. That means this year’s profits could be as high as a billion dollars. That’s incredible.”
And Jacqui added, “And that leads me to the final part of the strategy. We will sell fifty one per cent of our shares to the public. We will do so after we announce this year’s profits and make our forecast for next year. We expect them to be around a billion, perhaps a bit more, if all these initiatives take place. As a result, the market is likely to take a very positive view of us. We suspect we should be valued at around ten billion in total.”
Giovanni noted, “The bank would be worth more than ten billion in total. I suspect that, at such a profit level, you could well raise six to seven billion plus dollars for a fifty percent stake.” He had now realised the profit was more than they had planned earlier. That was true, for they had upped the amount they would lend to the different companies since their first forecast. They had found more targets and had lent more to the ones they had identified in the first place. That accounted for the welcome increase.
As planned, everyone was suitably impressed. They all knew they could expect share options and other benefits as a result of these plans. Greed dispelled any thoughts that they should reveal these details to the regulators. Avarice prevailed and they ignored the possibility that some of the new revenue flows were not sustainable, and thus they should be questioning the treatment of them. Questions of the propriety of the deals were forgotten. Nobody worried that the board hadn’t been party to these plans.
They didn’t care as long as they made money. This was their swan song. They would be richer than they planned. They n
eeded money to spend in retirement. The golden rule was not to be caught. They waved goodbye to the last vestiges of their morality. Money was more pertinent than principles.
Lunch ended on a high note. McGarth downed a last drink and prepared himself for the “tough one” as he called their pending meeting with the authorities. It was far from tough. They presented the documents and advised of board changes, They shared the press release that would be public in a few hours. The regulators were content. Di Maglio had gone from their world. They were as blind to the dangers as McGarth and the Honourable James had been to the illegal basis and risks of the huge plans Jacqui had just explained.
That evening the papers splashed the news. ‘British financial giant makes US acquisition.’ The commentators waxed enthusiastically about the experience of McGarth. They were misled by the spin-doctors stories about the prowess and reputation of IBE. They were nourished with tales of the new management’s expertise in securities. It all helped for their plans for the future.
The depositors would be convinced they were better than the earlier management. The staff would be persuaded they were going to expand their business. Everything was wonderful. They were secure. More jobs and more opportunities would be created for everyone.
But that was a big lie. The truth was their livelihoods were at risk. That wasn’t Charles’ or Jacqui’s concern. All they needed to do was boost revenues and get the maximum from the sale of the bank before it collapsed.
Inevitably, the news was no news a day or so later. They needed to start to get things moving. The next night, after a round of interviews and meetings, they left for London. McGarth and the Honourable James went on a whirlwind tour of the major cities, where PAF was located. They were good at PR and their trip would confuse the picture more. They would stress to all that they really ran the show. They would want to boost their over-inflated sense of importance and power. They would proclaim their part in all decisions, past and present. And they would effectively condemn themselves.
Jacqui and Charles landed in London. Giovanni stayed in New York. Douglas met them at the airport and they headed happily to their house and the start of their multi-billion dollar disappearing act.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
The next day, Charles arrived at the office early with Jacqui. Minutes after he had started to look through the papers in his office, the door burst open. He glanced up into the red and angry features of his fellow directors, Sir Brian Ffinch Farquar and Lord Dunkillin. To say that they looked apoplectic with rage was an understatement.
He smiled at them gently. Every time he saw the overblown features of their tame baronet he recalled his penchant for being whipped in Soho nightclubs by girls in gym slips. And each time he saw the venerable Lord Dunkillin, he thought of his sexual antics with the late Wendy.
“Gentlemen, Gentlemen,” he called. “Please sit down. I have no idea what’s wrong. But we can discuss it calmly.”
“Wrong,” shouted Sir Brian. His face was puce. His eyes were bulging. One could almost hear his heart pounding with fury inside his double breasted pin-striped suit. “Of course, things are wrong. There’s no consultation with the board.”
“True,” Dunkillin added in a whining, complaining tone. “No consultation. We buy the chaps in America and the deal goes through with pretty well no discussion. And there is almost no involvement from many of the board.”
“If you’re unhappy, we should wait till the Honourable James returns. He’s the Chairman. I am just the chief executive. But I had understood that the authorities do not like too many directors overseas at the same time. For that reason you two, who are well known to them, have been holding the fort here in London.”
“Holding the fort,” yelled Dunkillin. “Stephens says he takes no orders from us. Just from you. That woman in your office won’t allow us to see your mail unless she has seen it first. We have no authority. You and James have usurped it all.”
Charles thought of blasting off at them. He had no time for this stupidity. But he kept calm.
“Stephens was wrong. I’ll have a word with him. He should follow your instructions. I don’t instruct him. The man’s an expert in foreign exchange and derivatives and things. I’m no expert there. I brought him in to make us money but to adopt a low risk strategy. What did you need to instruct him about? With all due respect, I thought you knew little more about his area than I did.”
Sir Brian seemed flummoxed, “We felt we should see his deals each day and approve them.”
“Both of you?” queried Charles. He was really perplexed.
“Yes. It’s an important area of our business and we should understand what we do there.”
Charles looked at them closely. Did they suspect the tricks that Stephens was up to? He thought not. They just felt sidelined. They had hurt egos. The cretins were playing into his hand.
“I’ll tell Stephens that he needs to get approval each evening from both of you for all trades he’s done that day. If one of you isn’t there, the other will have to do the approvals alone. I’ll get him to prepare a daily schedule and you should sign it off as approved each night. Is that all right with you?”
“What about you?”
“I have enough on my hands. I’m only too happy to give you that role. It takes a weight off my shoulders.”
“What about that Maria girl?”
“Maria checks my mail to remove any personal correspondence. Then there are always a couple of issues that I want to follow me around the world. She connects to me on the Internet. My portable has a scrambler and so she sends me any papers in encrypted form.”
“What’s encrypted?” queried Dunkillin suspiciously.
“It’s scrambled so nobody can read it unless they break the code. Anyway, she sends me that stuff and then passes out all the rest. I’ll ask her to check who should get the other mail with you. That would make it all the more efficient. After all, some of the things you could just deal with there and then.”
They nodded. They were satisfied. Yet again they’d played into Charles’ hands. He could get their signatures on even more things than he had thought. His noble friends were getting more than they had bargained for. Perhaps they would get even a few more years inside.
Maria came in then. She was pale and her eyes looked a bit red.
“Are you all right?”
She nodded. “I went to Claire’s funeral. I wish you had been there. I know you couldn’t or it would have blown the cover story. I also saw the autopsy report. She was pregnant you know. She told me about the barn. Funny isn’t it, how we both love you in our strange ways. “She smiled at him. “I know I should be staying in your house to give you protection but I can’t. I am too involved. But I’ll do my job. It’s just I want to kill him before he kills me.”
“He won’t kill you if you stay out of America. It was OK for the funeral but do be careful otherwise. And don’t go to Geneva. Let me explain our plans to you.”
When he had finished, she hugged him. “You’re incredible. Both of you are. You two are incredible. I’ll wait. I know you’ll find a way to bring him down. I’ll wait to see him suffer. He will if he becomes poor. At least, relatively poor, then he’ll suffer. Di Maglio without power is a broken man. That will be worse than death for him.”
“But, in the meantime,” interrupted Charles, “We do have a lot of work to do and I need your help.”
“What work?”
“This week I need to work on the bank and help set up as much of the scam as we can. Then next week, I want to go to France. I need to know if Turpin is there and if he is really in command of the Russian Mafia. I also need to know if he is a front for Rastinov, or if Rastinov is dead. I need to make a deal on the Di Maglio Empire with them. But if Rastinov isn’t dead, I need to kill him first.”
Maria frowned. “I’m sure Rastinov is dead. But what deal do you want to make with Turpin?”
“I want to sell him the Di
Maglio Empire.”
“But he’s not selling. And it’s not yours to sell. At least it’s not yet.”
“I’ll try to persuade Di Maglio to sell. At worst, I’d have to wait till we fleece him. That’s plan B. In extremes, when Di Maglio has no money, he’ll have to sell out. I’ll take his Empire on as a commercial deal. That’ll get him out of the way. My precondition will be that he leaves the business to me and Jacqui to run. I’ll then sell it to Turpin for whatever I can get. I want to agree what we’re selling and what I’ll get.”
“How much do you want?”
“I guess a couple of billion up front and then fifty per cent of the first year’s revenues. It’ll be a snip. But I want to get out fast.”
“He’ll rip you off even on that one.”
“Perhaps, but he’ll pay me another billion or so. And he won’t pay that up front.”
“What else do you want from Turpin?”
“Nothing much, other than I want a promise to put down any of the Di Maglio clan who may be a threat to us.”
“He’ll like that.”
“I thought he might. But first we’ll head out and check about Rastinov. We can use the sensor I took to Geneva. We get inside the Uzes compound and then run the sensor. If it identifies an exact fit with Rastinov, then it’ll tell us. The fit will cover a whole combination of things. So it doesn’t matter if he has changed his features.”
“When do we leave?”
“I can’t before the weekend. First, we need to get down to work here. I wanted to wait for this business to be completed before I hit Di Maglio, but we only have protection till we close out the scam. The agreement on the profit split gives us that. But once that’s over, Di Maglio will be lethal if unchecked.”
That week was spent putting down the markers for the big fraud. The loans were pumped out through PAF at a rate of knots. The ideas appeared to come from the Honourable James’ weird son. As he spent the large part of his time in the seediest New York establishments, he hardly paid any attention to the files on his desk. His role as head of risk management in the US meant that all credits had to go through him. He definitely did not read the proposals. The same was the case for McGarth, who had to agree them too. As for the Honourable James, surprisingly, he believed his son’s assurances and accepted that the loans were good.