by John Gubert
“When the gang warfare begins, a lot of people will lose. But, for the first time, those people will include the Di Maglio Empire. It is far bigger than all the other gangs. There will be an opportunity to wrest the top dog slot from the Di Maglio Empire. The top dog makes the top profits. They all want to be boss. You need a top dog to stop the gangs fighting each other. It’s not a question of respect. It’s a question of fear. The top dog destroys them if they screw up. Without that, they’ll self destruct till a new top dog appears.”
She seemed to accept the logic of that explanation, “I see why you’d want internal warfare but how do you bring it about?”
“The Empire is a federation. You have four arms. There is the drugs arm. That’s the cash cow. As boss, you’ll run it. Everyone else is a soldier. You’re the only officer.
Then you have prostitution. That’s run by Giorgio Carapli. You have protection, extortion and embezzlement. That’s run by Veranski, who is also in charge of the hotels and casinos. And you have the legitimate businesses, mainly hospitals and pharmaceuticals. That’s run by Charles Renflem.”
Charles had her full attention now. He ran her through the structure of the Empire. He explained to her the names and roles of the key men. Juliet had dozed off. They walked up and down the paths that criss-cross the lawns of the park.
“Renflem is very closely involved with the drugs. He provides the front for much of their activities. He’s a businessman. No scruples but he has no backbone when it comes to violence. He’s also fleeced the Empire over the last years, so he’s rich enough. Di Maglio knows that but tolerates it. He makes enough money from the other activities. And Renflem is believed by all the others to be honest.”
He laughed at her look of astonishment. “I suspect, including your records by the look on your face. I guess you’ve been through the archives since Delaney called you in last Friday night. You can pick up a lot over a week.”
“Touché,” she said with a smile. “But you expect me to be briefed.”
“Of course,” he replied. “But let me continue. Carapli will go for independence. They can disengage. There are links between their activities and the rest of the Empire, but just links. There are no dependencies. They’ll either try to declare their independence and expropriate it all, or they’ll seek to negotiate a buy out. Extortion has no assets.
“The net worth of the hotel and casino business is around one and a half billion. It’s a separate corporation and the property is kept through offshore special purpose companies. So a buy out may not be that difficult.
“What about Petroni? He’s on the board of the IBE Group as well.”
“Petroni is a functionary. He’ll just fade into the background. He’ll go fishing. He’s tired. He’s in his late sixties already, he’s too old for this caper. He’s honourable in a funny sort of way. He’ll want to save his skin. He’s another who wants out.
“It’s the same with Di Maglio really. The man’s nearly sixty and can’t muster up the energy for such an Empire for much longer. You’ll have to work alongside Giovanni. Be careful. He’ll be loyal to Di Maglio till the man’s finished. Even then he’ll bail him out if needed. He can bail him out but he won’t be able to save him. I’ve seen to that.”
She smiled. This time it was a warm smile. “You appear to have worked it out. I get the feeling it’s well planned. How do I get briefed and when do we start?”
“You get briefed by me. I want everything agreed this week. I’m in the South of France on Monday. I have things to do in respect of our business interests. That’s my family business.”
She grinned broadly, “And how is your father?”
“That’s none of your business. That bit is outside your role. I have to be in the US on Tuesday and Wednesday. My diary’s full Friday. I’ll free myself up on Thursday. We need to get away for the briefing. Meet me in Paris. I’ll be in front of the opera house at 8 a.m. Dress in jeans. Be casual.”
She agreed. She didn’t question why she should be in Paris. The reason was simple. Di Maglio could be trailing him. He could follow him to Paris. Then he would slip him. The metro is an ideal place for that. And then they would have a day to get briefed. He could easily get a room at one of the hotels near the airport. They were used to guests who kept strange hours. And by booking on the spur of the moment, he would not be traced. There would be no bugs. And he would have all the documents he needed in his computer notebook.
She waved goodbye. The tall, lithe body, which appeared to move a bit more seductively than those of the other runners, disappeared into the distance. Charles smiled to himself and headed home.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Back at the house, he told Jacqui of his meeting. He told her of the seduction attempt and she smiled contentedly at his reaction. He thought of his relationship with Maria, and the earlier one with Claire, and somehow felt ashamed. But he quickly put that out of his mind. They both ran through the plans again and again.
They did that often as together they carefully perfected the details of their future moves. The next step was to ensure that they could get Maddy Brown on board. Then they needed to persuade Di Maglio to sell out on their terms and accept Maddy in as the boss woman until Charles had tied up the financial deals. That had to be done, they now agreed, before they defrauded him. It was too dangerous for Di Maglio to be fleeced before he had given up control of the Empire, he would still have too much destructive power. And, in reality, he would wield it without a second thought about the consequences for others.
On the money side, they continued down their many dubious tracks. They bought shares through Charles’ father, ramped up their price and then sold them at a profit to the funds, which they sold, in turn, to the public through the bank network in America.
They continued to run out incomprehensible and complex financial products to the different companies they had established. They would close out those deals later and the banks would suddenly realise that their apparent profits were major losses.
They lent money to these and other companies but, in reality, they were just siphoning the cash into their own accounts.
In February they would declare the bank’s alleged super profits and sell at least half of it to the gullible public. They might even be able to sell sixty per cent of it according to the latest indications from their advisors.
Nobody understood the frailty of bank profits. Nobody understood how much was hope over reality. Nobody realised how a small number of mistakes could eradicate years of profitable activity. But, then, nobody had ever dealt with a plan that had been so well concealed and actually created by the owners with the purpose of destroying their own bank.
It was agreed that the sale to the public would take place in April.
Once they had sold out, they would allow a month or so before they started to announce the bank’s problems. The financial deals, those in the so-called derivatives, would be called in first.
It now looked as if they would make at least two and a half billion to three billion dollars from those positions alone. As they had rolled them out, they had realised that they did not need to be as cautious as they had planned. It was just too easy to get others to sign off on the deals. As Sir Brian and Lord Dunkillin were confirming the fake values of the deals each day, with an assurance they understood the structures, they made that an easy exercise.
Then the fund prices would tumble as they stopped buying all their selected shares or allowed some of the phoney investments to collapse. They would even sell some shares to help them on their way down. And, as they fell, they would buy them back at a lower price to make a profit. They were used to such dealings.
Markets rise because of perception, hope, greed and ignorance. And they fall because of different perceptions, despair, fear and stupidity. They knew how to fuel all these feelings and nothing does it better than ramping up or pushing down the price of an investment.
The rising price of t
heir shares and the strong performance of their funds made them saleable. The reverse would happen soon. The shares would fall like stones as their props were removed and bad news eked out. The funds would fall as the shares they owned fell and their losses materialised on their fake investments; then investors in the funds would try to bail out, the funds would need cash, they would need to sell investments and they would further fuel the panic. It was a dream world for the insiders, disaster for others.
Again, they now estimated they would make much more money from these deals than expected. The US clients’ appetite for high performing funds had been much greater than hoped. Their sales force had been far more effective than they had ever planned. Their target profit was now five billion from these activities alone.
And as Charles and his father were creaming off some of the profits in any case, not all would accrue to the others. There was no reason to be too generous.
As for the loans, Charles had overlooked one possibility at the original meeting. That was to push out a mass of loans just before the banks went under. It now looked as if they could embezzle around a further five billion from this activity.
And they still had the precious bank to sell. It was valued, on their most recent assessment, at twelve billion. And they could count on that final billion or so from Sir Piers. Charles was sure he would take over IBE, once it was in serious trouble, if only to save his City pals.
Charles and Jacqui thought through the split of the profits. The profit from the sale of the bank to the public went to them and the trust Di Maglio had set up for their children; something he, no doubt, now really regretted.
They agreed they should skim two or three billion from the money they made on the rest of the fraud for themselves. After all, nobody knew the true figures as they alone knew how the money moved around.
The other ten billion or so would be split fifty per cent to Charles’ parents and them, ten per cent to their children and thirty per cent to Di Maglio with the last ten percent being split equally between them, Di Maglio, Maria and Giovanni, now that the unfortunate Stephens was languishing somewhere at the bottom of the sea.
They added up new figures. Their family funds would get over fifteen billion from the fraud against an outlay of a billion for the original purchase of the bank. Not a bad return they agreed.
Di Maglio would make around three billion or so. But clients of the bank would lose more than that and the money Di Maglio received would be moved in a way to ensure it did not remain secret, even if its origins were impossible to trace.
Maria and Giovanni left with a quarter of a billion each. That would at least guarantee some loyalty. Perhaps even hope of a stake in something in the future.
Charles had already run expert and insider checks on the Di Maglio private fortune. They estimated it at three or four billion, excluding the billion they expected to pay him for the Empire. That was a bit more than the failure of the bank would take but there would be other claims. They could, if Maddy Brown were put in place, pass on quite a bit of information on Di Maglio’s affairs to the authorities.
Charles and Jacqui knew the main banks Di Maglio used and the names on his accounts. During the PAF take-over, they had put experts into the banks with the sole task of tracing flows of cash to Di Maglio. The patterns had been simple to identify. They understood all the tricks and Di Maglio wasn’t as good as them. With that information, the authorities could freeze his cash while they prepared their case or even confiscate it if the courts agreed.
Di Maglio would be wiped out; or at least almost wiped out. Giovanni and some associates could give him money but not enough to fund his current lifestyle, or to succeed in any vendetta against them. If he tried, there would be one last job for Maria; namely the elimination of the wounded Mafia overlord.
They put their workings through the shredder. Neither Jacqui nor Charles saw any point in allowing the evidence to be kept. The figures looked good. They were far in excess of their earlier plans. But then they had underestimated the greed and stupidity of their carefully selected employees and colleagues. Human weakness would allow them to grow their wealth far more than they had expected.
“Your main task is to find a bolt hole. We need it from September. So I guess the West Indies or Asia is the best option.”
“I’ll find it,” she said. “Don’t worry.”
The next week went quickly. France, New York, then back to London and out to Paris. Charles stayed the night in the Crillon, and, with fifteen minutes to spare, walked up to the Opera. He stood in front of the steps, his briefcase holding the computer and all the data he needed. He waited patiently for the clock to strike eight and Maddy Brown to appear.
He saw her approaching before she saw him. She was not quite dressed as instructed. She wore a pair of Armani jeans and matching T-shirt. That was hardly what he would call casual. He told to her to follow him and headed down the subway. They both got into the same carriage and headed through the maze of tunnels.
The Paris metro is a strange system. The lines criss-cross Paris. The journeys between stations are shorter than in London. Charles eased over to the door. So did Maddy in front of him. They were facing each other. He stayed on the train at the first station. He did the same on the second.
Then, at the third, he jumped out at the last minute. Maddy did, too. They ran down the station platform and then she followed him onto a train that was just about to leave the station heading back the way they came.
The next interchange was the Roissy one and they waited a couple of minutes for the train to the airport. They got to the subway station and then caught a bus to the airport itself.
They met at the airport and went to the hotel courtesy desk. Charles had booked a day room at the closest hotel in the name of Brown. It was useful to have someone actually with a common name like that with him.
He guessed that Di Maglio would have got a photo of Maddy at the park and perhaps again at the opera. Charles was pretty sure that he was being watched. The delectable Ms Brown was getting unusual visibility for a backroom girl.
They hurried through the airport and checked into the room. She used her credit card without comment. It was his first experience of being in a hotel room with a girl on the government’s account. He mentioned that it made taxation worth paying for.
They set up the computer and the whole day was taken up in a painstaking briefing session. She was good and had only to be told once. She gasped at the complex money laundering techniques of Di Maglio himself.
“No wonder we never catch the guys. We could never have done that trace. How on earth did you uncover it?” she queried in amazement.
“I don’t think you are meant to know,” he replied with a laugh. “We don’t follow quite the same rules as you do. And perhaps we have more experience.”
They discussed the timing. “You’re ready. Well as ready as you are ever going to be. So I’ll start on Di Maglio next week. I’ll target the end of the year for the hand over,” said Charles.
“How much will you have to pay him?”
“I aim to keep the front end down to a couple of billion. I can get away with a small upfront as he is a keen seller. The annual payment will be that much higher, though. I would suspect that we would need to offer up to fifty per cent of the adjusted gross, capped at around half a billion a year.”
She gasped, this time with incredulity. “But that’s an enormous sum.”
“No. He currently makes about two billion before pay-offs. That’s after the cost of purchase, transportation and the stuff they allow the police to get. But pay-offs and bribes are high; the police aren’t that expensive but the politicians are really greedy. ”
“What is his bottom line then?”
“I guess the adjusted gross is around one point five billion dollars a year, or thereabouts. So, he’ll get about his half billion a year. That still allows the business to make about a billion after all the other costs.
They’ll need that to fund business growth. But, as volumes grow, we would earn more and so the deal is logical for us as well. He won’t be suspicious. On the most likely basis, Di Maglio looks as if he gets around eight or nine billion, assuming he lives to 75.”
“Should he assume that?” she asked inquisitively.
“Look, Maddy. If you want to survive in this business, know only what you need to know. Otherwise, you won’t see next June. That’s not me threatening. That’s reality. Keep your focus on the business. Stick to instructions. Don’t go native. Don’t take any initiatives. Through to about March or April, run for maximum profit.
In May and June, you’ll pass me details of large shipments and we’ll see you get busted by the police and raided by the gangs.
In August or September, at the latest, it’ll all blow up and we’ll snatch you out; or, at least, Delaney will. That’s when you get revealed as an undercover agent and not a double one who came over to their side any more.”
She laughed, “And everyone will say that poor Charles blew it. This wasn’t his world. He was a financier, a bit bent perhaps but not really crooked. That’s what they’ll think. They’ll think you were conned. They’ll curse Di Maglio for his stupidity in allowing me to be put in charge. But I’ll know differently from my safe house. I‘ll have my new identity. In any event, Maddy Brown’s not a real one. And you’ll keep quiet, you’ll just retire hurt and still rich on your side. I will have disappeared, there’ll be the rumours about me being taken out by you, Di Maglio, the Russians and a load more. It’s good.”
She nodded. He then said curtly, “Let’s go. I’ve a plane scheduled in half an hour. What about you?”
“I’m booked on Eurostar. I have no reservation. So I head back into Paris.”
“Do you want to join me?”
“Sorry,” she said. “I’m a government employee. We can’t throw away rail tickets and just jump on planes. These things need authorisation.”
“It’s a private executive jet. Not a scheduled one. It won’t cost you and you may be able to use your train ticket again. There you are, I’m trying to save the government money. That’s unusual for me. But I am a top rate taxpayer.”