The Financial Terrorist

by John Gubert

  She’s thirty something and wants to make some real money. I must have paid her a couple of million in the last years. She wants to get seriously rich and this is her big chance.”

  “What makes you certain about her?” queried Di Maglio.

  “She’s worked for me for some time. And she won’t get a better offer from anyone else. And she wants to move to greater luxury. She needs real cash or she won’t be able to disappear and enjoy life. Now, she has to pretend she has nothing but her salary at the secret service or they would be suspicious. In any case, she would get twenty to thirty years for what she’s done for me already and that can only get worse when she works in the Empire.”

  “We meet tomorrow here at ten.” That curt sentence was Di Maglio’s only acknowledgement that he knew he’d lost. There was no point. He was not one to negotiate without a chance of winning. He wanted out. He wanted them in. He had a purpose in life again. He would seek to corrupt one of their children to try to get them to take over the Empire. He still did not realise that, by then, there would be no Empire to take over.

  They left without sitting down. They didn’t shake hands. There was no emotion between him and Jacqui. And they did not care. They had won the first round. There would be negotiations and he would try to retain some power. But he had no choice. He had the losing hand.

  That evening they went to the opera. Don Juan was one of their favourites. The beauty of the music and the richness of the voices overpowered them and allowed them to forget the reality of the present. They held each others’ hands as they enjoyed the scene before them. The words had less meaning than the sounds. The bodies talked. As it ended and Don Juan descended into hell, Charles thought of Di Maglio. He longed to destroy him and his Empire. He wanted revenge for all the lives he had destroyed.

  He felt no remorse for the gunfights and the gang warfare. But he thought of people like Claire who had been tempted into prostitution and then worse. He thought of people like Carrie who had taken drugs and perhaps lacked the strength to stop. He thought of the murders and the punishments. He contemplated the deceit and the threats.

  Did they differ from them? Perhaps they did. But he knew it was only because they destroyed through money. They killed but only with reason. They destroyed but only for a purpose. He knew he was trying to distinguish his world from that of Di Maglio. And he knew that the only real difference was in Di Maglio’s casual disregard for the lives that he wasted through his world of drugs. Charles persuaded himself it was material but he had only half convinced himself of that fact as they left for home.

  The contract was short and clear. The changes were only for clarification. The dates were set. The price was agreed. And they signed. It all seemed an anti-climax after the hours of anguish. He had agreed. This was the best deal. He now wanted to have it over.

  They signed and this time they shook hands. Di Maglio’s hands were cold as ice. They were rough to the touch. They were powerful and almost crushed Charles. Di Maglio looked him in the eyes. Was he pleading? Or was he threatening? Charles would never know but he spat the words out under his breath. He alone could hear.

  “This has taken my whole life to build. We’ve been grossing two billion or so a year before bribes. Grow it or you’ll regret it.”

  “I’ll look after it as I said,” Charles snarled back. “Let’s hope your people are disciplined or they’ll have trouble. From December you’re out and an outsider. Make sure they know that. The rules you made about outsiders will continue. And those rules will have no exception.”

  Di Maglio muttered “bastard” at him under his breath and then took Jacqui’s hands.

  “You’re something of family. Act with honour. Make sure he looks after it well.” It was a plea. Jacqui looked coolly at him. She kissed his forehead, very briefly.

  “You’ve done the right thing. You need to rest and then enjoy yourself.” She quickly disengaged herself and joined Charles. With their lawyers in tow they walked out. They had the Empire. And on Monday, Maddy Brown would start to run it their way. And destroy what Di Maglio had dedicated his entire life to building.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  They returned that evening from Paris. And on Monday morning, Charles left again with Maddy Brown for Geneva.

  She was wearing trousers and a tailored tweed jacket. She was also carrying a gun. He had not realised until he saw her take off her jacket.

  She was keen to start and was trying to find out how to make her mark. It was going to have to be with Di Maglio. Any victory over him would be noted and give her the reputation for toughness. And she would need that reputation and the power of control that went with it if she were to nurse the Empire through to its final destruction.

  Di Maglio was waiting for them at his compound. He looked at Maddy. At first glance, she did not seem to have the strength to run an Empire. He looked with ill disguised contempt at the long elegant legs, the slim waist and the long blond hair. They all seemed to indicate softness. The eyes continued that impression, as did the mouth with its tendency to crinkle into a smile.

  Di Maglio ignored her outstretched hand and turned to Charles, “She’s a kid. This is your idea of a manager? She’ll be eaten alive.”

  Charles didn’t have time to answer. Maddy interrupted in a soft and quiet voice, “By whom?”

  “By my animals,” snarled back Di Maglio. He gave her a look of total contempt. “They’re hardly going to be keen to have a barbie doll as a boss.”

  Di Maglio had a couple of his sidekicks with him. Charles had seen them before but only knew they came from the prostitution and extortion end of his business. One of them laughed at this comment and, in a thick accent, offered to get the barbie doll a real job on his books. His laugh seemed to jerk to a halt as Maddy’s foot streaked upwards and caught him neatly in the crotch. Then a slow and effortless arm crashed down on the back of his neck as he doubled over and then crashed down again as he started to fall.

  The second man moved forward as Maddy drew her gun and calmly shot him in the knee. The gun had disappeared and the man had collapsed, bleeding, on the floor before the guards came through the door.

  Di Maglio ignored the injured men. He turned on the guards and raged at them for having allowed someone to his presence still armed. Then he ordered the men to remove the casualties. He turned to Maddy and this time there was a smile on his lips.

  “You’re tough. You’ll keep them in check. Now, let’s see if you can run a business like this.”

  There followed a discussion about the intricacies of the business. Charles was amazed at how much Maddy knew. She was impressive. She looked good. She fought well. And she sounded good. She was getting more attractive by the moment. He now saw why Delaney had selected her. He wondered if she would cross over to his business after they had finished with Di Maglio. She had something of Claire about her. There was that fresh look of innocent fun, behind which stalked a ruthless killer instinct. Maddy played to win.

  Three hours later, they were finished. Maddy asked Di Maglio when he would leave.

  “As agreed, at the end of December,” he said. “Till then I’m the boss and you work for me.”

  “No way,” Charles said quietly. “Maddy works for me. You’re the boss and you call the shots. But it’s handover time. You can hand everything over on the last day or you can hand things over as time goes on. But you hand things over in whole chunks. I want one business at a time. No fuzzy handovers. No dependencies on areas under your control. We do this my way. You follow the line in clause eight.”

  Di Maglio turned to Giovanni who had come into the room at the time of the commotion over the shooting. “What the fuck’s clause eight?”

  “There shall be no joint running of any part of the business during the handover period,” he replied. “Both parties have to agree before any area of activity is handed over.”

  “That’s a crap clause.”

  “It’s normal in this t
ype of arrangement.”

  “Nothing’s normal. I’m giving this jerk my business. The ungrateful sod doesn’t even want it. And you’re telling me he has me by the balls until the day I go. I only do what he agrees. You call that normal?”

  “Wrong,” said Charles. “You do what you want. You explain it to Maddy. She has no say in your decisions. When you want you hand over a part of your business. Or you hand it all over together on December 31st. If Maddy agrees the business stands alone, then she’ll take it. If she doesn’t believe that, she’ll tell you. Maddy talks to me. She’s your contact to me. I depend on her call. Call me and I’ll still ask her. Those are my rules.”

  He mouthed “Fuck you” and walked away from them, talking in an agitated manner to Giovanni.

  “Well, he really loves you,” said Maddy sarcastically. Her mouth puckered again around the edges. Her eyes sparkled with fun. “This is not a good start. But you don’t need a relationship with someone who’s not going to be around in a month or so.”

  Charles cut her off sharply, “Don’t kid yourself. He could have you killed in that month. He could set traps. He could do a lot of damage. Be careful and be alert. A couple of kicks and blows or a shot or two doesn’t impress anyone. They’ve killed for less. You crucified two macho men’s self esteem just now. That’s the human equivalent of castration for them. And they won’t forgive you.”

  She looked at him in a new light. She was serious. “You’re tougher than I thought. You live this life. You’ve lived it for years. And it hasn’t affected you.”

  He returned her stare. He knew his face betrayed no emotions. “That’s what all this is about. It’s about lifestyles that are sustainable. Just do as you’re told and succeed. Otherwise, I’ll kill you if Di Maglio doesn’t.”

  She stared at him. Her face was quite white. Her nose flared out. Her eyes looked a bit frightened. “You mean it don’t you,” she whispered. They were standing, but their heads were close together.

  “It’ll be you or me and my family. I mean it. That doesn’t mean I want it.”

  “Do you say that every time you kill anyone?” she queried. The colour was returning to her face but the eyes still looked worried.

  “Look, I’m not new to this business. I’ve fucked and been fucked as he would say,” he said jerking his head over towards Di Maglio. He was still in deep conversation with Giovanni. He was gesticulating angrily, ignoring their presence totally.

  She looked at Charles. “And I thought you just hung around the periphery with the chosen few, with Claire and Maria, but nobody else.”

  “Forget that. By the way, noting the innuendo, my private life is taboo. It’s outside your brief. Don’t forget I’m the boss and the only boss. Otherwise I’ll deliver you back.”

  “In a wooden box?” she queried.

  He stared at her. Did she know more about him than he thought? Maddy was getting dangerous. But then this was a dangerous game. And he was dealing with a tiger, not a pussycat. He noted to be careful nevertheless. Meanwhile Di Maglio returned to them with Giovanni by his side.

  “I’ll hand over the hotels next Monday, then extortion and prostitution the following week. The drug side will be last on the day that I leave.”

  “Fine,” said Maddy crisply. “Where do I work from?”

  “We head for New York this afternoon. Is your boss boy going to come with us?”

  “I doubt it,” she replied. “The boss man already said that he would leave me in charge. He’s got more important fish to fry. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have hired me. You have plenty of hit men, yes men and “I shall obey” men on your bankroll. He could have recruited one of them if he wanted just that. Don’t you agree?”

  The last question was delivered with a saccharine sweet smile. Di Maglio looked at her with loathing, but then also with a bit of respect. The lady did come over as having balls, definitely more than the vast majority of men employed by him.

  Charles looked at them and smiled at Maddy. He went up to her and gave her a peck on the cheek. “Be good. And enjoy yourself. But don’t enjoy yourself too much. Be on guard.”

  She laughed and said, “I’ll keep you in touch. Don’t get concerned, I’ll look after your inheritance.”

  Charles said “goodbye” to Di Maglio. He still found it hard to be polite. Giovanni was more distant than usual, but then, the last time they had met, Charles had proposed to take him out if he double-crossed him, so that wasn’t surprising. He looked at the two and then at Maddy. The girl was going to earn her keep this time.

  Business back in London, New York and all the other places the bank took him led them up to Christmas. Maddy called him on schedule every day. The handover was going smoothly. She knew how to handle herself. She co-existed with Di Maglio. She believed his affection for the cesspool of a business he’d built up meant he would hand it to her in good shape.

  The common gossip showed they had been right about his inner thoughts. He was gambling on the fact that Jacqui and Charles would have a son and that son would turn against them. Just like Jacqui had turned against him. That son would be the saviour of his business, taking it to new heights, or depths, depending on your viewpoint.

  Christmas at the office was one round of endless parties. They appeared at the junior ones in time to be noticed and left before the under the table frolics became too embarrassing to watch. They attended the dinners that the chief executive is forced to attend. The select restaurant was the preferred venue for corporate finance. A rowdy funfair was taken over for the evening by the traders. A disco was the choice of the operations’ people. And so the final weeks progressed in their alcoholic haze for the many, as compulsory jollity became an unnatural by-product of the season.

  Christmas at home was limited to the family. On the day after they saw friends. But they spent most of the five-day weekend playing and going for walks with Juliet. The last day of the holiday was cool and crisp, in sharp contrast to the damp and dismal weather of the earlier part. With a pushchair as a precaution against tiredness, they walked through Kensington Gardens with Juliet. They carried the bread that she wanted for the ducks, although they suspected that the holiday would mean they’d be spoilt for choice.

  And they were right. The ducks came up and looked in contempt at the soggy chunks of bread that floated at the side of the round pond. They had no doubt supped on finer produce earlier in the day. Their needs satisfied, they did not care if they disappointed the children. Their charity was transitory, and they would not come when it was cold and wet. That was the time when ducks really wanted feeding.

  Luckily some pigeons swooped down and grabbed the floating morsels. That cheered up Juliet no end. She transferred her affections to them, indifferent to the fact they were grubby City dwellers. They needed her offerings and she now loved the bird kingdom’s equivalent of the City vagrant.

  They walked on. In the end Juliet got into the pushchair. Jacqui put a blanket over her. They guessed she would soon be tired and doze off. Jacqui hardly looked pregnant at three and a half months and she was happy to stroll on with him. They both didn’t like round trips. They would walk on as far as they could and then head out of the park in search of a taxi to take them back home. They meandered through to Hyde Park and along its paths.

  The crisp day had brought out many, keen to walk off some of the extra calories caused by the Christmas feeding frenzy. They walked slowly, Jacqui leaning on Charles’ arm and Juliet fast asleep in her buggy. Everything was peaceful. The people around them were distant blurs as they gently talked to each other about friends and family.

  Charles’ parents had headed for the West Indies for a sunnier climate than the depressing bleakness of the Provence coastline. Many of their friends had gone skiing. Others had headed for the sun. Few seemed to have stayed in London. But that was no problem for them. They had had five days together and that was a rarity indeed.

  “Our New Year’s resolution should be t
o be together more,” said Jacqui. “When we have broken the bank and destroyed the Empire, we’ll be free. We’ll be worth endless billions and we can sink back and relax in luxury. We haven’t really done that for a long time, since we started on that money laundering in France all those years ago. Those were fun days. They were exciting. Things have changed. We’ve become too much part of an establishment to which we don’t belong.”

  Charles agreed, “We’re free spirits in reality. My parents are and so are we. We’re too unconventional for the bank. But then we’re doing unconventional things with it. I wish we could find that beach where we could have our house and our retreat.”

  “You carry on working,” laughed Jacqui. “Perhaps I’ll surprise you and find something.”

  Charles went to interrupt her, “Don’t ask. We may be closer than you think. But I want to be sure first, then I’ll surprise you.”

  “How will that be? Would you buy it without me seeing it?”

  “Why shouldn’t I? We could keep it as an investment and rent it out; or keep it for ourselves if we wanted. Or use it for part of the year. But I haven’t done anything yet. I haven’t even seen anything. But I’ll step up the pace now. I want it soon. There are several options open. I’ll fly out to some of them next month, then I’ll tell you which one to see.”

  “You say which one? That makes it sound as if you’ll decide without me.”

  “No,” she laughed. “Don’t worry. I’ll not force you. I just know that we want something so special that I doubt there’s more than one on the market at any time. If we can’t find the right one, I’ll get something for the short term. We can then find the permanent place later.”

  He looked at her and asked jokingly, “Permanent? Is there such a thing for us in terms of living space? ”