Swimming with Sharks

by Nele Neuhaus

  RloginBM5.0LMINY.target.com-1-froot<

  The screen turned black for a few seconds, and then the password prompt appeared.

  “And now?” Mark asked.

  “This system has an embedded command that circumvents the password. You have to think of it as a universal key.”

  >etx/passw/10pht.com.unix<

  The computer hummed away busily. Then the monitor flickered and displayed a message that Justin obviously expected, but it took Alex and Mark’s breathe away.

  Welcome to Levy Manhattan Investments, New York City.

  “Unbelievable,” Alex murmured.

  “Ingenious!” Mark said, visibly impressed.

  “Now we have unrestricted access to the server.” Justin licked his lips like a satisfied cat. “Let’s see if we can solve your problem. What should I look for?”

  “Private Equity Technology Partners,” Alex said promptly.

  “Fund management,” Oliver added. It took a few minutes for Justin to find the securities department information after maneuvering through various LMI server interfaces.

  “Holy cow,” he said, “they’ve got hundreds of them!”

  “Of course,” Alex said, “investment funds are totally legal.”

  Oliver leaned forward and looked over Justin’s shoulder.

  “That’s the one,” he said. “May I?”

  “Sure, go ahead.” Justin moved aside obligingly. Alex marveled at Oliver’s focus. She had never seen him at work before and noticed that he appeared to be on familiar ground. But after a while the hopeful tension in his face gave way to a look of resignation.

  “This is the wrong place,” he said, chewing pensively on his lower lip. “They only manage legal funds, and there’s no indication of risky investments.”

  He gave Justin his seat back.

  “We need to get into the database module where the offshore companies are managed,” he said.

  “Maybe they’re not doing it from headquarters, but from a subsidiary in the Caymans or Switzerland.”

  “Okay,” Justin said, “let me try a help command.”

  He typed in a combination of numbers and letters again.

  “Ah, yes,” he eventually said, “here it is. There are a number of limited partnerships that are owned by the company’s subsidiaries. We have quite a big selection here: LMI in Los Angeles, Chicago, London, Frankfurt, Hong Kong, Cape Town, or Singapore; Banque Villiers Suisse in Geneva, Zurich, Monaco, and Liechtenstein; Levy & Villiers in Zurich, Nassau/Bahamas, and Georgetown/Grand Cayman; LV Invest on Samoa and Labuan; SeViCo in Panama City, Gibraltar, Road Town/BVI…”

  “Stop!” Oliver yelled; everyone looked at him in surprise.

  “Let me see,” he said. “They list SeViCo as a subsidiary of LMI? Unbelievable! I thought that only Vitali was behind this, but…”

  His eyes met Alex’s.

  “SeViCo,” she murmured, “could also be derived from Sergio and Vincent.”

  “Exactly,” Oliver said, “and it would be the proof that the two of them are in it together.”

  Justin focused and worked silently for almost an hour, but then he shook his head.

  “It’s a dead end,” he said. “I’m not getting anywhere with SeViCo. They do it differently; I don’t get it.”

  The four of them were at a loss. How all of these companies were related to each other was too complex to figure out. Oliver jumped up and paced back and forth in the tiny office.

  “Let’s recap,” he said. “Alex has a suspicion that someone conducts illegal business with her confidential information. Mark and Alex found out that MPM buys the stock of companies that are about to be acquired or merged. According to the commercial register, MPM is owned by Venture Capital SeaStarFriends Limited Partnership. In turn, a fund launched by LMI called Private Equity Technology Partners is invested in the latter. Correct?”

  Alex and Mark nodded.

  “SeaStarFriends is a partnership registered in the British Virgin Islands. All of this smells like money laundering.” Oliver frowned and shook his head. “We need to approach this differently. Justin, can you try to get into the commercial registry on the British Virgin Islands?”

  “Sure.” Justin went back to work. Oliver, Mark, and Alex followed his efforts, tensely registering his every breath.

  “I should work for the IRS,” he said after about a half hour. “I’m in.”

  The three of them felt electrified.

  “The safety measures are quite ridiculous.” Justin pointed to his screen. “Here are the registration numbers of every company registered on the British Virgin Islands…Let’s see…”

  “Venture Capital SeaStarFriends Limited Partnership,” Oliver said with a triumphant smile, “incorporated on May 25, 1998. The general partner is Vincent Isaac Levy, and the limited partner is Mr. Sergio Ignazio Vitali.”

  “My God,” Alex whispered, “I can’t believe it.”

  “MPM is owned by Levy and Vitali,” Oliver said.

  “Then Zack isn’t working for himself. He’s working for them.” Alex felt miserable all of a sudden. Vincent Levy and Sergio Vitali made gigantic, risk-free profits through this fake company using insider information that she delivered to them! She didn’t even have to look for the individual stock purchases—she was certain that MPM always bought before a merger or acquisition was publicly announced. Sergio must have made millions, if not billions, over the past few months! Rage rose within her. Sergio had been using her the whole time. Now she understood his attempt at reconciliation the night he was shot, as well as his marriage proposal: he was afraid that his golden goose would fly off if she left him. Worst of all, she didn’t know what to do with this discovery. No one would believe that she hadn’t a clue about MPM and SeaStarFriends. She was Sergio’s lover. People would obviously think that she was an accomplice.

  “That’s exactly what Shanahan did,” Oliver observed, but Alex didn’t respond. He had been right the whole time!

  “If there’s one of these companies,” Mark pointed out, “then there are probably more like it. And if LMI invests in them with its own funds, then that means Levy and Vitali profit. Tax free.”

  Alex felt a chill. Sergio and Levy started SeaStarFriends right when she joined LMI. They had profited from her deals from the very beginning. But in contrast to Shanahan, who knew what he was doing, she wasn’t privy to the situation. Sergio had lied to her in every respect.

  “What are they doing with all this dough?” Justin threw out. “I mean, what do you need all those millions for?”

  “If you have one million, then you want two,” Oliver replied. “If you have two, then you want ten; and if you have ten, you want a hundred. The greed of some people is virtually insatiable.”

  “This setup is almost perfect,” Mark observed. “Really, we should admire anyone who could come up with this.”

  “That’s true,” Oliver said, “and it’s absolutely safe for the people pulling the strings. If one of these companies goes bust, then you can hardly trace it back to whoever is behind it. The authorities are busy enough. If one of the trails leads to an offshore financial center, they’ll simply drop it and keep going after little guys they can catch in their own country.”

  “Nevertheless,” Alex said, trying to maintain her composure, although she was boiling inside, “Justin’s question is valid. I’d also love to find out what they’re doing with all this money. Vitali already has everything that money can buy. There must be another reason why he’s doing this.”

  “What do you mean?” Oliver cast her a probing glance, but Alex didn’t answer. She suddenly remembered a conversation that she’d overheard during the charity event at the Plaza. The wife of New York’s building commissioner told Vincent Levy’s wife that they had been vacationing in the Caymans at Sergio’s expense. Did Sergio repay McIntyre for a favor in this way?

  “Justin,” Alex asked, “could you get into the computer of Levy & Villiers in Georgetown on Grand Cayman?”
/>   “I can try,” he said.

  “What do you expect to find?” Oliver asked in surprise.

  “Maybe nothing,” Alex said, “but maybe material that will secure your Pulitzer Prize.”

  Oliver grinned, but Justin’s face turned grim after a few minutes.

  “I need a specific password in order to get into the network on the Caymans,” he said.

  “Why’s that? Do they use a different operating system?” Mark asked.

  “It’s an added safety feature.” Justin shrugged his shoulders. “The computer isn’t linked to the one in New York.”

  He went to work at a different computer.

  Eventually, he said, “Let’s grab some food. If we’re lucky, CryptCrack will hack the password by the time we’re back.”

  “What the hell is that?” Mark wanted to know.

  “CryptCrack,” Justin said, “is a password-hacking program that I recently developed. Now I can test it in real circumstances.”

  They left the computer alone with this Herculean task and went to the MIT cafeteria, located in a different building on the campus. They were starving after so many tense hours in the basement.

  Mary Kostidis sighed. Even though he didn’t say anything, more and more she could feel the enormous pressure weighing on her husband. Vitali Junior’s death, the hostilities in the press, and this strange terrorist—all of this strained his nerves. At last night’s dinner for the Canadian ambassador, Nick was his old entertaining, charming, and relaxed self for a while. However, when Mary later went into his office—where he had disappeared with Ray Howard—she could tell from his expression that something else had happened. She asked him about it afterward, but he simply dismissed her question.

  In the past, Nick had involved her in his life. They discussed their problems with each other, and he’d asked for her opinion. But during the last few months, something had changed between them. For the first time in their long marriage, Mary Kostidis didn’t know what her husband was dealing with. Why was he hiding important things from her? When she stepped out on the terrace last night, she had thought for a brief, crazy moment that there could possibly be another woman in his life. Mary noticed how her husband looked at Alex Sontheim, the beautiful and highly intelligent banker. The expression on his face caused a painful sting in her heart. For as long as she’d known him, he had never given her such an enraptured and fascinated look. Had Nick fallen in love with her? Without a doubt, Alex was an extraordinary woman: successful, independent, and exceptionally sharp. She was beautiful, but she was also Sergio Vitali’s lover. Was that possibly the reason why he had invited her? Did Nick think that he could finally get to his archenemy through Alex? Or was there more behind it?

  The morning was still fresh, but the heat would become unbearable in a few hours. The months of July and August were intolerable in the city, which is why many New Yorkers who could afford to spent their time in the countryside or near the ocean did so. Nick Kostidis sat in the office at Gracie Mansion with his assistants Frank Cohen and Ray Howard, something they often did on Sunday mornings. After a light breakfast, they discussed important issues for which they rarely had time otherwise. Frank read the agenda for the imminent visit of a Korean delegation, and Nick watched out the window as Christopher and Britney loaded their luggage into their black BMW. He was glad that they were taking Mary with them for a while. The way that things were developing here, it seemed better for to get her out of the city for a few days. Especially considering the second threatening letter. Frank vehemently insisted on getting Nick more security, but he didn’t tell Mary any of this. There were some things he preferred to keep to himself to avoid unnecessarily upsetting his wife. Mary had been nervous, even depressed in recent months. Time and again, Nick caught her staring absentmindedly out the window. She was usually bursting with energy, but now she seemed to be collapsing like a withered flower. He feared that she was sick, but none of the doctors could explain her condition. They advised him to shield her from any worries and show her more attention. But he missed exchanging ideas with Mary. For so many years, she had accepted the idea that his work had priority without complaining. Now, in her weakened state, he decided not to bother her with his worries.

  It had been difficult for him to maintain his fearless and strong demeanor recently, because he felt increasingly discouraged and depressed. Things had gotten worse because he secretly longed for a woman other than his own wife. Nick couldn’t explain his fascination for Alex Sontheim, but there wasn’t a single day that he didn’t think about her. Yesterday evening, he’d noticed with a racing heart that her open aversion toward him had given way to a cautious sympathy. Maybe it would have been better not to invite her after all.

  “I think they’re having problems with the car,” Frank observed and pulled Nick from his thoughts. “It looks like it’s not starting.”

  “Let me take a look.” Nick stood up. “I’ll be back in a moment.”

  “The alternator is dead,” Christopher Kostidis announced as his father stepped into the parking lot. Carey Lhota shrugged his shoulders and stepped back from the open hood.

  “Unfortunately, I can’t do anything about it,” the chauffeur apologized.

  “Too bad,” Mary said. “Now we have to postpone our departure for a few hours.”

  “We can’t fix it that fast.” Christopher was annoyed as he looked under the hood. “Especially on a Sunday.”

  “Well,” Nick said with a grin, “if you drove a solid American car, then…”

  “Then it’d also take time to get a new alternator,” Christopher proudly defended his BMW.

  “Why don’t you take my car,” Nick suggested. “Carey can bring the BMW to the repair shop tomorrow.”

  “But you still need the car,” Mary objected.

  “I can ride with Frank or Ray.” Nick shook his head. “That’s no problem.”

  “I hope you’re not riding around town on the subway?” Mary looked at her husband with concern.

  “No, I know you don’t like when I do that.” Nick laughed and put an arm around his wife’s waist.

  “I’d really like to leave before it occurs to the rest of New York to go to Long Island.” Christopher looked at his watch.

  “Come on!” Nick called. “Reload your luggage.”

  Mary took his hand.

  “Can’t you come with us for a few days?” she asked. Nick smiled and touched her face with both of his hands.

  “You know what I was just thinking?” he said quietly. “I actually thought about coming out to Montauk on Friday.”

  “Really?” Mary looked at her husband incredulously. “And your work?”

  “I’ll arrange it somehow.” He kissed her.

  “You promise?” Mary suddenly seemed genuinely happy.

  “Yes, I promise. I’m looking forward to it.”

  “We’re ready to go, Mom!” Christopher called. Britney was already sitting in the limousine’s passenger seat.

  “I love you, Nick,” Mary whispered. “Take good care of yourself!”

  “What the heck are they doing?”

  Raymond Howard looked out the window and saw Christopher Kostidis sitting behind the wheel of the limousine. His face suddenly turned as white as a sheet.

  “What’s going on?” Frank asked his colleague in surprise.

  “My God, no. They must not under any circumstance…” Howard fell silent. Cold sweat broke out on his forehead. He saw Mary Kostidis kissing her husband good-bye. Christopher waved impatiently and called out something, while Britney Edwards sat in the passenger seat and smiled.

  “Shit!” Howard cursed and charged out the door as if being chased by furies. Frank didn’t understand what was happening. Howard ran down the long corridor as fast as he could. The limousine had just rolled out of the parking lot as he jumped down the stairs. Mary and Britney waved from the open windows. Howard saw Nick smile and wave. He saw the dark blue car and ran after it, without regard for what his boss
thought about him.

  “Stop!” he screamed, running after the car with wildly waving arms. “Stop! Stop at once! Get out of the car, right now!”

  When Justin got back to his desk, he found that CryptCrack had actually done its job, and he laughed like a little boy. He rubbed his hands and turned his gaze toward the screen. For a while, he seemed to forget everything around him. Just Oliver and Alex returned to MIT’s basement with Justin. During their meal, they’d decided that Mark should fly back to New York. Although Alex hadn’t eaten anything since the evening at Gracie Mansion, she couldn’t manage more than half a sandwich. Her stomach was tied in knots, and not just because of Oliver’s probing glance, directed at her every now and then. What should she do if her suspicion was confirmed? How could she keep working at a firm that was involved in such illegal business? And how could she ever get rid of Sergio? She felt trapped, controlled by these people.

  “There’s a high security area in the Levy & Villiers computer,” Justin said suddenly, startling Alex out of her thoughts. “There’s nothing unusual here at first sight, but some files are ultrasecure.”

  “Can you get into them?” Oliver asked and Justin nodded. Except for the clicking of the keyboard, it was completely quiet in the office. Mark’s presence had neutralized the tension between them, but now it was back again and any levity had disappeared.

  “Weird,” Justin said after a while, “these are just anonymous numbered accounts.”

  “Let me see,” Oliver and Alex said at the same time, looking over Justin’s shoulder.

  Alex explained to Justin how people opened numbered accounts. Anywhere in the world, the client needed to present proof of identity to the bank. But after that, the account was given a number or fictitious name known only to the client and the bank’s employee. Clients were protected from detection by the authorities—at least at banks in Switzerland, Liechtenstein, Luxembourg, or the Caribbean. These banks provided the utmost discretion and lured individuals with wealth of questionable origin. The Bahamas and the Caymans attracted many people who didn’t want to travel as far as Europe to evade taxation or the judicial authorities.