Swimming with Sharks

by Nele Neuhaus

  PART THREE

  Early October 2000

  Zack disappeared to California for a few weeks after the Syncrotron debacle. The official story was that he had to organize the restructuring of LMI’s West Coast office. But Alex knew better. Levy had sent Zack to LA until the dust settled and she had calmed down. Even Sergio left the city for a while in August, and she was happy that there was no follow-up on his marriage proposal. She was also relieved that he hadn’t asked her to see him, since the sheer thought of seeing him caused her physical discomfort.

  Oliver had helped her find a new place, because she could no longer stand living in Sergio’s apartment. The converted loft was in Tribeca, in a secure complex that had residential units, offices, and a film company headquarters. Alex liked the underground parking garage the best. In case Sergio was still watching her, it had exits to two streets so she could escape from possible pursuers.

  Over the past few months, she had often considered calling Nick Kostidis, but she simply didn’t have the courage. She had sent him a condolence card and received a printed thank-you note soon thereafter, which he had signed personally.

  The entire financial world seemed to be on vacation in August. But with the start of September, Wall Street was once again flooded with new transactions, and—thanks to Alex—LMI was involved in the biggest and most profitable deals.

  On October 1, she ran into Zack in the LMI Building lobby. He was leaner and seemed relaxed.

  “Let’s bury the hatchet, Alex,” he said in a friendly tone. “I made a silly mistake and got roasted because of it.”

  Alex trusted him as little as before, but she shook his hand for tactical reasons.

  “Truce?” Zack asked.

  “Truce,” she replied.

  She wasn’t surprised when Sergio called her that very same afternoon, right after Levy had ordered her into his office to request a meeting Saturday morning. It was clear they feared that she would resign because Zack was back in town. Their game was annoyingly transparent to Alex. She would have simply loved to tell Sergio to go to hell and leave her alone, but she couldn’t do it just like that. Instead, because of his persistence, she reluctantly accepted an invitation for dinner at his apartment on Park Avenue that coming Friday.

  Sergio was suntanned, and his blue eyes were gleaming. The bullet wound and his son’s death—all of it seemed to have passed him by without a trace. But for the first time since she had known him, Alex wasn’t taken by his handsome looks; she saw that his beauty was as cold and empty as that of an antique statue. The smile didn’t shine in his eyes, and his charming exterior was like a thin layer of varnish over what she knew was a ruthless and brutal core. The moment Alex saw him, she realized that there had never been anything more between them than pure physical attraction.

  They entered one of the apartment’s huge salons where a table was set for two. During the multicourse dinner, Alex had to muster all her strength to pretend that she was happy to see him again after such a long time. But really, she wanted to tell him that she knew he was a murderer. She longed for this arduous evening to end, but the time passed so painfully slowly. They finally made it to the digestif, and Sergio led her to a different salon.

  “I also have a little gift for you, cara,” he announced with a smile and handed her a small package. “Open it. I’m sure that you’ll like it.”

  Alex obeyed and froze when she opened the jewelry box. A diamond-studded white gold necklace lay on black velvet. She would not allow herself to be bought by this gift. Thirty pieces of silver for her silence. Sergio took the necklace and placed it around her neck. She shivered when the cool metal touched her skin. “Wonderful,” he said, satisfied. “I knew that it would look magnificent on you.”

  “I can’t accept this,” Alex refused. “It’s much too valuable.”

  “Yes, you can.” Sergio leaned toward her and kissed her. “You can. The most beautiful jewelry for the most beautiful woman I know.”

  “Sergio, I…” Alex felt more uncomfortable by the minute, but he put his index finger on her lips, smiling.

  “This past year has been difficult for my business,” he said, “but now I’ve solved all the problems and come to the conclusion that it’s time to change my life.”

  Alex felt a chill. She thought about Nick Kostidis, David Zuckerman, and the assassination attempt by the Colombian drug cartel. Oh yes, Sergio had definitely solved his problems in his own way.

  “I think,” he continued, “that you should live here. With me. I’ll file for a divorce from Constanzia, and then we can get married.”

  Alex had hoped that he would never mention this topic again. She didn’t know how to react. His hand was resting on her knee and wandered up her thigh. Then he leaned her head back and kissed her.

  “I love you, cara,” he murmured. “I’ve longed for you so much in the past weeks.”

  Alex cursed herself for accepting Sergio’s invitation. She didn’t want his gift, and she couldn’t stand his touch. The mere thought of being married to this ice-cold killer filled her with horror.

  “We’ll have a wedding that people will still talk about fifty years from now.” His hands slid beneath her blouse, and he started breathing heavily. “And then we’ll cruise on the Stella Maris for our honeymoon—just you and I. For as long as you want. Wouldn’t that be wonderful?”

  Sergio pulled her on top of him, and she was filled with disgust when she felt his erection. But what could she do in this situation other than play along with him?

  “I wish we could get married tomorrow,” she lied, responding to his kiss. She felt like bursting into tears. “It was always my dream to live on Park Avenue. I’m curious what Trevor and Madeleine will say. Maybe you can buy a house on Long Island. Perhaps I’ll resign my position at LMI.”

  Sergio paused for a split second.

  “If that’s what you want, cara,” he whispered hoarsely. “You can do whatever you like.”

  On Saturday morning, Alex arrived at eleven o’clock on the nose at Vincent Levy’s office. Levy led her to his office and offered her some coffee.

  “Alex,” LMI’s president began, “I’d like to talk to you about St. John.”

  He crossed his legs and waited for a reaction, but Alex had no intention of accommodating him. This conversation had been long overdue and should have occurred three months ago, but he had probably been too cowardly.

  “Well,” he continued, “St. John has come to his senses recently. It’s a terrible thing that he snooped around in your desk. I was very angry about that and clearly expressed that to him. But I’m pretty sure that he has learned his lesson. He lost a lot of money using the information that he found to speculate on his own account.”

  Liar, Alex thought. Zack hadn’t lost a penny because it wasn’t his money. But she knew that she also needed to play along with Levy’s game.

  “St. John used an outside brokerage account for his…hmm…personal trades so that no harm was done to LMI.”

  That was also a lie.

  “Vincent,” Alex said, leaning forward, “I suspect that Zack has done this before. I’ve informed him about every imminent deal, as you asked me to, although that violates all kinds of rules. LMI still has an impeccable reputation, but I seriously fear that St. John is threatening it with his insider trading.”

  “I agree.” Levy seemed embarrassed. “This certainly is serious, and I’ve warned St. John never to violate the law again so blatantly.”

  Alex would have burst out laughing if Levy’s farce didn’t have such serious consequences. How stupid did he think she was?

  “I don’t want to work with him anymore,” she said with determination. “He’s betrayed my confidence. I don’t want to be subject to an SEC investigation. I won’t pass on any information to him, and I demand that you prohibit him from entering my office.”

  Alex noticed the thin layer of sweat on Levy’s forehead despite the cool temperature in his office. She had him backed in t
o a corner. Levy and Vitali needed both her and Zack equally to continue their fraudulent conspiracy.

  “I understand that you feel betrayed.” Levy cleared his throat and forced himself to smile. “I also understand that you’re angry, but we’ll find a way to continue together.”

  “Not with St. John!” She shook her head emphatically. “Vince, I have to tell you, I keep getting interesting offers from other firms that I’ve so far declined because I’m happy at LMI and enjoy working here. But if there’s another incident like this, I’ll feel compelled to resign on the spot.”

  “Calm down, Alex! It won’t happen again. I promise you.”

  “Will St. John leave the company?”

  “He’s on the board.” Levy shifted back and forth in his chair. “His dismissal would cause a lot of talk and unrest.”

  “Put yourself in my shoes. Would you like to work with someone who digs around in your desk behind your back?”

  Alex could see how uncomfortable Levy felt.

  “From now on, you will just report to me personally, Alex. You won’t have to deal with St. John anymore.”

  “He’ll boycott all of my deals.” She looked at her boss coolly. “He has already threatened me with that. That’s not particularly fertile ground for a successful future, is it?”

  Levy desperately tried to justify keeping St. John with the firm. He normally would have been fired for insider trading and reported to the authorities—board member or not—but Alex knew that Levy couldn’t exactly do that.

  “Since I can’t trust the information flow in this company anymore,” she said, “I’ll strictly adhere to the Chinese wall principle and keep all of the information to myself until it’s made public.”

  “You’re right.” Levy leaned forward. It almost seemed like there was a hint of panic in his eyes. “You should do it exactly that way. Maybe it was my mistake to involve St. John too much with the M&A department. From now on, you just report to me personally.”

  Alex looked at him closely, and then she stood up.

  “I don’t have a good feeling about this, Vincent. I’ll stay until you find a suitable successor for my position.”

  She knew that Levy would immediately tell Sergio about this conversation. Yesterday, she had told him that she would like to resign at LMI. Everything was working out perfectly. It wouldn’t be hard for her to move on from LMI; she really would have no problem finding a new job. She’d just recently had an interesting conversation with Carter Ringwood from First Boston, where he had offered her a position. Levy also stood up.

  “I understand your anger,” he said, “but please don’t make any rash decisions. We’re extremely pleased with your performance and would be happy to offer you a contract with a higher fixed salary. Think about it.”

  “It’s not about the money,” Alex replied. “I just don’t want to be put behind bars.”

  “I’ll arrange everything so you’re happy,” Levy promised. “Okay?”

  “Do what you can.”

  She shook her boss’s hand and left his office.

  Right after the door closed behind her, Levy sank into the chair behind his desk. He felt like wringing St. John’s neck! Everything was going smoothly, but the man had acted like an absolute rookie. If St. John hadn’t told Alex that he’d rummaged around in her papers, then nothing would have happened. Damn his greed and pathological narcissism! Someone in his position had to be able to keep it together. Nevertheless, it was obvious the man couldn’t bear the fact that Alex’s star was shining brighter than ever.

  Levy sighed as he grabbed the telephone and dialed Sergio Vitali’s number. He had hoped that Alex would calm down after three months, but this apparently wasn’t the case. If she stuck to her threat and left LMI, it would put an end to these lucrative side earnings for quite a while. Finding someone as good as she was would be difficult, if not impossible.

  On the other end of the line, Sergio personally answered the phone.

  “I’m afraid that she’s suspicious,” Levy said. “She demands that I fire Zack. If not, she’s threatening to quit LMI.”

  Sergio replied calmly. “Just take it easy. We’ve opened an account for her, and we’ll tell her about it when the time is right. I bet that she’ll become agreeable by then.”

  “I don’t know. It’s not easy to intimidate her. She’s really clever.”

  Sergio knew that. He smiled slightly. Although he still couldn’t figure her out, she had seemed sincere with him last night. She had seemed pleased with the necklace and the prospect of living on Park Avenue. They made plans for their future together. She had even confided in him about her mistrust of St. John and her desire to leave LMI. She even told him that she’d been at Gracie Mansion, and how shocked she was about the attack on the mayor. Never before had Alex talked this openly to him.

  “She’ll be reasonable, Vince,” he reassured his business partner. “Don’t worry about her.”

  “I hope you’re right.”

  Levy wasn’t so convinced.

  “I will be, as usual,” Sergio countered. “I have Alex under control.”

  Alex left her office after sitting at her desk for a few hours. She hadn’t accomplished anything. She was preoccupied with Sergio’s behavior and all of the things that she had uncovered. It was obvious that Levy wasn’t about to fire Zack—after all, he was the man for his dirty work. Furthermore, he knew too much. But despite all of this, she was also indispensable to this elaborate scheme to generate dirty money. This was obviously why Sergio and Levy wouldn’t let her leave LMI. Sergio’s renewed marriage proposal could have been earnest, but Alex wasn’t sure whether his primary motive was to tie her to him and to LMI. It would be a lie to claim she wasn’t afraid of Sergio. He terrified her.

  Alex sighed and closed her eyes. Last night she had decided to call Nick Kostidis. She needed to talk to him. He was the only person who could tell her what to do with the information she had. From a phone booth, she dialed the number that Nick had given to her. A man named Frank Cohen answered.

  “This is Alex Sontheim,” she said. “I need to speak to Mayor Kostidis. It’s important.”

  “Mayor Kostidis is unavailable at the moment,” he replied.

  “I was a guest at Gracie Mansion in July. Mayor Kostidis knows me.”

  Cohen hesitated.

  “Listen,” Alex said emphatically, “I know that this might be a bad time, but I have information that could shed light on the bombing.”

  “Mayor Kostidis is in no condition to talk about this. I hope you understand.”

  “Of course,” Alex replied. “But when can I speak to him?”

  “I can’t help you. I’m sorry. Try his office again in a few weeks.”

  In a few weeks! This guy must be joking! Alex thanked him and hung up. It occurred to her that she’d read somewhere that Nick’s family had been buried at the St. Ignatius cemetery in Brooklyn. It was too late now, but she planned to drive there the next morning. Maybe she’d be lucky and find Nick there.

  The St. Ignatius cemetery was so old it almost felt medieval. With its tall old trees and ivy-covered walls, it seemed like a film set for a historical movie.

  In the taxi to Brooklyn, Alex kept looking through the rear window, but her fear of being followed seemed unfounded. The air was cool for early October, and morning fog made the cemetery even darker than it already was.

  Alex walked slowly through the rows of graves. Weeds were sprouting from the cracks in the veined, bulging stone slabs. The lettering on the gravestones was faded from the wind and weather. Mold-covered marble angels stared stoically into the distance with unfocused eyes.

  Although the aura of mortality was oppressive, she was fascinated by this cemetery—a peaceful, surreal oasis in the middle of this restless city. Alex had no clue where the graves of Mary and Christopher Kostidis were, and she seemed to be the only living person there. She wandered among the graves until she finally saw Nick Kostidis. He was sitting on a bench wi
th his back hunched and his head lowered. He seemed so lonely, so unhappy, that her heart constricted in sympathy. How could she even consider bothering him with her problems? Who was she to disturb him in his grieving? It was far too late to help him.

  Alex hesitated and was about to turn around when the church bells started chiming. Kostidis looked up, and their eyes met. She walked over to him.

  She looked down at the grave. Reading the names etched into the granite gravestone, she realized that Nick Kostidis’s entire family was buried here: his parents, his brothers, and now also his wife and son. Suddenly, she felt his pain and fought back tears while folding her hands and murmuring the only prayer that she could remember from her childhood—the Lord’s Prayer.

  How terrible and senseless these deaths were. She slowly turned her gaze toward the dark eyes of this man she had met that night at the Plaza almost two years ago. He had warned her at the time, but she didn’t listen to him. Alex remembered the intensity of his eyes and his laugh. He had aged years during the past few months.

  She suddenly couldn’t remember why she had come here. Without saying a word, she sat down next to him on the bench. The bells stopped chiming, and the quiet sound of an organ seeped through the thick walls of the church, its silhouette visible in the morning fog.

  “For almost three months now, I’ve been sitting here for hours every day,” Nick said quietly after a while. “I’m waiting for the moment when I can finally cry.”

  He ran a hand through his hair, which had turned increasingly gray.