Swimming with Sharks

by Nele Neuhaus

  Alex felt as if a cold hand had grabbed her by the neck. All of the color vanished from her face.

  “Sergio killed his own son?” she whispered, terrified.

  “Yes,” Constanzia said, nodding, “not with his own hands, of course. He wouldn’t, because he has people for that. But I know he did. He was afraid that, under pressure in prison, Cesare would start talking. My son had to die for the same reason as David Zuckerman or the man at LMI who was supposedly run over.”

  Alex swallowed frantically.

  “Gilbert Shanahan?”

  “Yes, I think that was his name. His wife told the truth. The poor woman would have been better off keeping her mouth shut. They put her into a psychiatric clinic, and now she’s wasting away in a padded cell.”

  Alex’s mouth was dry as cotton. Once she took it all in, she was overcome with terror. Oliver was right. Gilbert Shanahan had been killed because he didn’t want to play the game anymore and tried to get out.

  “Why are you telling me all this, Mrs. Vitali?” she whispered.

  Constanzia looked at her.

  “I came here to warn you and to ask you for something,” she said. “I overheard a conversation last Sunday evening. Natale Torrinio, one of the killers who works for Sergio, told him that he saw you at the cemetery with Mayor Kostidis.”

  Alex tried to control her panic. Natale Torrinio—the man with the yellow eyes.

  “Alex,” Constanzia said emphatically, “Sergio has caused enough grief and sorrow. I wish that I had the courage to stab a kitchen knife through his cold heart, but I’m too much of a coward for that. I want someone to put an end to his crimes. I want revenge for my dead son and for everything that this monster has done to me and my family.”

  She leaned forward and grabbed Alex’s hand.

  “I have an ally,” she said, lowering her voice, “but he and I won’t be able to do it on our own, although we could destroy Sergio with our knowledge. I need contact with someone who is powerful and fearless enough to support me with what I must do. I can’t simply go to the police or the US Attorney’s Office. Sergio would find out about it right away and have me silenced.”

  She paused for a moment.

  “Alex, you know the right people. You know the mayor. You can help me!”

  Alex jumped up and desperately wrapped her arms around herself. Of all people, Constanzia Vitali had come to her for help! She felt miserable. If Sergio hadn’t even batted an eye at the murder of his own son, he certainly wouldn’t hesitate to kill her. What had she gotten herself into? And all of this because of her damned ambition, her arrogance, her insatiable drive to belong in high society. She was a gangster’s whore, just what Oliver had accused her of being. All her work, her education—everything had been in vain! At thirty-seven, when others were getting their careers in high gear, her future was already over. She’d never be safe from Sergio again. Fear sprang to her eyes, and she turned around to face Constanzia Vitali. And somehow the woman was looking at her, full of hope.

  “I’m afraid that I can’t help you, Mrs. Vitali,” she said, struggling to keep her composure. She thought about Nick’s words. A few months ago, I would have been happy to hear that. Now I just don’t care anymore. That won’t bring my family back to life.

  No, she wouldn’t be able to help either.

  Constanzia stood up.

  “I don’t mean to pressure you.” She rummaged around in her purse until she found what she was looking for. “This is my phone number. You can reach me at any time.”

  Once Sergio’s wife left, Alex sank down to the ground, sobbing and burying her face in her hands. The bitter truth was that she had irrevocably botched her future. Her entire life was ruined.

  Sergio stood silently in the penthouse apartment where Alex used to live. She had moved out. The closets were empty, the refrigerator was unplugged, and all of her books and CDs were gone. Sergio felt his insides contract as a wave of disappointment rolled through him; he couldn’t deny how skillfully she had deceived him. She had been acting for the past few days, and he—being somewhat serious with his marriage proposal—had let her lead him by his nose like a little boy. It was an ironic twist of fate that Alex had left him on the same day as Constanzia. He had been so close to trusting her, and now this! This rejection was too humiliating, and at the same time he was overcome with a feeling of emptiness that was foreign and threatening to him.

  His first impulse was to call her, but then his reason took hold. He breathed heavily and closed his eyes for a moment. Alex hadn’t gone to the Downeys last Sunday. Natale was right: She had met that bastard Kostidis at the cemetery in Brooklyn. She was the one who saved him. Of all people, it was because of Alex that this miserable son of a bitch was still alive.

  “What should we do now, boss?” Luca asked.

  “Nothing,” said Sergio, unaffected on the surface. “Remove the microphones and cameras and renovate the apartment. And give me her passport. I’ll return it to her personally.”

  He clenched his hands into fists. His disappointment had turned into cold rage.

  It was eight fifteen when Frank Cohen entered his boss’s office. Nick Kostidis was behind his desk, staring at a framed picture of his deceased wife, as he had done so many times recently.

  “I thought you left already,” Nick said.

  “I revised the press release for the planned welfare reform again,” Frank replied, “and jotted down a couple of arguments that could be helpful for your meeting with Paul Inishan of the Coalition for the Homeless.”

  “Ah, yes.” Nick removed his reading glasses and rubbed his tired eyes. “I’ll go over it tomorrow morning.”

  “Yes, of course.”

  “What’s on my schedule for tomorrow?”

  “Paul Inishan at nine. Coalition for the Homeless complained about your planned work program. After that, the delegation from Oman from ten until about one. Then you have a meeting with Lucie McMillan of WCBS, who will accompany you to Fresh Kills, broadcast live. You have an appointment in Queens at three to see the new orphanage. Then, there’s the ceremony honoring those firefighters who rescued the kids from that burning house in Morningside Heights last August—at five.”

  Frank looked at his boss. Nick appeared exhausted, but it was no wonder. Since his family’s funeral, he’d recklessly thrown himself into his work. He had one appointment after another, from early morning until late at night. Nick rushed through the city, escorted by the police and security guards, and some staff members started complaining that the mayor forgot some people had lives outside of work. Frank wondered how much longer Nick could sustain this tempo. He’d created set an inhuman pace, but there was no one to slow him down. Frank had a feeling that Nick was doing this to escape his loneliness and his thoughts. He seemed just like his old self on the outside. But whenever he found himself alone, he virtually collapsed. On more than one occasion, Frank had caught him staring aimlessly into space or at his wife’s picture.

  “Have you thought about what Alex Sontheim told us?” Frank asked carefully.

  “I can’t think of anything else,” Nick admitted. “Every day when I speak with these people, I realize how phony and devious they are. It may very well be that corruption has always been the order of the day in New York, but I just can’t believe that even the police commissioner and the US attorney let themselves be bought by a criminal like Vitali.”

  “Maybe we can actually do something about it,” Frank said. “How much of this story is true in your opinion?”

  “Probably all of it. Why should she make such things up?”

  “Then we shouldn’t hesitate any longer. We could pass on that information to the US Attorney’s Office.” Frank sat down at the desk across from Nick. “You finally have the opportunity to hold Vitali accountable for everything he has done!”

  “Frank, I’ve told you before,” Nick answered with unusual patience. “My family had to die because I chased after Vitali like a maniac. With his latest
attempt, he made it very clear that he still intends to kill me. He’s dead serious. I won’t risk the life of the woman who saved me.”

  “Alex Sontheim knows exactly what she’s doing. She gave you this information so you’d something with it.”

  “Damn it!” Nick’s voice turned harsh. “I take sleeping pills every night so I can sleep for at least a few hours. I immerse myself in my work to distract myself from these terrible images. My heart is filled with anger and lust for revenge. How could I possibly burden my conscience with even more guilt? Do you think that Vitali would hesitate to kill Alex once he found out what she knows?”

  “She was, or still is, his lover after all,” Frank replied. “Can we even be sure she was honest with us?”

  Nick took a deep breath.

  “I’ve considered that. But somehow I think she’s being honest. Why else would she come to meet me at the cemetery? Why would she risk her life to save mine? That shot could have easily hit her!”

  “Maybe it’s all part of a plan so you believe exactly that.”

  “You’re distrustful, Frank.”

  “I’ve learned that from you, Nick.” Frank smiled mildly. “It was you who always questioned everything a hundred times before you believed it. And often enough you were right.”

  “Yes,” Nick sighed bleakly, “I’ve always been proud of my knowledge of human nature, but it apparently leaves much to be desired. I never thought Ray capable of such betrayal.”

  “We should talk to Alex again,” Frank suggested, “and ask her for documented evidence.”

  “Yes, maybe.” Nick leaned back. Frank Cohen knew his boss well enough to know he didn’t want to delve into this any deeper. Before leaving, he turned around one more time.

  “Oh, Nick?”

  “What else is there?”

  “Have you eaten anything today?”

  Nick smiled briefly, and then he nodded.

  “I think I had a doughnut for breakfast. Go on, get out of here. Good night.”

  “Good night, boss. See you tomorrow.”

  Nick waited as his assistant closed the door behind him. Then he opened his desk drawer and took out an old issue of People. He flipped to the story about Alex Sontheim and stared at the large photograph of her. With a pensive smile on his face, he thought about that morning on Montauk Beach when he saw her galloping on that horse. He was suddenly sure that she had been honest with him.

  On Tuesday afternoon, Alex had a meeting with Vincent Levy, Michael Friedman, and Hugh Weinberg. The three men were excited about the deal she was working on, in which LMI was to represent Whithers, the computer manufacturer from Texas, in its merger with Database Inc., earning a handsome fee for its services. The deal was as good as closed. The details would be ironed out over the next few weeks, followed by several meetings with the management teams from Whithers and Database.

  Alex stared vacantly at her computer screen after she got back to her desk. She had spoken with Carter Ringwood at First Boston on the phone right before the meeting, and what she told him was a serious violation of securities law. If Levy found out what she had done, he wouldn’t just fire her, he’d sue her in court—and rightfully so. Alex had learned that First Boston represented Softland Corporation, a competitor of Whithers. Softland was just as interested in Database as Whithers was. She mentioned in passing how much her offer was worth. Alex sighed and rested her chin in her hand. The deal would blow up for sure because Ringwood would certainly use her information to the advantage of his client. Alex didn’t care. She was already planning to quit LMI this month and leave the city. She could go to Chicago, San Francisco, Europe, Asia. M&A specialists were in demand everywhere. Alex grinned bitterly as she thought about what was happening right now a few stories above her. Without a doubt, Levy was informing his managing director about the planned Whithers deal, and it was just as certain that Zack was building a position in Whithers stock. She expected that the imminent public announcement of the Database acquisition would catapult Whithers stock to new heights. What a pity for Zack if a white knight called Softland Corporation unexpectedly appeared out of nowhere on the merger battlefield! Alex’s thoughts were elsewhere when her phone buzzed.

  “Hello, Alex. This is Nick.”

  “Nick!” she exclaimed in surprise, her heart pounding. “How are you? I thought that something had happened because you didn’t call.”

  “Oh no! I’m sorry. I’ve been very busy the past few days. I was also thinking about things.”

  “Aha.”

  He hesitated for a moment.

  “Do you have time for dinner tonight?”

  Alex swallowed. She had no plans.

  “I’d love to,” she said. “When and where?”

  “There’s a small Greek restaurant in an alley near the corner of Chambers Street and Hudson in Tribeca. It’s called Alexis Sorbas. It’s practically hidden. I’ll see you at nine?”

  “I’ll find it,” Alex replied.

  She hung up and chewed pensively on her lower lip. Had Nick changed his mind? His voice sounded almost as determined as before the tragedy, but Alex no longer felt the urge to convince him. He had won her deep respect after the vulnerability he’d shown her at the cemetery. Sergio wouldn’t hesitate a second if someone offered him information like this. He’d have precious little interest whether a life was put in danger, as long as he gained an advantage. Nick let go of his desire for revenge because he was worried about her safety. She found that simply incredible.

  Someone knocked on the door, and Mark entered the room.

  “I just received the quarterly results of Database,” he announced. “Do you want to take a look at them?”

  “Later. Thanks.”

  Mark put the folder on her desk. He was about to leave again when Alex asked him to stay.

  “Sit down for a moment, please,” she said. Mark did as he was told. He had become a very good friend over the past few months.

  “I’m going to meet Mayor Kostidis this evening,” she said.

  “Aha.”

  “Ever since our trip to Boston, I’ve been thinking,” Alex continued, not mentioning to Mark what she had already told the mayor. “I’ve come to the conclusion that I should tell him everything and give him the documents Justin printed out for us.”

  “Are you sure that’s a good idea?”

  “I don’t know,” Alex sighed, “but I can’t go on like this. I know enough about Vitali to be seriously frightened of him. This man is capable of anything.”

  Suddenly, she had to fight her rising tears.

  “Mark, I’m in deeper than you can imagine. This is no longer about right and wrong, or a betrayal of trust—it’s about my life!” She bit her lip. “If Vitali finds out what I know, I’m as good as dead! He had Gilbert Shanahan killed because he wanted to get out, too.”

  “My God,” Mark whispered in terror, “did you tell Oliver?”

  “He suspected it the whole time,” Alex replied in resignation. “He insinuated it when we first met at Battery Park. I should have believed him and left LMI.”

  Her office, guarded by thick glass panels that muted any noise from the trading floor, was silent.

  “I’m resigning,” Alex said. “That’s actually what I wanted to tell you. I want to thank you for all of your hard work, and especially for your loyalty. I could always trust you.”

  “It was my pleasure.” A sad smile flitted across Mark’s face. “You’re definitely the best boss I’ve ever had. If you’re looking for an assistant at your new job, let me know.”

  Alex attempted a smile, then she wondered whether she should tell Mark about her conversation with Carter Ringwood. He deserved to know the truth because he had worked as hard on the Whithers deal as she had. She pulled herself together and told him what she had done.

  Mark didn’t seem shocked. “I hope you know what you’re doing. If this comes out, then you’re done.”

  Alex nodded. “I’m not sure if I did the right thing.”


  “You’re going to blow up the deal in order to pull one over on Vitali, Levy, and St. John, right?”

  Alex nodded again. Then Mark leaned across the desk and grabbed her hand.

  “No matter what happens, Alex, I’m on your side. I also think that I’ve spent enough time in this joint. Maybe I’ll quit, too.”

  “Don’t make any rash decisions. I’m in deep trouble, but you’re not. You still have a future.”

  “There probably won’t be any M&A department left.” He smiled and stood up. “I’ve somehow already gotten used to the idea.”

  After he left her office, Alex closed her eyes and sighed. There was nothing left of her ambition, and she suddenly longed for an average life, with a small family, a nice house with a yard, and someone who loved her.

  Alex left her apartment through one of the back exits. Her blonde hair was hidden under a baseball cap. She was wearing a worn-out leather jacket, blue jeans, and heavy Doc Martens. She was unrecognizable.

  Alex walked past the Dumpsters in the courtyard and entered the neighboring building. She and Oliver had identified all of the possible escape routes when she moved in, and she used them to remain undetected by Sergio’s people. She had already noticed people waiting for her and tailing her from the LMI Building, and she recognized most of them. Perhaps Sergio hadn’t yet found out where she lived.

  Alex turned onto the lively Greenwich Street with its row of restaurants. New businesses were opening on an almost daily basis ever since an affluent crowd discovered this part of the city. It was just before nine, and the sidewalks were still filled with people. Indian summer had been unusually warm this year, and the bars set their tables and chairs on the sidewalks.