Brian Sadler Archaeology 01 - The Bethlehem Scroll

by Bill Thompson

  Darius and Brian’s personal friendship blossomed. Although there was a thirty-year age difference they bonded immediately and regularly had dinners together. Darius became Brian’s mentor in business but also in his personal life.

  Nicole, the primary focus of Brian’s life away from work, had come to New York at least once a month since he moved from Dallas. Her hectic schedule, combined with his travel around the world, made it difficult to get together very often. Darius had met Nicole several times. He joined the couple for drinks or dinner every time she came.

  Learning how much she meant to him, Darius insisted that the firm pay for first class tickets for the trips she made to New York. “It’s important for your well-being. Think nothing of it. Besides, you’re a shareholder. Forty percent of that ticket price comes from your share of Bijan.”

  Brian absorbed everything Darius could teach him. The older man told him how good he was becoming at every aspect of the gallery’s operations. “I’m confident if I were to retire this moment you could carry on Bijan’s work with not a single interruption.”

  One evening the talk turned to Nicole. “It’s none of my business, so feel free to tell this meddling old man to shut up. What discussions have you two had regarding the future?”

  Brian explained that things were a little strained, as could be expected when two people saw each other occasionally and lived two thousand miles apart.

  “She told me we should date other people, and we’re pretty open about discussing that. Only trouble is, I have to make up the ones I’m dating but I’m certain she’s really doing it.”

  Darius asked him if he wanted to consider opening a gallery in Dallas.

  Brian was amazed and flattered that he would suggest such a move. But he dismissed the idea. “I love New York and I want to work here with you. Dallas could never be the same for me.”

  “If you are truly in love, and I think you are, then you should let nothing stop your quest to win her heart.”

  Brian finally told Darius that he agreed he probably was in love with Nicole, but until they could find long stretches of time to spend together there was no way either of them could know for sure. “And I’m not even certain how she feels,” he admitted.

  Darius said, “I believe in fate. If your love is meant to be, something will happen to allow it.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  One day in December John Spedino called. The gallery was adorned with beautiful golden Christmas decorations and Fifth Avenue was crowded with shoppers and tourists. A few blocks to the south, the windows of Saks portrayed animated scenes of Christmas past while across the street the Rockefeller Center Christmas tree was ablaze in lights as ice skaters glided around the frozen rink below it.

  Darius had left the store early to pick up some presents in anticipation of his trip to California in a couple of weeks. He was spending the holiday with his children, both of whom had adopted the Christian religion after marriage, and their families. Brian was in the office working on paperwork when Collette buzzed him.

  “John Spedino’s on line two for you.”

  Brian hadn’t heard a word from Spedino since the auction last May. Spedino explained that he had a job for Brian. “I want to acquire some artifacts and I want Bijan Rarities to act as my agent on the deal.” He refused to say more on the phone and requested a meeting soon.

  Brian agreed that he and Darius would meet Spedino. The godfather said no.

  “This has nothing to do with Darius Nazir. I want you to say nothing to him about this until I give you approval to do so. Is that clear?”

  Brian agreed without hesitation. They would meet in the King Cole Bar at the St. Regis Hotel the next day.

  Afterwards, Brian felt ashamed for having so easily agreed to keep a secret from his partner, who couldn’t have been more open with him. He was flattered that a powerful man like Spedino entrusted a confidence to him, but he promised himself he’d inform Darius about everything after the meeting.

  Brian arrived right on time but Spedino was twenty minutes late. He said, “I don’t have a lot of time. I’m going to give you some information and I want you to get back to me as soon as you have worked out the details.”

  A waiter stopped by their table. They both ordered coffees, and Spedino started talking.

  “Have you heard that a scroll was found a couple of years ago, rumored to be a complete account of the visit by shepherds to the inn on the night Jesus was born? And that two other relics accompany it? Apparently one’s a scrap of parchment identifying a coin that a shepherd boy presented to Jesus in the manger, which He held in His hand. The other object is the coin itself.”

  Brian’s stunned told the godfather this was news to him.

  “I’m not surprised you haven’t heard it,” he said. “I think your boss has heard a few rumors but he probably doesn’t know as much as I just told you.”

  “How do you know about this?”

  “This isn’t a question-and-answer session. I’m going to tell you what you need to know. So listen.”

  John Spedino had confirmed that the relics did in fact exist. He wanted to acquire the objects and present them to the Vatican so they could be exhibited in the holiest place in Christendom.

  “Call it an atonement for my sins. I’m Catholic and I’ve done things in my life like everyone else. This is my payback.”

  Brian’s head shot up. “Why did you use that word – payback? What’s…”

  Spedino interrupted. “Your job here is to listen, not to talk. Why did I use the word ‘payback’? What the hell kind of question is that? I use words all day long. So do you. Get over it. I want Bijan to acquire the relics and then sell them to me. And if your first question is why, then don’t waste your breath asking. I have my reasons and your gallery will benefit from the transaction. The publicity will be even greater on this one than on the Egyptian sale. There’s a huge fee for Bijan with no risk.”

  Spedino told Brian there were several loose ends to tie up, including determining how much money it would ultimately take to buy the relics. Brian asked if he had a guess.

  “I think possibly twenty-five million.”

  Brian looked at him blankly. “How could Bijan ever swing a deal like that? The gallery doesn’t have that much money.”

  “Oh, but you will. I’m going to put you in contact with a friend of mine who has Israeli government-issued bonds for rent. They’re used to prop up balance sheets so companies can make deals like this.”

  He told Brian that the plan was that Bijan would never actually put out any cash. The entire transaction would happen very quickly – in a matter of days. A bank would issue a letter of credit for say $25 million, based on Bijan’s balance sheet that suddenly is improved by $25 million in Israeli bonds. The letter of credit allows Bijan to buy the relics and pay for them immediately. Bijan then has time to flip the relics before having to come up with the cash to pay for them.

  “When you sell to me at a guaranteed profit Bijan then pays for the relics, cancels the letter of credit, returns the borrowed Israeli bonds and pockets a fee of two million dollars. It’s all cut and dried. Nothing can go wrong. And I’m even paying the rental fee for the bonds.”

  “I’ll need to talk to Darius. This is a complicated deal and I need him to fully understand it. I’ll also have to get a lot more information about all this. Renting bonds to prop up your balance sheet sounds risky and I don’t have the authority…”

  Spedino interrupted again. “You’re wrong. In fact, you won’t be talking to Darius. This is strictly between you and me. It’ll be over and done with before Darius hears about it and you’ll be the hero of the day at Bijan Rarities.”

  “Not only is Darius the majority shareholder, we’re also a public company. There’s no way I can get by with rented assets on my balance sheet, and no bank will loan money against them without asking how we got them in the first place.”

  The godfather laughed. “Lighten up. I’ve done this befor
e, more than once. It works perfectly and here’s how. Bijan has to make quarterly reports to the SEC. All that matters to a public company is what’s on its books on the last day of the quarter. Anything that happens between day one and day eighty-nine makes no difference at all. The public never sees it.

  “This transaction will take place during a quarter, not over the end of a quarter. These bonds will be on and off the books before you file your quarterly report with the SEC. As to the bank, that’s all handled. You’re going to borrow the money from First InterCity Bank. They’ll be happy to serve a new client of your caliber. And one of the loan officers there owes me a favor. Just relax. I’ve covered everything and you’re going to do this for me. End of story.”

  “I’m not saying yes…”

  Spedino smiled. Not a friendly smile. Cruel, scary somehow. Regardless, Brian wasn’t sure. This was a crazy deal. Maybe even illegal – he had no idea about that.

  Spedino said that this transaction would be code named “The Project” and that someone would call soon to discuss the transfer of the bonds. He stood, handed Brian a card with his phone number on it, and left.

  Thoughts raced through Brian’s head. I never agreed to this. But this guy says it’s a done deal anyway. He didn’t feel right keeping this from Darius, although the way Spedino laid it out the whole thing really did seem foolproof. Moreover, when it was done Darius would see that Brian truly did have the capacity to make decisions on his own – to do what was best for the firm.

  His mind full of doubt, he noticed his hands shaking. On the surface John Spedino seemed like a cultured, sophisticated businessman. But Brian knew what he really was and that people like Spedino could never be trusted. With that kind of guy things are never as they seem.

  He ordered a martini, giving himself a few minutes to think this through. Ever the optimist, Brian Sadler began to formulate a plan. With some planning he could make certain nothing went wrong on this deal. He could also tell Darius just enough so that he wasn’t betraying him.

  Chapter Fourteen

  A week later Brian sat in the Grill Room of the Four Seasons Restaurant at 52nd and Park, having lunch with Chaim Weisenberg. The man had set up the lunch to discuss the short-term transfer of Israeli bonds to Bijan.

  Weisenberg wore a yarmulke and a black suit, and appeared to be in his forties. Pleasantries out of the way, Brian asked who had given Weisenberg his name.

  “Actually I get a lot of second-hand introductions. I’m not certain, but I think it was from a friend of mine at First InterCity Bank.”

  “And not from John Spedino?”

  Weisenberg raised his eyebrows. “John Spedino, the Mafia boss? Do you know him?”

  Brian replied that Spedino was an occasional customer of the gallery and an acquaintance.

  Without further response Weisenberg launched into an explanation of the bond loan. The instruments were bearer bonds – they belonged to whoever had possession of them. The owner, a European company, allowed short-term rental of its assets to make a significantly higher return on the bonds than interest alone would have garnered.

  “Here’s how it works. You’ll pay a commitment fee of half a percent of the face value up front and the bonds will be transferred to you on paper. Physically they will remain in the vault of a major British bank but any lender, CPA or auditing firm who wants to verify their existence may do so by contacting the bank.”

  He explained that the bonds would pass muster as an asset for any company because in reality they were exactly what they were supposed to be – authentic bearer bonds issued by the Government of Israel, in the amount of twenty-five million dollars. The only hitch was that they were temporary assets – on a company’s books for the short period during which the company needed a hike in assets for a particular project. They never really belonged to the company using them since they were merely borrowed.

  Once the project was over the transfer agreement was cancelled, another fee of half a percent was paid, and the parties went their own ways.

  “In your case, you’ll have borrowed $25 million in assets for a sufficient time to do whatever it is you need them for. You’ll have paid $250,000 for the loan and presumably made much more than that on the deal you consummated.”

  Since Spedino had agreed to pay all fees Bijan itself would pay nothing. No risk, just like the godfather had said.

  “I’ll need to get an attorney to review the documents. When can I get them?”

  “I have a sample set here for you,” Weisenberg said, handing a thick manila envelope across the table. “But you can save yourself some money. There’s a letter inside on the letterhead of Maurins and Catchpole, one of Britain’s largest law firms. The letter confirms the validity of the transaction and certifies that the bonds are in existence as stated. That’s all the verification you should need.”

  As they dined Brian asked Weisenberg what sort of business he was in. The man said he was a facilitator for the party who owned the bonds. He received a fee for deals he closed.

  “Will these bonds pass a certified audit by an accounting firm if they’re on my books?”

  “A yearend certified audit? I wouldn’t do that. In reality you’ll never have them that long. This is what you have to keep in mind – you’re borrowing these bonds for a very short period of time. That will be clear to anyone reviewing your books since you didn’t actually have $25 million on hand to pay for them. The transaction is perfectly legitimate. It just needs to be on and off your books as expeditiously as possible. And definitely during a calendar quarter – not over the end of one.”

  They left it that Weisenberg would be in touch in a week or so. As Brian walked back to the gallery he realized he had no way to contact the man himself. No business card, no phone number, nothing.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Brian left a voicemail for Nicole to call so he could go over the Israeli bond deal. Collette copied the documents Chaim Weisenberg had given him. He added a cover letter and overnighted them to Nicole.

  He didn’t hear from her that night, although he checked his cell phone every hour or so to make sure he hadn’t missed the call. He knew she had a deposition – it must have run overtime. His mind began to wander; what if the client had taken her to dinner or maybe they were working late at her office?

  He had to force himself to concentrate on something besides her. He got Chinese food delivered at ten pm and finally went to bed, wondering why Nicole was so busy she couldn’t return his call.

  The next morning when he checked his cell and office phones. No messages, no voicemails. Around noon he couldn’t wait any longer. He called her again.

  Nicole’s assistant said, “She’s not in yet. She’s pretty tied up with this deposition and I think she and the client were huddled up somewhere last night working on strategies. It’s a big case.”

  Brian wanted to ask who the client was, but what did it really matter?

  “OK,” he said as cheerfully as he could. “It’s nothing, really. I Fedexed a package yesterday. Just ask her to call when she takes a look at it.”

  Ryan confirmed that the package was there and promised he’d give it to her first thing.

  Darius returned from a trip to Chicago the evening before. Today he and Brian met for an hour so Brian could hear the latest on a deal to sell an Etruscan vase to the Field Museum. Darius was excited about this opportunity, citing the positive press that resulted from Bijan’s sales to major museums.

  Darius asked if anything eventful had happened while he was out and Brian told him about the revelation from John Spedino that there were three relics that could be acquired. He kept to himself the Israeli bonds and that Bijan might briefly become the owner of the items. He rationalized that he didn’t fully understand the transaction himself, so now wasn’t the time to explain it to his partner. But he also knew he was consciously withholding important information.

  Darius reacted differently than Brian had expected. His eyes darkened and narrow
ed and for the first time ever he raised his voice at Brian.

  “Do you know who John Spedino is? Do you know how dangerous it is to even talk to a man like John Spedino?”

  Brian stammered a response. “I’m not saying we’re going to be partners with the guy. I’m saying he’s got a legitimate deal for us to be part of, that’ll give us more press than the Inkharaton deal ever did.”

  “I absolutely forbid you from talking to John Spedino again!” The man’s voice cracked as he continued. “Promise me you’ll stay away from him. He’s dangerous. You need to start fresh with Bijan. Don’t play with fire.”

  Without another word he walked out of Brian’s office.

  Brian could hardly believe what he’d just seen. He knew Darius had done deals that, to put it mildly, wouldn’t pass a close inspection. Darius had told him about artifacts from questionable backgrounds, things he thought might have been stolen, but he bought them anyway because on the surface things looked OK. Brian also knew John Spedino received an invitation to the auction. That could only have come from Darius Nazir himself.

  What was going on? What about Brian’s conversation with the godfather made his partner so upset?

  Darius often told Brian to rely on his gut. He wanted this deal to work and his gut was telling him to go for it. He had to prove to Darius that he could perform on his own. And he would.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Darius Nazir was furious. He left Brian’s office and stormed out of the gallery. He went a couple of blocks to the Peninsula Hotel and sat at a table in the lobby. He made a call on his cell phone. John Spedino answered.

  “What in hell do you think you’re doing, involving my new man in one of your projects?” Darius hissed. “It’s bad enough I’m involved with you. Now you’re pulling Brian into your deals too!”