Swimming with Sharks (24 page)

Alex spent the next day in Baltimore trying to appease the management of Blue Steel. The PBA stock price had leveled off again at around eighteen and a half. This was probably due to her phone call to Rudensky, who had told his clients that she had pricked up her ears. So as not to ruin the deal completely, they had let go of their positions and the market calmed down.

Alex was completely exhausted when she arrived at her apartment that evening. She opened a bottle of Coors and walked out on the terrace. She called Mark on her cell phone in case Sergio had the land line tapped.

Time had passed since that incident with Sergio, and things had cooled off between them. She’d been extremely busy with work, and so had he.

Mark picked up after the second ring. Zack hadn’t been seen in his department or on the trading floor that day. Furthermore, Mark hadn’t been able to reach Oliver—who was still in Europe and wouldn’t be back in the city until the beginning of July.

Alex sincerely hoped that Zack was behind this all by himself. He surely had the means to pull off such an operation. He had many friends and informers in the world of big finance. On top of that, she knew that there were no limits to Zack’s greed for cash and his craving for recognition. But would he really risk betraying Levy, as well as Sergio?

The ringing of the telephone interrupted into her thoughts. The clock showed a few minutes after eleven. Just before the answering machine clicked on, Alex answered.

“Hello,
cara
.” It was Sergio, as if he knew that she was thinking about him. “How are you?”

“Not so good,” she replied. “I had a terrible day. I’ve probably lost a deal that I thought was wrapped up.”

“What kind of deal?” he asked. Was he pretending, or did he really not know about it? Alex realized that she didn’t trust him at all anymore.

“Blue Steel and PBA Steel,” she said. “Everything was all worked out, and I even told Levy about it. But yesterday, the price of PBA more than doubled in no time. I was in Baltimore all day, but I didn’t know what else to tell these Blue Steel people. And on top of it, I’m afraid that the SEC will get involved. It looks like we tried to drive up the price in order to earn higher fees!”

“Don’t worry about the SEC.”

Alex straightened up in her chair.

“What do you mean? The SEC has initiated investigations on much less before.”

“I mean it just like I said. Forget the SEC.”

Forget the SEC!
She would have loved to ask him directly about SeaStarFriends, but his involvement in MPM was just speculation at this point. Sergio wasn’t a banker, but he knew enough about business to fear the Securities and Exchange Commission, which monitored the trading of all securities. Especially if he knew that MPM and LMI were trading on insider information. Was his carelessness an indication of his naiveté or
the exact opposite? Since her conversation with Nick Kostidis on Christmas at the Downeys’ house, she’d thought about him many times. To her annoyance, she realized that she was listening for revealing undertones in every one of Sergio’s words. She hadn’t seen Kostidis since then, but she still owed her nagging guilty conscience to him—which she could have done without. She was relieved that Sergio was still in Chicago. When he said good-bye after fifteen minutes and said he’d get in touch when he was back in the city, it sounded almost like a threat.

Sergio had been in Las Vegas for the past three days and was extremely satisfied with the deal he had finally closed after long and tenacious negotiations. In addition to the Gold Nugget, the Pyramid, and the Southern Cross, he now also owned the fourth-largest luxury hotel on the Las Vegas Strip: the Venice. The negotiations had been tough, but Angelo Canaletti—the last offspring of the once important Canaletti family from New York, which had relocated to the West in the 1960s—lacked any sense for business. He had gotten too comfortable with his excessive lifestyle. He’d run the gold mine of the Meridian, with its six hundred beds and enormous casino, completely into the ground with his disastrous management. He was in deep because he owed millions of dollars to the IRS. This purchase was a bargain for Sergio; it just required some patience. After finishing the contract, he finally cemented his position of dominance in Las Vegas. Profits from the casinos were sizable and crisis-proof sources of income.

However, his meeting in Vegas with Jorge Alvarez Ortega had been much more important. Ortega had become the undisputed number one of the powerful Colombian drug cartel in Medellín after the violent death of Emilio Arqueros a few months prior. The negotiations with Ortega concerned the import of cocaine to the US. Due to Sergio’s newly
consolidated influence at the Brooklyn port, he was the only person who could guarantee Ortega a risk-free import of drugs from Colombia. The old routes via Florida or Mexico were too risky, and many couriers had been busted. But Sergio’s people knew how to smuggle illegal drugs directly into New York in front of the customs agents and the police without any problems.

Sergio demanded thirty percent of the revenues for his services; Ortega only offered him fifteen. The negotiations with the Colombian dragged on through the entire night and seriously put Sergio’s patience to the test. They wined and dined like kings, and Franco Cavalese—Sergio’s man in Vegas—brought in the prettiest girls in town. With a mixture of contempt and amusement, Sergio watched the eyes of this South American peasant Ortega pop when he saw them. At three in the morning, the man disappeared into his suite with three very young blondes.

He and Sergio hadn’t come an inch closer in their negotiations. Sergio left the hotel at three thirty in the morning and had a limousine take him to the airport. He didn’t need to wait for this peasant! If Ortega wanted something from him, he would have to come to New York. To show that Sergio was serious about his thirty percent share, he would blow cover on the next delivery from Colombia.

When he arrived in Chicago, Sergio had received a message from Levy that St. John’s reckless behavior threatened to trigger an investigation by the SEC against LMI and MPM. It was a bad situation, but Sergio had managed to control the damage with a few phone calls.

The fact that Alex now seemed suspicious was far more serious to him. Zack had Jack Lang from MPM and Rudensky go overboard buying the stock of a company that LMI intended to represent in a takeover. Zack usually acted on his knowledge more prudently, but this time he had made a mistake. Sergio urgently needed to speak to Alex and check whether she had noticed anything. After their conversation, he was overcome with a wild longing for her. She had never mentioned another
word about his uncontrolled violation of last October and behaved normally toward him. Sergio was sure that she had forgiven him for his faux pas.

Despite Nelson’s warning on Cinnamon Island, Sergio kept thinking about getting divorced from Constanzia. His biggest wish was to have Alex at his side day and night. His surveillance and monitoring of her telephone calls and e-mails turned up nothing. Alex went to work, came home, and met him occasionally. If Alex went out, then it was to after-work parties with her colleagues or a visit to the Downeys—with whom she’d spent a weekend on Long Island. There was no other man in her life besides him. Sergio poured himself a whiskey and contemplated whether he should skip his appointment in the morning. He longed for Alex with every fiber of his being, and at the same time he was mad at himself for being so obsessed with her. His anger at Ortega and St. John had caused him unbearable tension, and he desperately needed to let off some steam. After a third whiskey, he ordered a call girl to his room. The girl was young, blonde, and gorgeous, but Sergio suddenly thought about Alex. And although the little whore gave it her best effort, Sergio was horrified to realize that he couldn’t get it up. Feeling terribly humiliated, he angrily sent the girl away. At that moment, he hated Alex with all his heart. She was to blame for his failure. She had jinxed him.

On Tuesday, June 14, 2000, US Customs caught a very big fish at the Brooklyn port. The customs agents had received an anonymous tip early in the morning to take a closer look at the Panamanian freighter
Cabo de la Nao,
which was coming from Costa Rica with a cargo of coffee beans. Sure enough, they found more than two hundred kilos of pure cocaine with a street value of several million dollars. The drugs, originating from Colombia, were sealed in plastic bags hidden in the coffee. The captain
and the crew of the
Cabo de la Nao
were arrested on the spot and taken away for questioning; the entire shipment was seized. Time and again, customs and drug enforcement agents seized narcotics at the city’s port or airports, but usually they only found a few grams or kilos. This discovery was surely one of the biggest in United States history.

Naturally, every news channel focused on coverage of the cocaine bust in Brooklyn. Mayor Kostidis proudly announced this significant blow to organized crime in New York. Sergio laughed disdainfully and turned away from the television.

“Excellent,” he said to Massimo, Nelson, Luca, and Silvio, who were all watching the news with him at his apartment on Park Avenue, “this will force Ortega to give in.”

“Or there will be war,” Nelson said.

“Ortega can’t afford that. He needs our connections at the port in order to bring such large shipments into the country. And he’s certainly dependent on the North American market.” Sergio shook his head and once again watched the mayor’s grim face on the screen. “This idiot really believes that his cops pulled this off all by themselves.”

“Maybe you should talk to Ortega again,” Nelson said. “Now he’ll—”

“Nelson!” Sergio looked at his friend in astonishment. “What’s going on with you? You don’t sound like the Nelson I know!”

“The idea of you starting a war with the Colombians makes me a little uneasy. They’re dangerous.”

“It sounds like you’re getting scared in your old age.” Sergio grinned.

“Call it what you want,” Nelson responded, “but I’m not interested in an armed conflict with these people.”

“It’ll be all right.” Sergio turned the television off impatiently and stood up. “Ortega will contact us. And then we’ll negotiate.”

“I hope you’re right.”

“Ortega is a businessman, Nelson,” Sergio replied. “Going after us would claim too many victims and cost too much money.”

At eight thirty, Alex turned the computer off and straightened up her desk. She was the last one in the building besides the guards on duty. She and Mark still hadn’t uncovered any more information about the mysterious partnership called SeaStarFriends. The price of PBA had stabilized after the SEC got involved. But it was strange that the investigation had been called off after just two days. All of the events surrounding PBA were more than mysterious, but the deal with Blue Steel would go through in the coming weeks. Alex was just about to leave her office when the external line rang. She hesitated briefly, but then she picked up the phone.

“Alex Sontheim,” she answered.

“Hello, Alex, I was still hoping to reach you at the office.” The voice was unmistakable.

“Hello, Nick.” She sat down again. “You’re lucky. I was just about to leave. How are you?”

“I’m fine, thank you,” the mayor replied. “How’s business?”

“I can’t complain.”

Why was he calling her? How did he get her extension?

“I just heard that you declined your invitation to the awards ceremony for the outstanding citizens of our city,” Kostidis said. “I wanted to find out why.”

Alex had received a letter from the mayor’s office a few weeks ago, informing her that the City of New York wanted to honor her for her courageous rescue of Madeleine last year. Together with other extraordinary citizens, she was to be honored during a ceremony at city hall. Alex couldn’t attend, so she had her secretary call to send her regrets.

“Don’t tell me that you personally call everyone who cancels,” she answered quizzically.

“No,” he said with a laugh. “Definitely not. But then again, very few people ever cancel.”