TS 3 Chapter 7

Chapter 7

Guntram de Lisle's diary

June 19^th, 2014

My father has a funny sense of humor and I'm saying that just because I don't want to strangle him.

On the other hand, I'm sure that Gandini sent “my godfather” so I don't kill him right away. Fefo says that I have a very bad temper and that I snap at everyone, including a poor soul like he. “Guti, you terrified those poor hippies. They're only ecologists; there was no need to threat them with bankruptcy, property seizure and the seven-year embargo or whatever it's called in Germany. They only wanted to make a point.” 

Right. Make a point by striking on me. As if I didn't have enough trouble. 

Well, Gandini sent Michel and he told me.

“Do you want the good or the bad news first?” 

“Spit it out,” I replied as I had a meeting with another asshole in about ten minutes. Constantin's management ideas weren't such a bad thing. A 45 and people work diligently. I misjudged the man. 

“My child, you are on the brink of a nervous breakdown. Slow down and relax a bit. The companies are doing fine. Nothing is broken so far.” 

That's a matter of opinion. We aren't making enough money and people are lazy and whinny. Their conditions are fantastic and yet they complain. Of course, Konrad isn't here and the idiot of his soft, liberal, artist husband took his place. So, it's let's squeeze the bum time. 

“The judge has finally offered us a solution. It's the best we can get and I'd say you must accept it.” 

“Must be very bad if you're already sweetening it.” I growled and Michel glared at me. “I'm sorry.” I apologized quickly. 

“That's better, mon chou.” That was certainly humiliating for a thirty-three-year-old man, father. “As I was saying, the judge can't overlook all the evidence but he feels that it isn't enough as to grant the extraditions requested by the General Prosecutor in Manhattan.” 

I sighed in utter relief. 

“Those are great news. Does Konrad walk free now?” 

“No, not really. The tax-evasion from the Americans is quite real and the Swiss government is doing its best to clean the country's image of safe heaven. The bank's practices were murky to say it... kindly. If I were the judge, you'd get at least twenty-five years in a blink for fraud, money laundering, concealment of assets and a long list.” 

“Fortunately, you're not the judge.” I said dryly. 

“Fortunately, you still have friends in the right places, Guntram, and they have placed some pressure on the man and he's willing do make a deal with you. An extra-judiciary deal.” 

No, I don't have any friends here but I know a few people whose balls I had to squeeze with Konrad's “doomsday-chip” and it seems it worked out fine. I had to put in line all those holy Joes in the Vatican. Quick to cash, quick to run away. I don't care if I'm excommunicated. I'm truly considering to turn to Catharism. The Catholic Church is a band of... whatever. Next time one of those creepy crows calls me “my son”, he's dead. Literally. 

“If you're still with me, I would like to explain this deal’s conditions, Guntram,” I heard Michel saying and he certainly has a way to telling you off. I mean, he freezes Kurt's blood when he “calls his attention upon something” and he still does the same with me. 

“I'm listening.” 

“Good. First of all, there will be a collective bail for all of you and this bail will be transformed into a fine for financial misconduct by the FINMA once it is paid. This way, the payment of this hefty sum will not imply that the defendants agree in any way to the culpability of the charges. It will be presented as a non-judiciary agreement between the General Prosecutor's Office and the Lintorff Privatbank.” 

“How big is it?” I asked. 

“About 4.3 billion Swiss Francs, Guntram. The Americans get 2.9 billion and the rest is for the Swiss. It's a collective fine. If you pay it, all of you get out of jail. If you don't, they stay.” 

“What?” I croaked. “Billions?” 

“Swiss Francs Billions. Cash. Second, the bank, as proof of their good faith and close collaboration with the authorities will release all of their records regarding its American clients.” 

“We can't do that! It's against the law!” 

“Not any more. It can be arranged...or you can get hacked and poof; the list is made public. Either way is acceptable.” 

I needed to swallow a pill. Michel looked at me like the undertaker. Now I know why Ferdinand was telling me that he looked like the crow perched on the lintel. Very Poe's. 

“If we do that, the bank is dead.” 

“Which lead us to the third condition. The FINMA will liquidate the bank and the hedge fund based in Geneva. As for the two based in New York, the Americans will accept their liquidation within the next three years. As I told you, their pockets are empty and they don't want more Fanny Maes around. Three years is a good lapse for returning investors' money back and even look like good boys if you make some profit.” 

“This is like a death sentence for us,” I protested. “It is impossible!” 

“The Swiss want to set an example,” he told me laconically. “Pay and be over with it. Your husband's personal fortune won't be hit too hardly. Be glad it's only that. You still have many companies which you run very well, properties and you really don't need the extra stress of a bank and those hedge funds.” 

“That bank is Konrad's life.” I said. 

“He'll get over it.” 

“Don't you understand me? I can't accept those terms.”

“If you don't do it, then you can start to prepare yourself for a long judiciary battle and I don't think you'll get another offer like that. Lintorff could stay in there for years till he's extradited to the USA. The Swiss also don't want to send him there but they need to set an example after all this media circus we are going through. It will not be a quick process.” 

“I don't even have 4.3 billion cash! I can give them properties, but not cash!” 

“I think you do, but it would be difficult to justify the money. If you sign the agreement, your bank accounts here will be reopened and up to the last penny you put in investigated.” 

“Even there!” I seethed. “I'll have to sell properties, companies, artworks, stocks and I don't know what else. I can't do it in three days.” 

“May I remind you that there are some more people indicted too? People who still are cashing from your husband's money? They should also help with the tab.”

“I can't ask them.” 

“I think you should. All of them were standing in line for their bonuses. They're not exactly the proletariat, Guntram.” 

“I'm not going to accept this. I think we should challenge the judge. I have tons of things against him.” 

“You can do that and waste a year.... Minimum.” 

“I can't ask Konrad to throw away his life!” 

“A bad settlement is always better than a favorable verdict. Old lawyers golden rule, my child. I can speak with Lintorff and tell you what he thinks. I think you should accept it.”

“I can't. It's so unfair.” I said and closed my eyes. “I'll start to look for the money but you must have Konrad's agreement in written before I agree with you and that damned judge.” 

“Guntram, this whole mess has taken more than a month already. I'd say the judge is being cooperative considering the circumstances. If you start playing difficult, that could change. May I remind you that Lintorff's imprisonment conditions are fantastic? Do you want that he's sent to a normal prison?” 

“I want a normal bail and to wait for the trial!” 

“You know that's impossible. As I've told you since the first day, this is not a judiciary problem but a political one. Your friends or former “associates” are in a mess. If Lintorff goes to America, nothing prevents him from reaching a deal and it will be their head on the pillory. Many European politicians will lose their jobs and many companies will be ruined, if we are lucky enough that people stop reading newspapers. On the other hand, the Americans are pressuring the Swiss really hard and they can't evade the scandal without losing their face. So, the Swiss are bribing the Americans. The list and some cash, enough to save their faces too. It's a good deal. If you don't accept it, then the whole lot is shipped to America. You have enough trouble with the Order being in the open. Take this offer and send that idiot of a husband you have into retirement. He's old enough.” 

The worst part is that Michel is right. Konrad is overtired. Exhausted. From even before this mess started. He's almost sixty and he feels like eighty. He's burned out. 

We need him at home and honestly, fighting with three or four eco-friendly unionists is nothing compared to what he's been living so far. I mean, there's enough money as to stay here or move away, something we will have to do because nobody wants to see us. 

Ostracism was the toughest punishment. 

I'll stop complaining and start looking for the money without arising too many suspicions. I also don't want to get the authorities on my back. 

* * *

June 20^th, 2014

“This must be an extra reward for you, Mr. Lacroix,” Konrad said the minute he saw the lawyer sitting on the chair across the thick glass panel.

“Not really. I'm here because of Guntram but Gandini could have handled it too.” 

“Only two things can make you visit me here. To see me in prison or to serve me the divorce papers.” 

“Neither of them,” Michel answered laconically. “I'm here on professional grounds and to be honest, your predicament has made my former law firm very happy. The fashions suit you.” 

Konrad made an evident effort to keep his mouth shut and his hands inoffensively crossed over the table. “Your reason to be here?” 

“The judge has set a collective bail,” Michel said coldly. “About 4.3 billion Swiss francs and probably the fine will be something around it. Guntram wants to contest the sum, but I'd say, pay and be quiet.”

“That amount is simply ridiculous. Never before a fine was so high ! The Americans...” 

“The Americans will fine you too, but they're happy to force you to pay this. If you pay, we will get a not guilty plea from the Swiss courts and this will be considered as an extra-judiciary settlement. You provide your American clients names list, promise not to be bad again and forget about setting a foot in a bank for the next hundred years. This way, we are all happy.” 

“I have done nothing....” 

“I'm one of your lawyers,” Michel interrupted Konrad laconically. “Save it. Fine, say you're clean as a baby and sit here for the next twenty years.... or better, do it in America because that's where you're headed to. A hundred billion hidden from Uncle Sam isn't something easily forgiven, especially by the common Joe after all the media storm we are enduring.”

“It's a ridiculous amount,” Konrad protested. 

“Plus six or seven months more before the Supreme court reaches any decision. Guntram is in favor of an appeal, but I think it's nonsense. You have the money.” 

“Not in cash!” 

“Time to break the piggy, Lintorff.” 

“You're truly enjoying this, Lacroix,” 

“No, not really. I hate the hard time Guntram is going through. He's too decent for his own sake. He's working his skin off to keep your companies afloat and other things too.” 

Konrad sharply inhaled when he understood the double meaning phrase. “Lots of work?” 

“The smoking industry is always a bad business, sir. Lots of new brands in Marseilles, for example.” 

Konrad closed his eyes. “Guntram shouldn't be so concerned about it. It is what it is.” 

“He feels concerned about the future and wants to close it down. He has already started it.” 

“Guntram?” Konrad gaped at Michel. 

“He always had almost like a Calvinist view on vice and morality, no matter the... ahem, smokers' religion. I'd say, he has dealt with the matter in a swift and radical way.”

“Smoking was always a bad habit.” 

“A nasty one and it has been turned into a radical one nowadays. I'm glad that anti-smoking campaigns are doing so well. Guntram preferred to close down what little interest you still had in cigarettes and cigars. Nobody smokes any more.” 

'My kitten? Impossible! He wouldn't do it.'  

“How did the workers or the unions take the news?” Konrad asked. 

“It has been dealt with. Very discreetly. I guess that our traditional tobacconists are very happy with Guntram's views. He also thinks our business is more into elite tourism than massive tourism.” 

“Of course, European tourism was always better for the environment.”

“If you accept the bail terms, then Guntram would be able to visit you.” 

Konrad thought for a long time before he reached his decision. 

“Tell Guntram that he should pay the fine by selling part of our capital but I don't want to see him here. I'll see him and the boys when all this is over.” 

“Very well. This is for the best,” Michel said as he extracted a load of papers from his portfolio. “I need your signature in these documents and you'll be a free man as soon as we can pay for this. As you can see, all the others have already signed the agreement that will be presented to the court.” 

Konrad signed the papers in silence, without reading them as Ferdinand's signature was enough for him and watched how Michel put them back inside his leather portfolio. 

“There is one more thing, Mr. Lacroix,” Konrad said and Michel's eyebrows arched in reply. “There is a woman with a young child here, an immigrant from Somalia or Ethiopia. She's accused of prostitution....” 

“Prostitution is legal in Switzerland,” Michel quickly replied. “Tax evasion, perhaps? You tend to mismatch the terms.” 

“No, it was corrupting minors.” Konrad nearly barked furiously. “The child was present when she was with a customer and now, she's in here with the child. She needs to pay the fine and find a position before she's expelled from the country. You have experience in that field.” 

“I'll see what I can do for her. Fairuza might need help in the kitchen.” 

“Say nothing to Guntram. He's quite obsessive with the personnel. Add it to the final tab, sir.” Konrad said sarcastically. 

“Getting soft, Lintorff? Not only hospitals make people find God.” 

“The child cries a lot in the night. I would like to get rid of him.” Konrad answered dryly to the taunt and Michel rose from his chair. 

“Guntram is right. It's quite easy to see when you're lying, Lintorff. You used to be better at that. Perhaps your retirement isn't such a bad idea.” 

'And people bitch about mother in laws,' thought Konrad as he watched Michel leave his side of the interview room. 'That idiot of a prosecutor only needed to force me to stay with de Lisle for two hours and I'd have given him everything.' 

Knowing he couldn't delay for much longer his return to the cell, Konrad slowly rose from the chair. The news were unsettling to say the least. His Guntram had been forced to make decisions on what were the Komturen's problems. He should have never been dragged to it and yet, there he was; trying to put in line those animals from the desert once more infesting his land. 'I only hope the Serbs aren't up to too much savagery. Seeing their methods would kill Guntram.' 

'Not again!' Konrad kept his best poker face as he saw the “Order's” guard, standing at the door, ready to take him back to his cell. 'People could be subtler when hiring spies,' he thought as he approached the round man. 

“Are you done, sir?” 

'No doubt, this is a Swiss prison.' “Lead the way please.”

The corridors were the same as usual but Konrad didn't pay attention to the many metal doors he passed by. He could hear some feminine voices speaking but he ignored them. To keep himself sane, he had decided to ignore everything around him. This wasn't his environment and he shouldn't be part of it. The guard's uniform was a good focal point and he concentrated on it till the man stopped in front of his cell. 

“What you did for Semira was very nice, Hochmeister,” Hans, the guard -or the “Bulle von Tolz” as Konrad had named him- mumbled as he loudly turned the key to open the metal door. 

“Wasn't this conversation supposed to be private? That was my lawyer.” Konrad lost his patience. 

“What conversation? I heard nothing about our brothers' problems in Marseilles. Good to hear that something is being done. No rope is long enough for them,” the man whispered in a way that Konrad couldn't match with the round, soft spoken prison guard who always was giving bibles and rosaries to the female prisoners, no matter their religion. “Glad to hear the Consort is solving the situation.” 

“What do you know?” 

“More than you think,” the man said. “I'm not with them. I'm like Rossi. Venice.”

Konrad looked at him again and entered in his room. “The worst is not knowing what's going on. This solitary confinement is....” 

The man only nodded and closed the door on Konrad's face. 'The last they want, is to have me plotting my revenge. He will never bring me anything.' 

With slow moves and full of dread, he sat again on the bed to continue to read “Anna Karenina”. 

* * *

Guntram was at crossroads. All what he had in Switzerland in cash were about four hundred million Swiss Francs. The money Konrad had put under his name was not his but the boys and amounted eight hundred million more. Hating himself for it, he was half-decided to use that money. 

'Konrad will kill me if I touch the boys' money and use it in his benefit. All that money is clean and sound. Untouchable if our former clients sue the shit out of us. It's their inheritance.'

'No, I can't touch it. I'll have to start selling other things or get the money back. Legally.'

“Konrad gets out of prison and I go in for money laundering,” Guntram mumbled irritated as he wrote an e-mail asking the team of accountants to meet him in the afternoon. His mobile beeped twice and he picked it up to read the message. 

“I really want to do business with you. Get back to me. A.” 

'Fucking pushy Arab. Can't he understand what “no” means?' Guntram slammed the phone against the table. 'Should fall head-on into one of his oil wells.'

'Should have smashed the fucking watch before sending it back.' 

“Don't be so stubborn, Guntram. I know you're reading this.” The screen blinked again.

'From the Russian mobster to the crazy sheik. Way to go Guntram. Why do you always get the psychos? Can't you get a normal one? 

'Yes, you did. Twice and you sent them home,' his inner voice supplied merrily. 'You'd be bored to tears with a guy like Pedro or John. You love the smell of napalm in the morning.' 

“I can't stop thinking about you,” the phone’s screen flashed again.

'This is a private number, how the hell did he get it? I'll kill Gulya if she gave it to him.' 

“Return my calls. I need to hear your voice.” 

'He should have got that pork stuck in his throat. This is bordering on harassment but probably the fucker has diplomatic immunity. Some days, the Serbian Solution sounds good.' 

'I have to stop it before it gets out of hand.' 

“Who Am I kidding? It's already out of hand.” Guntram said out loud as he typed back. “I'm in a meeting. Call me in three hours.” 

* * *

The concealed incoming caller ID was enough to make Guntram stomp his foot under the dinning table. 'Who said Arabs were unpunctual? Three hours, two seconds.' 

“This is getting annoying, Altair.” Guntram said coldly. “I'm married. We both are.” 

“Why do you reject me so much?” 

“Please, stop calling me.” Guntram said. “We have nothing in common and I have my hands full at the moment.” 

“All right. Let's talk business.” Altair's voice changed and it took Guntram by surprise. “There's a rumor in the city that your bank is facing a large fine and the loss of your license.” 

“This is the first notice I have.” Guntram lied evenly. 'Fuck! We're roasted.' “Do not be concerned, Altair because our firms stand in perfectly good health.” 

“My fund is looking for properties in the Zurich area and we would like to make and offer for the building you have in Bahnhoff Str.” 

'So much for endless love,' Guntram smirked. 

“We have nothing in the market right now. I suggest you to look for a real estate agent. There might be some available properties in Zurich.” Guntram replied haughtily. “The bank's building has been with the family since the nineteenth century.” Suddenly, his dinner lost all its attractive and he pushed the dish aside and began to walk around the small dining room. 

“I would like to make an appointment with you to discuss our offer.” Altair said. 

“I will tell my secretary to arrange it with our lawyers, but at the moment, there's nothing for sale.” 

“I would appreciate if you consider my offer. I'm extending my hand to you without second intentions.” 

'Yeah right.' “Thank you for your offer.” Guntram's tone had turned into ice. “We'll speak some other time.” 

“I'm looking forward to. My door is always open for you, Guntram.”