Nele Neuhaus - Swimming with Sharks

“Done,” the deputy US attorney replied. “We’re ready to go whenever you give the signal.”

Jenkins nodded in satisfaction.

“What does your plan look like?”

“We have signed confessions from fifty-three bribed individuals,” Connors explained. “There are eleven more people on the list we haven’t spoken to; Whitewater is dead, and Harding still refuses to cooperate. I plan on doing nothing.”

The smile vanished from Jenkins’s face.

“What do you mean?”

“After talking to Mr. Engels, I’ve decided to investigate this without going public,” Connors countered in a calm voice. “The Department of Justice shares my opinion that it’s better if we don’t raise too much dust. We’re going to offer a plea bargain to those willing to cooperate. They’ll avoid tax-evasion charges by paying the back taxes that they owe. We will refrain from prosecuting on criminal corruption charges as long as these men voluntarily resign from office and never run in the future.”

“But—” Jenkins’s jaw dropped in astonishment; he was struggling for words.

“Engels has spoken to the president’s advisor Jordy Rosenbaum,” the deputy US attorney continued, “and the president prefers this quiet solution to avoid an emotional public discussion.”

Jenkins was silent for a moment. Relief was clearly etched into his face. At that moment, Connors knew for sure that his instincts hadn’t failed him, and that Nick was right again. It was unbelievable. Jenkins was in league with Vitali.

“What about Vitali?” Jenkins actually asked.

“Nothing,” Connors said, shrugging his shoulders. “What can we do? Given the current evidence, we can’t prove anything. Until this woman reappears, I won’t even think about preparing indictments that would just be thrown out due to a lack of evidence.”

It was silent in the large office.

“Oh well.” Jenkins cleared his throat and then smiled. “It appears I’m no longer needed in New York. However, I want you to update me regularly about the progress in this case.”

“Of course.” Connors nodded. “I’ll keep you posted.”

Nick Kostidis stood at the frosted door of the private internal medicine ward on Goldwater Memorial Hospital’s third floor. He stared out the window. Ever since he’d found Alex in that sleazy dive, something had changed inside of him. The sight of her battered face, the fear and horror in her eyes, made him forget his own sorrow. Now, he felt a hot, raging fury, a wild thirst for revenge. His time of paralyzing numbness was over, and Nick knew with certainty that he wouldn’t allow Vitali to get away unscathed this time.

The sun pushed through the thick cloud cover and shone on the skyscrapers behind the United Nations. Somewhere over there, Vitali was sleeping calmly, thinking that Alex was dead. Just as dead as Mary and Christopher, Britney Edwards, David Zuckerman, Clarence Whitewater, and Zachary St. John. But he was mistaken. Alex was alive and would soon overcome her shock. And he—Nick Kostidis—would do everything in his power to support her in her testimony.

Nick’s eyes burned from exhaustion, but there was no time to sleep. Lloyd Connors and Gordon Engels had come to the hospital the very same night. They agreed to keep Alex’s reappearance hidden for the time being. Nick and Connors managed to convince Gordon Engels that Jenkins was no longer on their team, and Engels had called the president’s chief of staff and the attorney general—both of whom gave a green light to a strategy excluding the FBI from the investigation.

A few days earlier, Connors had hired a private detective to find the eyewitness to the murder Vitali had committed in 1963—at least according to van Mieren’s testimony.

“I don’t just want to throw Vitali into prison,” Connors had said. “I want him in the electric chair.” He was deeply shocked to see how brutally Vitali had treated Alex.

The frosted glass door opened, and Dr. Virginia Summer, senior physician of the internal medicine ward, stepped out. She balanced two paper cups of hot coffee. Nick had known Ginnie Summer for a long time. She’d been a friend of Mary’s, and her husband was a senior partner at a much-respected law firm. Nick had studied with him back in the day at NYU. “Hello, Ginnie,” Nick said. “How’s Alex?”

“As good as can be expected under the circumstances,” Dr. Summer said as she handed him one of the coffees. “She has broken ribs and severe contusions, but fortunately no life-threatening internal injuries. With a few days of rest and good medical attention, she’ll be over the physical part of this very soon.”

The doctor gave him a scrutinizing glance.

“And you?” she asked. “How are you?”

Nick looked at her; he shrugged his shoulders and stared out the window. The city that he had always loved, that he’d always fought and lived for, felt hostile all of a sudden. A sip of the hot, strong liquid revived his spirits.

“I’m doing pretty well,” he replied. “I’m slowly getting used to Mary not being there when I come home.”

He swallowed hard. Was it unfair to Mary that he had fallen in love with Alex? Would it have happened if she hadn’t lost her life?

“You look very tired,” Ginnie determined. “Go home and get some sleep. Ms. Sontheim is in good hands with us.”

“I know.” Nick smiled tiredly. “That’s why I brought her here.”

The doctor nodded.

“You seem to truly care for her,” she said. “Is it true what they say about her on TV?”

“No,” Nick said, shaking his head, “none of that is true.”

He sat down awkwardly on an orange plastic chair, and the doctor sat next to him.

“I’ve never before seen you so worried,” Ginnie said, “and so compassionate.”

Nick turned his head and looked at her in astonishment.

“You’ve changed,” the doctor said.

“Have I?”

“Yes,” she said. “Since I’ve known you—almost thirty-five years now—you’ve always been self-involved. Many ambitious men are selfish, but it was more than that in your case. I never envied Mary being married to you.”

Nick sighed.

“I admired you, regardless,” Ginnie continued. “You had a vision that you fought for with all your might. You always succeeded in inspiring people with your ideas. But sometimes you were downright self-righteous and inconsiderate.”

“I’ve realized that,” Nick admitted. “I was too uncompromising and made many mistakes.”

He turned the coffee cup in his hands.

“And now? Has something changed?” the doctor asked.

“Oh yes,” he said. “I’ve been punished severely for my arrogance, and I’ll have to live the rest of my life with the guilt of knowing that Mary and Chris died because of me.”

He was silent for a moment.

“Alex came to me at a time when I was seriously contemplating suicide. She came and listened to me like no one else did. She wasn’t afraid to talk to me. All I heard from our friends were empty phrases. All of a sudden, everyone seemed afraid of me. Only this woman, whom I hardly knew, came to me and she helped me to survive. I’m deeply indebted to Alex. She saved my life in two ways.”

“I get it,” the doctor said quietly.

“Do you?” Nick looked up, and Dr. Summer saw the agony in his eyes. She grabbed his hand. This revelation that he had true emotions, was capable of acting without expediency, suddenly made him likable in the doctor’s eyes.

“Mary was a friend of mine,” she said quietly. “I liked her so much. But she’s dead, and you must live on. No one expects you to mourn forever and be lonely.”

Nick stared at her. Then he frowned, as if he were about to burst into tears. He watched Ginny Summer leave behind the frosted glass door, and then he turned toward the window and leaned his forehead against the cold glass. Self-righteous and inconsiderate. An egoist. Yes, that’s what he was. Filled with conviction about the righteousness of his actions, he’d never even considered the feelings of all the people he indicted and prosecuted. He’d been too enamored by his own success and reputation to even evaluate himself. Now, he’d received a painful lesson in humility. Fate had punished him severely for his mistakes, but it had also given him a second chance.