Nele Neuhaus - Swimming with Sharks

Many of the city’s construction companies are involved in this corruption scandal, first and foremost VITAL Building Corp., which was awarded the contract for the construction of both World Financial Center subsections. Its owner, Sergio Vitali, has previously been accused of bribery and illegal price fixing in connection with several construction contract awards. However, the affair involving the construction of the World Financial Center is the largest and most comprehensive case in which many well-known companies and banks have been cited for their involvement. With the help of Zuckerman’s testimony, the US attorney’s office hoped to shed light on this case and finally bring Vitali to court for “his dubious and criminal business dealings.”

“ Merda ,” Sergio growled, then finished the article.

The FBI still has no leads in their search for the perpetrators. At yesterday’s press conference, Truman McDeere, the head of the task force, said, “This was a cold-blooded, brutal murder that carries the Mafia’s signature. Someone quite obviously feared that Zuckerman’s testimony in front of the investigation committee could bring some inconvenient truths to light.”

“I didn’t think that the Feds would make so much noise about this,” Nelson van Mieren said, concerned. “Their failure was rather embarrassing.”

“This is not the FBI.” Sergio slapped the newspaper with a flat hand. “This article is Kostidis’s creation.”

He let out a sinister laugh.

“He thought he finally had me, and now he sees that I slipped through his fingers once again.”

“I don’t like this at all, Sergio,” the lawyer objected. “This talk about the Mafia and corruption damages your reputation. This is a godsend for the media.”

“So what? I don’t give a damn.” Sergio stood up and crumpled the newspaper. “No one will remember this in a couple of weeks. Kostidis can suspect as much as he wants, but he can’t prove anything. And he very well knows it.”

“I don’t think they will let it rest so easily this time,” Nelson replied, “because it’s an opportunity to discredit you publicly. You know yourself how sensitive this topic still is. It’ll become difficult to maintain the support of our friends if the press picks up on this. Politicians hate negative publicity.”

“But they love my money.” Sergio laughed. “I don’t give a damn whether or not they like me. I own them. I know way too much about them and their secret tax-free earnings for them to stab me in the back.”

Nelson van Mieren let out a sigh. It had taken him years of hard work to build a legal and serious facade for Sergio’s empire. Just a few negative words in the headlines and television coverage could cause a great deal of damage. And these headlines were sure to come, because the press was virtually starving for sensational stories in the summer.

“The building commissioner just called,” Nelson said.

“He’s starting to freak out,” Sergio said, sitting in his armchair again and leaning back with a sinister smile. “We gave him twenty-five thousand dollars last month! What’s he going to do? He won’t bite the hand that feeds him.”

He turned his chair to the side to behold the Empire State Building and the skyline of Midtown Manhattan.

“Look at this, Nelson,” he said, “my city at our feet! I’m the king of Manhattan. Anyone who wants to do business here must get past me first!”

He laughed, but there was an icy glint in his eyes.

“Nelson, I’m not a megalomaniac, you know that. I’ve made it here from the streets of Little Italy, and nobody helped me. I’m used to a headwind, and I’m not scared of it. Quite the contrary—I like to fight! And I like to win. I’ll win this time.”

“Kostidis will try to crucify you.”

“He’s been trying for years.” Sergio waved his hand, dismissing him. “I don’t care. I’ll stay backstage pulling the strings just like I’ve always done. Do you know what would really be bad, Nelson?”

“No, I don’t.”

“If I were in a position where I needed to hand this all over—that would be bad. But I don’t.” Sergio smiled, musing. “I could have retired a long time ago. I’ve seriously considered the idea, but…”

“But?” Nelson looked at him attentively.

“Massimo isn’t ready to lead all of this yet.” Sergio made a sweeping gesture. “And besides that, I still enjoy this game way too much.”

Nelson looked at his friend with an uneasy feeling. He had witnessed Sergio’s unstoppable rise and knew how ruthless he could be. But Sergio was wrong about one thing: he could not afford to ignore his reputation, because many of his business partners wouldn’t allow themselves to be linked with a man who was called a Mafioso in the press. Sergio’s empire—based on brutality and bloodshed—had become so mighty and powerful because he understood how to convince influential men to side with him. Assuming that nothing could shake it was a mistake. He’d made many enemies on his way to the top, and Nelson was convinced that many of these bought friends were just waiting for the moment when Sergio’s empire started to rock to quickly jump ship. There were no bigger opportunists in the world than politicians.

“What’s the matter, Nelson?” Sergio asked. “Don’t tell me this newspaper scribbling scares you.”

“I think you’re taking this much too lightly,” his lawyer replied. “We can’t afford to make any mistakes that could threaten our key connections.”

“What are you trying to say?” Sergio’s ice-blue eyes seemed to pierce van Mieren. Nelson shuddered. It was inconceivable to imagine what would happen if someone who really knew something decided to get out. Vincent Levy, for example. Would he risk the reputation of his bank by publicly supporting Sergio? Never! Levy was a businessman, and he wasn’t Italian. He was a Jew. If push came to shove, he would switch sides to ensure his own survival. But it was pointless to argue with Sergio because he refused to accept any reality but his own. Nelson realized that Sergio had stopped heeding his advice a long time ago.

“Nothing,” he said, “you’re right. Chances are that no one will still be talking about this in a few days.”

Sergio smiled.

“Nelson, my old friend, you’re not going to lose your nerve on me, are you? Speculation over whether I have something to do with the Mafia is less damaging than the testimony of a man who knows facts and figures. The dust around Zuckerman will settle, and then the bootlickers from politics, justice, and the administration will return. Ancient human greed has always bound them to me.”

He stood up and stared out the window. Even if they avoided him for a while, they would never revoke their loyalty. One person who had planned on doing so was now lying stiff and cold in the morgue at the Department of Forensic Medicine. Sergio Vitali was no one to mess with.

“What about the woman?”

Sergio looked at Nelson in surprise.

“Alex?”

“Yes.”

“Nothing. What about her?”

“Is she on your side?”

“I don’t know.” Sergio shrugged his shoulders. “She does her job, and she does it well. I don’t talk about my business with her.”

Nelson breathed a sigh of relief. He had secretly feared that Sergio had given in to weakness and let her in on his secret business deals.

“Are you worried that I would risk everything because of a woman?” Sergio laughed out loud.

“Well,” Nelson replied, “after all, you toyed with the idea of confiding in her.”

“But I decided against it. It was a sentimental moment. It passed.”

He sat down at his desk again, but the smile had vanished from his face and made way for a grim expression.