Nele Neuhaus - Swimming with Sharks

“Why did she come to you, of all people, with this information?”

Nick didn’t answer right away. He remembered the morning at the beach in Montauk and the sight of the young woman with her blonde hair flowing in the wind.

“Nick?” Gordon Engels asked, and Nick noticed that everyone was staring at him.

“I met Ms. Sontheim through mutual friends,” he said. “She apparently trusted me because she knew that I’m an avowed opponent of Vitali.”

“When did you hear about the secret accounts?” Jenkins asked.

“On the day when Ms. Sontheim came to me at the monastery,” Nick replied. “She recognized the man who shot at me, and that had apparently finally convinced her that Vitali is a criminal.”

“Why didn’t you tell the US Attorney’s Office or the FBI earlier?”

“Mr. Jenkins,” Nick said and leaned forward, “I’ve told you already. I’ve been observing Sergio Vitali for fifteen years. I know who he is, what he’s capable of. During my time as the US attorney of this district, I witnessed bulletproof charges dropped many times because key witnesses suddenly lost their memory or disappeared. Vitali is the godfather of New York City—the last capo di tutti capi —and he’s more powerful than any Mafia boss before him. I didn’t want to put Ms. Sontheim’s life at risk.”

“And why did you change your mind now?”

Nick sighed. What was all this? Why was Jenkins acting like he was cross-examining a defendant?

“In my opinion, Ms. Sontheim is incorrectly under suspicion of murder,” he said in a firm voice, “and this is a diversionary tactic, just like the anthrax terrorist was.”

“Why do you believe that?” Jenkins was proving to be extraordinarily suspicious.

“Vitali and Levy owned a front organization called MPM, through which they operated a large-scale insider trading scheme with the help of Mr. St. John. The proceeds from these illegal transactions were funneled to secret accounts in the Caymans and the Bahamas. Ms. Sontheim provided us with the necessary information.”

Jenkins interrupted him. “So she—”

“If you could let me finish please,” Nick replied harshly. They briefly measured each other with cold looks. Jenkins frowned and signaled for him to continue. Nick recounted the instructions that Alex had received from the board of directors to inform them about every detail of her work. He mentioned the discovery that SeaStarFriends was the owner of MPM, and the busted takeover deal of Database by Whithers Computers.

“Ms. Sontheim found out that the owners of MPM were changed the very same night that St. John was murdered. Vitali and Levy decided to sacrifice their accomplice St. John in order to save their own skins.”

“But this is mere speculation!”

“I’m in possession of a commercial registry certificate dated April 14, 2000. At that time, Venture Capital SeaStarFriends LP was the sole owner of MPM. Another commercial registry certificate from the British Virgin Islands confirms that Mr. Vincent Levy and Mr. Sergio Vitali were the owners of this offshore company. According to electronic records, Mr. Zachary St. John and Ms. Alexandra Sontheim have been the registered owners for four days now.”

He paused and took a gulp of water.

“I’m pretty sure that St. John was shot because he refused to be sacrificed. Maybe he threatened to blow everything up. Just the fact that he prepared a complete written testimony proves that he was unsure about his boss’s loyalty. By blaming the murder on Ms. Sontheim, Vitali killed two birds with one stone. As a murder suspect, she’s hardly a credible witness, and while the press jumped on this murder, no one noticed how quickly the investigation of MPM’s bankruptcy fizzled out thanks to Vitali’s connections at the SEC. That’s pretty clever, isn’t it?”

“If there’s a case here,” Jenkins noted coolly, “it constitutes a criminal offense, as a conscious and willful deceit of the FBI and the US Attorney’s Office.”

“Yes. That’s exactly what it is, in my opinion,” Nick affirmed.

“But the police commissioner himself involved the FBI in the investigation.”

“Harding is also on Vitali’s payroll,” Connors reminded him. “It’s also in his interest that these bribes don’t become public.”

“Nick, do you know where Ms. Sontheim is at the moment?” Engels interjected.

“Unfortunately, I don’t.” Nick shook his head. “I only know that Vitali has a lot of people searching for her. She won’t live much longer if he manages to get his hands on her.”

Everyone in the room fell silent. They needed some time to process the facts.

“If we keep ignoring the corruption in this city, then Vitali will continue his operations,” Nick said emphatically. “We need to blow this scandal up. The public’s reaction is completely secondary.”

“I’d still like to check your witness’s credibility before I take further action,” Jenkins insisted.

“I don’t know where she is,” Nick replied in a harsh tone. “I don’t even know whether she’ll appear again. The only thing I know is that Vitali spends every minute we waste doing nothing covering his tracks further.”

“The evidence that we have against him is sufficient,” Connors said. “Once we confront these people with our suspicion of corruption, they’ll certainly provide the evidence we need to nail Vitali.”

All eyes were resting expectantly on the deputy director of the FBI, who finally stood up.

“I need to call Mr. Horner,” he said and walked over to Nick’s desk. Nick and Connors looked at each other. If the FBI didn’t cooperate or if it even hindered their work, they had little chance of success, even if the Department of Justice, as represented by Attorney General Engels, was on their side. Vitali would find out they were after him and he’d slip away again. Their advantage was that he didn’t know yet that a storm was brewing over him. They needed to act quickly. They had already wasted too much time.

“Mr. Kostidis,” Jenkins said after being on the telephone for a while, “Mr. Horner wants to talk to you.”

Nick took the phone. He repeated a short version of the story to the director of the FBI, who then asked him to pass the phone back to Jenkins. Nick felt his heart beating. He remembered this feeling from the courtroom, when he had presented his closing arguments and sat waiting for the jury’s decision. Just as he had with the many criminal court proceedings he’d worked on as an attorney, he had done everything he could. The final decision was out of his hands. Nick walked over to his chair, sat down, and closed his eyes. It was dead silent in the room except for Jenkins’s muted voice. As the deputy director of the FBI finished his call and put the receiver on the handle, Nick looked over at him. He instantly knew what decision he had made. The relief made him tremble inside. Horner had given his okay. The FBI would support them in their operation to take down Sergio Vitali. His years of experience had taught Nick how to read people’s decisions in their faces.

“Mr. Horner will speak to the president,” Jenkins announced, “but he ordered us to take every necessary step to investigate this matter. He emphasized that we need to proceed as discreetly as possible, without any major press exposure.”

Connors could hardly suppress his triumphant grin.

“Mr. Connors,” Jenkins continued, “pay a visit to Mr. de Lancie today and tell him that he is suspended from his duties until further notice.”

Connors nodded.

“What’s the scope of the cooperation?” Engels inquired.

“Mr. Connors will lead the investigation,” Jenkins said. “Gordon, give him your best people. Increase your efforts to find Ms. Sontheim.”