Peter Spiegelman - Black Maps

“After months of courting, when the meetings with the Latins had gotten Moe all hot and bothered, and the mad social whirl had turned his head ever so slightly, it was time to get serious. Nassouli’s pass at Moe took the form of a plea for Moe’s sage advice. Gerard confided that MWB had been trying to build an investment banking business, but that it had become clear to them that they lacked talent at the top. Did Moe know of anyone with the experience, vision, and drive to build such a business? Moe’s first thought was ‘How about me?’ And he said this- discreetly, of course. To which Gerard’s response was to be stunned, even a bit embarrassed. ‘Naturally, we would jump at the chance to get someone of your caliber and accomplishment, but it never occurred to us that you would walk away from a partnership.’ He was quite the actor, that Gerard.

“It was Moe’s turn to be embarrassed. After some stammering and stumbling, and aided by some single-malt lubrication deftly applied by Gerard, Moe revealed that partnership was not a certainty for him. Now Nassouli was even more stunned, and indignant on his friend’s behalf. ‘How can this be? To ignore a man of your keen intelligence, skill, insight-it’s shameful!’ Moe-who was quite well oiled by then-at first had no answer to these questions. ‘Something to do with visions and boxes ’ was all he could say. But then it all came tumbling out-the damaged pride, the anger and bitterness, the sense of betrayal. It was music to Nassouli’s ears.

“Now that he knew Moe’s problem, Nassouli knew just what sweet nothings to whisper. The firm’s gripe with Moe was lack of vision, that he didn’t paint on a big enough canvas; the firm’s strategy was to build an emerging markets franchise; MWB wanted to build an investment banking business. All well and good, said Gerard, here’s a bold stroke for the partners. And he laid it all out for his good friend Moe: a strategic alliance between Moe’s firm and MWB in the emerging markets, one that would let his firm tap into MWB’s huge network and customer base in those markets-give them an instant presence-and an instant clientele.

“Moe didn’t get it at first, and Gerard had to explain a few times. When it did sink in, Moe was flabbergasted, then leery. Did Nassouli really have the clout to strike this kind of deal? Gerard, reassuring but slightly bemused, explained that as head of New York, he was also head of the Americas for MWB, and one of the top five men in the bank- senior enough to make this happen. And what would MWB get out of this alliance? Again, Gerard had the ready answer: through Moe’s firm, MWB would be able to offer their own clients investment banking services that would not otherwise be part of their repertoire. And all MWB would want would be to share some expenses and have a share in the revenues from the clients they brought to the table. What he didn’t say, of course, was that this would give MWB another big, prestigious, squeaky-clean conduit for washing their clients’ money.

“Then he whispered the sweetest nothing of all. ‘Take this deal to your partners, take it to them as your brainchild, and we here at MWB will make it clear to them that without Moe-for whom we have the greatest respect, who has won our admiration, trust, and confidencewithout Moe, there is no deal.’ Moe must have pictured it happeningthe meeting with the managing partners, himself making the presentation, the revenue projections sloping up and up, then the side conversations between Gerard and the senior partner. Moe knew, and Gerard saw the knowledge gleaming in Moe’s grateful eyes, that this deal would be Moe’s ticket to partnership.” Burrows paused and drank a bit and shook his head a little.

“And if Gerard had just left it at that, as he easily could have, Moe would have been guilty of gullibility, stupidity perhaps, and, of course, vanity-but nothing more. He would not have been complicit. But that would not have satisfied Gerard. In the end, Gerard had his satisfaction.

“It happened the night before the alliance deal was to be signed. It had been a heady few months for Moe. The meeting with the partners had surpassed even his imaginings, and a few days later he’d been buttonholed by his boss, who confirmed what Moe had felt in his gut at the meeting: that he’d changed quite a few minds, that he’d made people sit up and take notice, that he’d be getting some very good news in a few months’ time, when new partners were to be named. Moe called his friend Gerard to tell him about it, even before he’d called his wife. After that there had been a whirlwind of meetings, working sessions, a due diligence exercise that Moe-at Gerard’s insistence-had run personally for his firm, and endless lunches and dinners. The next day was the signing, press briefings, interviews, and then off with the missus for a week at a spa. When he got back, the partnership announcements would be made. He had just one more dinner with his good friend Gerard, who had made it all happen.

“Dinner was in Nassouli’s private conference room, adjoining his office. When the waiter had finished serving, it was just the two of them. Well, just the two of them and the state-of-the-art voice-recording system that Gerard had had installed in the room and that was operating flawlessly that night. Gerard got down to business quickly. They had two things to celebrate, he told Moe, not only the signing tomorrow, but also the first piece of business that MWB would bring to Moe’s firm under the agreement. Gerard explained that this was a privately held firm in Colombia, a very old client of MWB, and that their chief executive was very influential with a large group of other MWB clients. They were looking for a capital infusion to finance new plants, new equipment, the development of new distribution channels. They were looking for someone to make an equity investment in their company, and were very excited by the idea of doing business with the venture capital arm of Moe’s firm. Moe was surprised-and pleased. All of their plans had assumed a period of months to ramp up. He was also, naturally, full of questions: who are they, what business are they in, who are the principals?

“Gerard was smiling as he answered, you could hear it in his voice. And why not-it was the culmination of over a year’s worth of patient gardening. ‘Do you want the names we will give your partners, or the real names?’ was his reply. Moe was confused. Gerard said it again, slowly, with no smile in his voice this time, as if Moe were a stupid child. Moe was still confused, but perhaps a little offended by Gerard’s tone. Gerard cut him off. His voice was like a slap. ‘Oh yes, you need things explained two or three times, don’t you?’ On the tape you could hear Moe gasp. But before he could say anything else, Gerard spelled it out for him. The names they’d give to Moe’s firm would be that of a well-known Colombian coffee distributor and its nominal owner. The real principals-the actual owners of the coffee company-were an even better known cocaine cartel and its notoriously violent jefe.

“Moe laughed. His friend was making a joke-a bad joke. There’s a long silence on the tape then, during which I picture Gerard gazing at Moe in a certain way that he had, as if at a turd that had turned up in his wineglass. Moe realized it was no joke. He sputtered, and stumbled for a while. ‘This is ridiculous. You can’t be serious. My firm will never be a party to this.’ Gerard let him babble a bit, then cut him off. ‘I assure you, the documentation on this company is ironclad. It will survive any due diligence, and the return on the investment will be very appealing. Your partners will not know. Unless, of course, you care to tell them. Perhaps you should tell them, Moe. As I think about it, I’m certain that you should. Would you like to do it tonight? Please, use my phone.’ There’s not much on the tape after that. Some sniffling and the sounds of Gerard finishing his meal, that’s all.