Christopher Reich - Numbered Account

“We have over three thousand accounts under our discretionary management,” continued Maeder, ignoring his colleague’s fretful mumbling. “Over six billion Swiss francs of cash, securities, and precious metals under our direct control. We can buy and sell on the client’s behalf as we please. Simply stated, we must reconfigure the portfolios of our discretionary clients. Sell off some underperforming stocks, get rid of some bonds, and use the proceeds to buy every last share we can find of our own stock. Pump those portfolios full of United Swiss Bank class A equity.”

“We can never do such a thing!” protested Schweitzer.

Maeder granted Schweitzer a single sidelong glance, then went on as before. “Most of our discretionary clients ask that all mail be held at the bank. If they visit the bank, it’s once, maybe twice a year. They’ll have no idea what we’ve done with their accounts. By the time they check their portfolios, we’ll have defeated the Adler Bank, sold off our own shares, and reconfigured their portfolios just as they were before. If one of them does find out, we’ll just say it was a mistake. An administrative error. It’s not as if they can contact another account holder. They’re anonymous—to the outside world and to one another.”

Nick shuddered involuntarily. What Maeder was proposing was grossly illegal, fraud on a gargantuan scale. They were taking all their clients’ chips and betting them on black.

Schweitzer removed his jacket. His shirt was soaked through and clung to the crook of his back. “I am this bank’s director of compliance and I forbid it. Such actions constitute a violation of the most fundamental of banking laws. The funds in a discretionary account are not ours to do with as we please. They belong to our clients. Our duty is to invest their money as if it were our own.”

“Why, that’s exactly what I’m proposing,” said Maeder. “We’re investing their money as if it’s our own. And right now, we need to buy shares of USB. Thank you, Armin.”

Ott pulled an oily grin at his cohort’s sarcasm.

Schweitzer appealed directly to Kaiser. “To appropriate their funds to buy up our own shares is madness. They’re trading at an all-time high. Their value is grossly inflated. When we defeat Konig, the share price will plummet. We must follow the strategic investment guidelines promised our clients. It’s the law.”

No one paid Schweitzer’s argument an ounce of attention. Least of all Kaiser. The Chairman averted his gaze from the offending party. He didn’t say a word. Nick imagined Sylvia sitting at the table with them. What would she say? Would she be in favor of going this far? Several times he’d caught a glint of steel in her eye—something unmerciful, cruel even—and he thought that maybe she might. Another image of Sylvia provoked in him a sudden, intense flush of sexual excitement, and because of his surroundings, it both thrilled and annoyed him. Sylvia sat astride him, slowly moving up and down. He saw his hands on her breasts. He caressed them gently and felt her nipples harden under his touch. He was deep inside her. She drew his hand to her mouth and longingly licked his fingertips. She moaned again, louder this time, and he was lost in her pleasures.

Feller’s voice interrupted his reverie. “One question. After we defeat the Adler Bank, don’t we risk losing many of our clients if we’re unable to show a gain in the value of their portfolio?”

Maeder, Ott, and then even Kaiser broke into a hearty laugh. Feller looked to Nick, who returned his mystified gaze.

Maeder answered the question. “True, we’re expected to report modest gains, but preservation of capital is our real goal. Growth beyond the rate of inflation of each portfolio’s base currency is… well, let’s say growth is an afterthought. After we defeat Konig, our shares may suffer a temporary decline. I’ll grant Armin that much. Consequently, we may be forced to report a minor loss in the value of our clients’ portfolios. Not to worry. We’ll assure them that next year promises to be much better.”

“We may lose a few clients,” said Kaiser. “But it’s a damn sight better than losing them all.”

“Well said,” chipped in Ott.

“And if the Adler Bank wins control of the bank?” demanded Schweitzer, unappeased. “Then what?”

“Win or lose, we’ll set the portfolios back to how they stand today,” explained Maeder flippantly, to everyone but Schweitzer. “If Konig wins, the share price will remain high. He can take credit for the gains his takeover provided his newest clients. For him, it will be icing on the cake!”

Kaiser slammed his hand ferociously upon the table. “Konig will not win!”

For a few moments, everyone was silent.

Ott lifted his scholarly head, speaking as if to remind his assembled colleagues of a minor inconvenience. “Should word of our activities leak, I need not mention the consequences.”

Schweitzer laughed rudely. Down but not defeated.

“Three square meals a day, a few hours of exercise, and a well-heated room, all at government expense,” joked Maeder.

“Nothing could be worse than being owned by the Adler Bank!” exclaimed Feller, gleeful in his role as coconspirator.

“You idiots,” Schweitzer spat out. “A two-year stint in the St. Gallen penitentiary is hardly the vacation Marty describes. We’d be ruined. Disgraced.”

Kaiser paid no attention to his director of compliance. “Rudy has brought up an important point. Word of our plan can never leave this room. All buy and sell transactions will be routed through the Medusa system. Our eyes only. Can I rely on every man here to guard his silence?”

Nick watched each man nod, even Schweitzer. The sum of their surroundings—the cavernous room occupied by so few men, the haunting echo of their voices, the imposing table at which they sat bunched up in a tight arc—cast a mantle of evil on their planning that far exceeded the first whispers of fiscal larceny, no matter how sophisticated. Suddenly, he found the full bore of their eyes upon him. He clenched his jaw to mask the doubt lurking so close behind his eyes. He nodded his head once.

“Good.” Kaiser’s eyes remained fixed upon Nick. “This is a time of war. Keep in mind the punishment for treason. Believe me, it stands.”

Nick felt the man’s cold eyes drilling into him. As the newest member of Kaiser’s inner circle, he knew that the words were directed at him.

The Chairman expelled a heavy sigh, then continued in a lighter tone. “As I mentioned, I’m in touch with an investor who may be willing to purchase some shares on the bank’s behalf. He’s an old friend and I feel confident he can be convinced to take a five percent stake. The cost, however, will be high. I’m proposing we guarantee him a ten percent gain over ninety days.”

“Forty percent per annum,” shouted Schweitzer, again at odds with his Chairman. “That’s extortion!”

“That is business,” said Kaiser. He turned to Maeder. “Call Sepp Zwicki on the trading floor. Begin a program of share accumulation. Hold the shares for two-day settlement.”

“Will two hundred million francs’ worth do the trick?” asked Maeder.

“It’s a start.”

Maeder grinned at Nick and Feller, clearly excited by the challenge before them. “We’ll have to sell off one shitload of stocks and bonds to reach that amount.”

“We have no alternative,” said Kaiser. He shot up from his chair, beaming like a man given a last-minute reprieve. “And Marty, tell Zwicki to short Adler shares. A hundred million worth. That ought to give Konig a minute to think. If he loses this battle, his investors will crucify him!”

How did I get drawn in so deep?