He let out a slow breath, weighing what I’d said. “Sweetheart, you don’t have to pull the trigger. It’s all on me.”
“That’s not what this is about, Max.”
He didn’t look convinced, and that irritated me more than I knew it should.
“You want a whole load of finance guys who thought they were blowing the whistle on the kind of billionaires who caused the banking crisis turning up dead?”
“They won’t turn up dead. They’ll go permanently missing.”
“Oh my God, Maxim, that’s not the point I’m trying to make.”
He shook his head. “Sweetheart, I don’t think you understand-”
“Don’t you damn well Sweetheart me, Max. You haven’t even thought this through. If you could get them on your side, instead of working against you-”
“These moral do-gooder bankers?”
“Max. I’m serious. Maybe they’re not moral. But they clearly need money or they wouldn’t have done anything for the bribe Sutherland gave them. That’s my mum’s money he used, right there, in black and white. I think I should at least get to see whether there’s any salvaging it.”
Maxim let out a strained groan and he rubbed his hands over his eyes. “Christ almighty. Why am I letting you talk me into this?”
“Because you love me. Because deep down you know I’m right. And they are way more useful to the Bratva alive and on side. Your money guy has to start all over again if they disappear and it gets investigated.”
“You’re saying someone new would trace it back.”
“Well it can’t be that bloody hard, can it? Not if Sutherland did it. He’s not exactly some kind of deep forensic journalist.”
He let out a sigh. “Let’s talk to Valentin.”
“Thank you, Max. I just think it’s worth looking into.”
CHAPTER 29
Maxim
Valentin opened a three way call, and Roman Dvornikov came up onto the other half of the screen, clearly on his yacht somewhere in Florida waters, while Valentin was, as usual, in his Moscow abode.
Roman’s Slavic accent had softened with a Miami accent. The guy had settled in the sunshine, putting his percentage of each transaction to good use creating the kind of lifestyle he wanted. I didn’t blame him, but it wasn’t the kind of life I craved. I’d always preferred getting my hands dirty to messing around with spreadsheets and paperwork and pretending they were clean.
Still, I’d always liked the guy, and he knew what he was talking about.
“The issue is, guys, I’ve had to find a work around. Offshore accounts aren’t as anonymous as they used to be. You can’t rock up and slap enough cash down to make them give you a numbered account with no name attached these days. So we have to bounce it through companies owned by other companies, make the paper trail complicated, bounce the cash from country to country. But, yeah, we need guys like Alaman in The City, in London, in Geneva… Singapore it makes it a little easier. The Caymans have their own challenges… There are some other countries that haven’t been stung by governments throwing their weight around, but it’s still tricky. I’m looking into Bitcoin, but we’ve got a lot of assets tied up in currency, and more solid forms. Art, real estate. Solidifying and diversifying our wealth is the best way to keep us running.”
Valentin nodded slowly. “I understand this. It’s why we have the art dealership, and the cultural charities.”
Dvornikov nodded. “To legitimize everything.”
“Exactly.”
Elizabeth gave me a pointed look. “So, I’m right. You need these guys in the chain?”
Valentin’s face remained poised in an open question, and I could see Roman tense up, his tanned, muscular arms bunching.
“Need is a strong word. They are a necessary part of the way we currently launder our assets, and I’ve underestimated how much of a weak point they are to be exploited.”
“She’s right. Why were we not paying them off to begin with? I pay you to manage this, yes?”
“Valentin. These people have scruples. I mean, I assumed they did. It’s different to Russia in these places, they don’t expect to be bribed. It can come across badly, and then we would have opened ourselves to even more scrutiny if they decided they were duty bound to report it. He works for the Union Bancaire Privee for Christ sake.”
My eyebrows rose. “Swiss banker?”
“Da. He is a Swiss Banker.” The irritation in Valentin’s voice was crystal clear to me, and I had no doubt Elizabeth could hear it too.
Roman’s teeth were gritted and he didn’t look as relaxed as he should have been, given the blue, blue sky in the background. “They’re supposed to be like priests. Anything you tell them is sacrosanct and they take it to the grave. Switzerland doesn’t take kindly to bankers who decide to sell information.”
I nodded. “So we give them his name and they get rid of the problem for us.”
Elizabeth lifted her hand. “I’m sure you took a calculated risk. But we know they – or at least Alaman’s open to bribery now. We know he needs money. So, we can buy him, can’t we? He doesn’t care about the Swiss banking code if he’s selling secrets that could get him fired to journalists.”