Chapter 2 #2
Gunter doesn’t sound desperate, but I recognize the look in his eyes.
I’ve seen it on hundreds of men. I don’t exaggerate.
Between photos from the past, interviews—if you will—I’ve conducted on my own, and the general appearance so many men have when they see or hear about Los Diaz anywhere in the world, I know what desperation looks like.
I cock an eyebrow rather than respond with words. Anneliese shifts next to me, and I swing my gaze toward her.
“Mr. Diaz, we will investigate what happened. We take the integrity of our firm seriously. We do not condone any breaches in our security.”
As I watch her, her forthright gaze tempts me to believe she’s innocent.
As much as I want to look back at her father to see his reaction, I keep her pinned in place, assessing her body language as I continue to observe her.
She doesn’t flinch or withdraw. She doesn’t become defensive.
She remains assertive. Finally, I look away and refocus on Gunter.
It wouldn’t surprise me in the least if he’s the leak.
I skim my gaze over the other three executives in the conference room with us.
“I’ll be in touch.”
That’s as much as I offer before walking out, dismissing them just like I did yesterday.
I make my way directly to the town car waiting for me.
As soon as I’ve given my driver instructions to take me back to the hotel, I slip inside.
Since the privacy glass is up, I once again search the vehicle for any bugs.
This isn’t one of our private vehicles in our fleet back home.
When I’m certain no one can listen, I call Tío Enrique and Tío Matáis.
“What did you discover?”
Tío Matáis is usually pretty easygoing, but he’s pissed this deal blew up.
He rarely lets things bother him except for business.
Anyone who stands in his way or fucks around with our family soon finds out just how unforgiving he is.
Just because he works in an office now doesn’t mean he has any less training than the rest of us.
He earned his position as one of Tío Enrique’s most trusted advisors when they were still in college.
That’s when he met Tía Catalina. His family has been connected to mine in Colombia for a few generations.
He grew up in a Cartel family, but no one else in his family ever became part of the jefe’s most inner circle.
It was his business acumen and his propensity to be overprotective of Tía Catalina that caught my abuelo’s attention.
While they were only dating, he made sure some men who went to university with my tía understood how untouchable she was—is.
It proved how much my tía meant to him. It was the first step to him gaining my family’s trust.
Once Tío Enrique and Tío Luis spent more time with him, they realized he’s an asset to our family. They also discovered Tío Matáis’s father trained him to be ruthless. While he doesn’t go on missions with us often, he does when he has to. He never has to be asked twice.
“Jorge, who else is available to us?”
I know Tío Matáis means what other investment firms could we work with. I rattle off a list of five other names. They’re companies in Berlin, Zurich, and Geneva. There are plenty here in Frankfurt I can check too. We want to expand our holdings anyway and make more legal inroads here in Europe.
“Since I’m already over here, it would be easy for me to meet with any of them, Tío. Do we continue to target the Kutsenkos, or do we find businesses that are unaffiliated?”
It’s Tío Enrique who responds this time since he knows I directed the question to him.
“Both. We look for any viable opportunities. If ones come up that aren’t connected to the Kutsenkos but are advantageous, we pursue those. However, they’re not off the hook yet. Dig deeper.”
“Sí, Tío. I think our best bet is to go with Konig Corporate Finance in Zurich. But I’ll do some more investigating before I set up meetings with anyone.”
Any company willing to name themselves “king” must have some confidence in their account managers. Family name or not, that sets the bar high.
I hang up with my tíos just as we arrive at my hotel.
I knock on the window, letting my driver know I’m ready for him to open my car door.
I head directly to my room and re-examine the printouts Anneliese gave me.
I carried them out with me after gathering them when Gunter entered the conference room.
He probably saw them before the meeting.
But just in case he hadn’t, I didn’t want him to catch sight of any notes.
I’m uncertain whether he speaks Spanish.
I didn’t sense Anneliese did while I reviewed the papers.
I turn on my computer, then head into the suite’s bedroom. I change out of my suit into jogging pants and a t-shirt. I’ve worn suits almost every day for ten years. I hate them. They’re too constricting. I’d much rather be in athletic clothes than feeling like I have a noose around my neck.
My computer is awake and ready to go by the time I sit down.
Not only am I a forensic accountant, but I’m a licensed stockbroker.
I check the numbers in the Asian markets.
It’s still too early for the U.S., so I check some trends I’ve seen with companies that caught my attention when I took notice of both Heidemann corporations.
I analyze the numbers until I’m certain there are ten potential companies of interest. I check to see who represents them and create a dossier on each.
I look for all information available about these companies, which means doing as much digging as I can.
But I know when I reach the limits to my skills, so I send an encrypted email to my oldest brother, Joaquin, since he’s our chief intel gatherer. My brother’s response is almost immediate. He promises to have more information within the next two days.
As the youngest of three, I’m a mixture of the most patient and impatient person in my family.
There were always two people ahead of me to learn and do everything.
I was always impatient to catch up. I learned patience because eventually my turn would come, and from watching them, I was often better than them.
Today, the impatient side wins out. I tap my fingers on the table beside my laptop, but there’s nothing for me to do now but wait.
What could she possibly have to say? I’m propped up against pillows on my hotel bed in Zurich, and an email from Anneliese just came through.
It’s been three days since I walked out of her office, rejecting her firm.
My brother sent me a slew of information last night just before I went to bed.
I took a preliminary glance at it to see if anything needed immediate attention.
I’m reviewing everything now. There’re definitely some prospective companies to invest in. The Kutsenkos own one of them, just like I suspected, but it certainly took Joaquin digging to confirm it.
I click on the new email, surprised by the warm greeting. It immediately makes me suspicious.
Dear Mr. Diaz,
I hope this finds you well, wherever your travels have taken you.
I’ve been thinking about you and regret how things turned out.
I hope you’ve had time to reflect on what I gave you and can see what a good fit we are, even if our initial plans won’t work out.
I’ve been investigating who jeopardized our relationship.
While I can’t disclose anything from within my firm, I can tell you we are steps closer to rectifying this situation.
I hope you’ll reconsider your decision to leave us.
Respectfully yours,
Anneliese
I reread the message as my lips twitch. Maybe something got lost in translation, but there’s certainly plenty for me to read into. It tempts me to respond with an equally innuendo-filled message. While she might not have meant for it to come across as flirtatious, I certainly will.