Geneva Connection, The (32 page)

Baumgart arrived at Tritona’s offices at his usual time. He hadn’t heard about the broadcast from Washington which had gone out long after he’d gone to bed and he’d yet to check his messages. As he drove into the car park, a small convoy of police cars drove in behind, blocking the exit. Baumgart opened his car door then fell back into his seat when he saw the squad of armed police surrounding him.

“Get out of the car and down on the floor!” shouted the senior officer in charge.

Baumgart, his face paling by the second, put up no resistance and did what he was told, lying face down on the car park. “What’s this about? I have done nothing wrong.”

One of the officers put his knee between Baumgart’s shoulders, pulled both arms round behind his back, and strapped on handcuffs. It took three officers to haul his large frame from the tarmac and push him in to a waiting police van.

Other armed officers began to file into the Tritona building. Kulpman was watching the whole thing from a second floor window. The moment he saw Baumgart being forced to the floor, calmly he walked down the emergency staircase at the back of the building and left from a rear door. He disappeared into the woods nearby.

Jivaro was enjoying a few days at his summerhouse in Mazatlan. He’d been entertaining potential new suppliers when he heard the news of the press conference. He missed the conference himself, but was given a blow-by-blow account by one of his lieutenants. In his rage, he vowed he would have Merriman’s head and those of all his family for this.

“He’s no idea what he’s started,” he shouted. “If he wants a war, he’ll have one.”

Jivaro had to move rapidly. His enemies would exploit this setback unless he responded quickly and dramatically. He ordered his people to obtain a complete list of the assets seized by the DEA. No details had been released at the news conference, so he needed to establish how much of the cartel’s wealth was still safe before deciding how to respond to the Americans’ attack.

Next, he instructed his chief enforcer, Miguel Rios, to do whatever was needed to find out which of his lieutenants had collaborated with Merriman.

“Suspect everyone and spare no one until you find out who has done this,” he barked down the phone to Rios. “I want the traitor’s head.”

Rios couldn’t wait to get started. He’d find the collaborator and personally deliver his head to Jivaro. Already, he had his suspicions as to which of the lieutenants might have talked. He told his henchmen to grab three of the most likely candidates and to take them to the cartel’s offices in Tijuana for interrogation. He ordered them to be held until his arrival as he would take personal charge of the interrogation process.

Later that day, under the cover of darkness, Kulpman returned to Tritona’s offices as instructed by Jivaro. A police patrol car sat in the front car park. Two officers were in the car, monitoring the building. Kulpman crept closer to the car, keeping to the shadows. He crouched down next to the rear fender and took out a silenced pistol from his jacket pocket. He jumped to his feet and fired two bullets each into the heads of the police officers.

Kulpman waited a few moments to make sure there were no other patrol cars watching the building. Once he was certain he was alone, he let himself into the offices where he used a flashlight as he walked around the dark rooms. No files had yet been taken; everything appeared to be in its place. No doubt, the offices would be emptied by the authorities over the next few days. Behind the office block, he walked across to the storage unit used by the grounds-men to keep their lawnmowers and gardening equipment. He picked up two large cans of gasoline, took them back to the offices, and poured the fuel over the filing cabinets. Standing back, he lit a cigarette and threw it onto the liquid before disappearing into the woods. Walking away, he could feel the warmth of the flames at his back.

Chapter 47

K
ENT
C
ALLED
H
IS
P
ARTNERS
together for the dreaded meeting first thing Monday morning. From their conversations, he could tell they thought the meeting was about the recently canceled FCA visit and, maybe, to discuss the feedback from his detailed file reviews.

Kent looked at Tara as he struggled to choose his opening words. “Tara, there’s no need to take any minutes, but you’re welcome to stay. This affects you as much as everyone.”

Those few words, and Kent’s somber tone, caught the attention of everyone in the room. Immediately, they quieted down and turned to him, anxious to learn more.

“This is a very difficult and shocking matter,” he said, looking round the conference table. He cleared his throat. “There’s no easy way to put this.”

“Don’t worry,” said Johnson. “We know all about Doug Wright. No doubt the FCA will send someone else to audit us once they’ve replaced him.”

Kent wished this was just about Wright’s death. “Sadly, it’s something much worse than that, I’m afraid.” Johnson looked confused, but before he could say anything, Kent continued. “CBC is finished.” There was absolute silence in the room as Kent paused. He collected the penetrating stares of his partners. “Over the weekend, I received a call from the Drug Enforcement Administration in the US.”

“Why on earth would the DEA call you?” asked Johnson.

Kent held up his right palm. “I’m trying to explain.”

“Sorry.”

“The DEA informed me they’d seized, with immediate effect, all of the assets managed by CBC.”

Kent took a sip of his coffee, buying enough time to choose the right words. By the look of the stunned faces around the boardroom table, he wasn’t sure it mattered much to them how he explained things. What did matter, however, was how this played out to anyone still listening in to this conversation. They had to hear how Kent and his team were shocked by news of the DEA’s seizure.

“I know it’s hard to believe,” Kent continued. “It sounds incredible, but it transpires the funds we’ve been investing on behalf of Tritona are actually criminal proceeds from the sale of illicit drugs in the US.”

Johnson looked ready to explode. “What? That makes no sense at all.”

“You’re saying Tritona is involved in the drug trade? That can’t be right,” said Kirkland while the others shook their heads in disbelief.

“My reaction was the same, Joanna. I’m still shocked,” replied Kent, convincingly. “The DEA explained that Tritona has always been a corporate front for a Mexican drug cartel called Caruana. Apparently, this cartel is the most powerful organized crime group in the world. Much of their wealth was channeled through Tritona and, from there, into legitimate investments, most of which have been acquired and managed by us. We have, unknowingly, become a critical part of their money-laundering activities.”

Long looked as if he was about to have a nervous breakdown. “I did the compliance checks, and they all came out fine. We would have picked up anything suspicious. We’re talking about some of the best known families in Europe behind Tritona, for God’s sake.”

“I said the same thing, Kevin. But the truth is the families don’t exist, at least not as investors in Tritona.”

Long looked beaten. “That’s impossible. How can—”

“We were duped. The DEA said anything we received from Tritona, verifying their identity and those of their so-called investor families, would’ve been a forgery.”

Kent was bombarded with questions as the implications of what he’d just shared became clear. Were they all about to be arrested? What would now happen to the assets which had been managed by CBC? Would this story be all over the press in the morning? Would they be sued?

Kent waited for a break in the questioning. “All I know at this moment is the DEA has seized the assets. Legally, they’re no longer under our control. We shouldn’t deal with them in any way or else it would appear as though we are trying to interfere with the legal process.”

“So, what do we do, sit on our hands?” asked Johnson. “There must be something we can do.”

“The DEA may want some assistance from us going forward, but our involvement will be purely administrative, helping them to understand the files we have and assisting in the handover. That’s all.”

“This is bound to be all over the press,” said Long. “We’ll be torn to pieces by the media.”

“The only official PR they’re putting out concerns the cartel and Tritona. But, you’re right, Kevin. It’s likely the press will pick up on the story since it’s well known Tritona is our most important investor.”

Johnson buried his head in his hands. “This is a complete disaster.” Then he looked at Long. “How the hell did we let this happen?”

Kent could not allow Long to take the heat for this. “We’re all responsible for this nightmare. I’ve been assured by the DEA that CBC is under no suspicion. They regard us as a victim in all of this, which is exactly what we are. It’s important we get that message out there when we’re speaking to the press.”

Kent’s performance was convincing. It had to be for the cartel. He had to assume they were monitoring everything. CBC was definitely not the source of information for the DEA.

“The UK authorities will be all over us,” Kirkland said. “We thought the FCA’s investigation was going to be tough. That would be a walk in the park compared to what they’ll hit us with now.”

“The FCA and the police will want to crawl all over this, Joanna, and rightly so. We’ve nothing to hide. Remember, we’re victims in this.”

“That doesn’t make it feel any better,” she said.

“You’re right. The truth is we’ve lost everything. Our business will fail.”

“Dead right,” said Johnson. “This has killed our business and shredded our reputation. We’ve been working for a drug cartel for Christ’s sake. It doesn’t get any worse.”

The remainder of the meeting focused on how to handle the expected press inquiries, how the staff would be informed, and agreeing what legal advice ought to be taken by CBC in order to deal with the whole thing properly. The FCA would expect no less. The partners concluded they’d be tied up for weeks winding down the firm and handing over the management of the assets to the DEA, so they could be sold by the US government. All for no reward and for the pleasure of being mauled by the press.

Kent could do nothing to change the reality of the situation for his colleagues. There were no words or hope to offer them to soften the blow. He, at least, had the comfort of knowing he’d tucked away the investment in HS1. All of the necessary documentation was now in place, and it was beyond the reach of Merriman and the cartel. When the dust settled on all this, he’d still be a very rich man.