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Authors: Lee Lamond

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BOOK: Spoils of the Game
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With everything packed up, Austin turned to Madeline and said, “Okay, I have been thinking about what to do, now that everything is tidy. You said that the biggest obstacle to getting into Switzerland is the need for some road tax sticker. Here is the plan. If you drive me to the Milan airport, I will pick up some big car like a Mercedes. I will take the car up to the border so I can drive through and then get the sticker. That way I can go through with less hassle when I take in the gold. I am guessing that it will take me about two hours for the round trip. Then I will meet you back at the airport, move the gold into the new rental car, and head north. That way you are not involved with the gold leaving the country, and you can say that you and I disagreed on the strategy. After I leave for Zurich, you can go back to France and, if necessary, go back to Paris if the police want to talk to you about Badeau, but I doubt that the French police will get involved. I will see what kind of deal I can put together in Zurich, and once I have done all I can do, I will return either to Antibes or to Paris. Now, let’s try to understand what we are going to do. I proposed that we funnel the value of whatever we have into an account aimed at medical research for children, right? I would love to know who these people or organizations are before I close any deals.”

Austin looked at Madeline to confirm that she understood. It was clear that she was exhausted. In the months he had known her, she had always been well groomed and in control, with a twinkle in her eye. The twinkle was gone, and she did not have the same interest in her appearance. Austin and Madeline had a dilemma. How they had gotten into this mess would be discussed later, but for now Austin could not think of any other option.

“I’ll tell you what—let’s get some dinner and check out,” suggested Austin.” He extended a hand, slowly pulled her out of the chair, and gave her a hug.

“Austin, while you were gone, I went to the hotel lobby and got a late edition of
Il Giorno
, the local paper. On the front page was the story of the three deaths.”

Austin looked at the words printed on the page and the picture of the car as the police had found it. The Italian papers were not shy with the pictures that they showed, but the good news was that they could have showed a lot more and hadn’t. It was clear that Madeline still was uncertain what role she’d played in the deaths. Austin put the paper in his suitcase, claiming that he would look at it later, but what he wanted was to get it away from the very shaken woman. After packing up the car with the gold and the empty jugs, Austin took Madeline to a restaurant on the edge of Milan, near the airport. He got them a table in a quiet corner, but Madeline had little interest in dinner and wanted to be almost anywhere else. After they ordered a light dinner, the conversation continued.

“Austin, I have heard your words, but I must say that I am not an expert on Swiss banks, and I am not sure how all of this will work.”

“I am not an expert on Swiss banks either, but there are a few things that I do know. First, Swiss banks do not care much about the laws of other countries. That is not to say that they are bandits or want to work with bandits—they just want to make investments that meet their criteria. A Swiss bank account is good to have if you are trying to keep your financial activities secret. If you are trying to launder money from the illegal sale of heroin, then maybe it is a bad thing. I don’t doubt that there are hundreds of millions or perhaps billions of dollars that came out of Iraq, Egypt, or one of a hundred dictatorships. God knows they still have money belonging to Jews that died during the war and have been slow to give it back. Let me give you an interesting way that a Swiss account can work in your favor.” Austin reached for a spoon from the table. “I am not sure of all of the facts, but a friend of mine once said he knew of a guy that did this all of the time. Suppose you want to move some money and hide it from the taxman, and you own a small business. And suppose you buy, let’s say, spoons as part of your business activity in Ohio. Now, you can buy a spoon from a company in Ohio for one dollar and almost the same spoon from a trading company in Switzerland for one dollar and five cents. Now, which one would you buy?”

“I guess the one for a dollar.”

“No, you buy the one for a dollar and five cents.”

Madeline looked at Austin, indicating that she did not understand while trying to pretend that she cared.

“Now, my dear Madeline, how much did you pay for the spoon?”

“One dollar and five cents.”

“No, you pay a dollar fifty.”

“You lost me,” said Madeline, trying not to feel stupid.

“You paid forty-five cents more that the agreed price. Where did the forty-five cents go?

“I have no idea.”

“Your Swiss spoon supplier put it into your Swiss bank account.”

“Okay.”

“So when it comes time to do your taxes, what do you identify as the cost of buying raw materials or inventory?”

“One dollar and fifty cents, times the number of spoons.”

“Bingo, you broke the code. You can win by getting the money out of the country and screwing the taxman at the same time. This is a very rough example, and I may not have the ratios right, but it shows how some people might use the system. The dealings of an American company with respect to US tax laws are of no concern to a Swiss bank, and they are happy to help. What you want to do is to work with a real Swiss bank that limits its banking to what happens in Switzerland, and when it must deal with international issues, it deals through intermediary banks. That way your secrecy is much better protected. But in the end, if you are sloppy with your account number, you can loose big time. About twenty years ago, my neighbor bought her kids a used computer from a local distributor and wanted to know if she got a good deal. It was only about one a year old and was, either traded in or brought in for repairs and never picked up. I turned it on and found that not only did she get a good computer with great capability for the time, but she also got a lot of free software that came with the used computer. When I saw the Word application, I checked to see if anyone had left any files, and there were hundreds, including all of the communications between the prior owner and his Swiss banker. I told my neighbor that we should set up an account in a Cayman Islands bank and have the money in the Swiss bank transferred. When the money arrived, we would with draw it out and skip town. If I had been a crook, it might have worked.”

“Austin, your stories are very interesting. I just hope you know what you are doing.”

“Me too, but I will be careful. If I lose my nerve or something, I can bring the gold back into Italy and give it to the postman, the pope, or whatever government office is responsible. I’ll go slow.”

“Austin, you are still playing a game. I don’t know if I will ever feel comfortable with what you are doing.”

Madeline picked at dinner, but in Austin’s eyes it was better than nothing.

It was about eight-thirty when Austin picked up the new rental car. The trip to the border took about an hour, and after paying for his road tax sticker, he returned to the Milan airport and Madeline. Madeline and the car they rented in France were safely waiting in the airport parking lot; for two hours she had read and worried. When Austin arrived, he was concerned about having his actions caught on camera. He rolled down his window and told Madeline to follow him off the airport property before they transferred the gold to the larger car. The Mercedes could easily handle the weight, and there was little indication that the car was carrying anything of value. Madeline still had the pots in her car. It was unclear what was going to happen to the pots. Austin wanted to throw them into a dumpster, but Madeline thought she might use them for flowers or make lamps from them. The pots were innocent enough and definitely antiques. With Austin’s car loaded with the coins, he reached into his wallet, gave Madeline some money, and made sure she was up to the task of driving back to the Riviera. He even suggested that she stop at a hotel and get some sleep, but she claimed she was too emotional to sleep.

“Austin, I am going to tell you something, and I want you to listen to me for once. I can honestly say that I do not approve of what you are doing. My going back to France might have been your idea, but now I am claiming it. You can—and, I am sure, you will—do what you want, but I am through with this venture. I will get you the information that you want, because there is a slim chance that you are right. But other than that, I am done. You are a pigheaded man, and I thought I was very much in love with you, but I am so confused now that I just don’t know.”

For several minutes they stood by their respective cars and said nothing. Austin broke the ice and approached Madeline, putting his arms around her. She wanted to hug back, but she didn’t. Shortly afterward, Austin was heading north, and Madeline was heading south.

 

Chapter 11

Switzerland

Within an hour, Austin was approaching the border of Switzerland. He followed the lane directions for those cars with road tax stickers, and within seconds he was in Switzerland and on his way up the A2 toward Zurich. The discussions with Madeline were lingering in his mind. One side of his brain was screaming at him to just give it up and give in to the Italian red tape. The other side, his business side or perhaps his game side, would not let go. The good news was that he was over the border, driving a car full of gold. Austin checked his watch and estimated that his attorney Andy was in the office, but he called his cell phone to be sure he caught him. Austin had lost track of what day of the week it was, but that didn’t matter to him. As an official workaholic, he never considered the day of the week a limit to pushing the game forward.

“Andy, it’s Austin again,” he said trying to be upbeat. “What time is it there?

“It about four. I took the afternoon off so that I could go to my son’s swimming lessons. It’s about ninety in the shade, and I should melt in about twenty minutes. So what is up with you?”

“Well, Andy, I am in Switzerland now, working my way up to Zurich.”

“Where is the stuff?”

“The stuff, as you call it, is in the car with me.”

“Austin, I thought I told you to put it in a bank.”

“That is what I am doing. I should be in Zurich in a few hours, and I will see what bank wants to talk to me.”

“Okay, okay. I’m not going to become hysterical. Your big problem, Austin, is that I’m your lawyer, and I’m in the dark. I am in the dark because I am not sure what is in your head, and I am in the dark because international smuggling of stuff with a checkered past is not my specialty. I mean, if you come to me with a lawsuit or a DWI, I am your man, but I am out of my league here. I told you I was going to get you the name of an Italian lawyer, and I have, but that now appears to be a waste. Now I feel I need to get you a Swiss lawyer.”

“Andy, what I need right now is a recommendation for a good Swiss bank. Got any ideas?”

“Oh, now you want me to help you violate federal and IRS regulations. My goodness, man, I will be in jail before you are.”

“I need a recommendation and, if necessary, a referral.”

“Okay, check your e-mail. You may get a message from someone you do not know, so don’t go purging your mail until you have checked all of the messages. When you get my bill, you are going to have a heart attack, and perhaps that will slow you down.”

“Hey, I’m fine. I also need a rough estimate of what a Venetian ducat is worth.”

“Do you want me to also shine your frickin’ shoes, or should I start making your hotel reservations?”

“Andy, you are getting cranky.”

“Austin, my wife is telling me that I have to go. Check your e-mail.”

“Wait, I have something more to tell you, and it is important.”

“My wife just told me that my son just made his first dive off the high board, and I missed it because I am talking to you.”

“I will only be one more minute.”

“Okay, what is it?”

“You know those three guys I told you about that knew something about the stuff.”

“Yes?”

“Well, they are all dead.”

“What the hell are you doing over there? Excuse me, Austin, but I sense that things are out of control, and I also sense that I do not want to know.”

“I don’t know if it made the US news, but the three were involved in a murder-suicide that was witnessed by some guy that was nearby. I knew all three of them slightly, and it appears that they had some major disagreement, and …”

“These were the three that you beat up, or whatever you did?”

“Yep.”

“I am begging you to tell me that you had absolutely nothing to do with the deaths.”

“No, nothing, other than that I knew them. The seeds of the deaths began months ago. One of the three was a small-time crook from Marseille, and the other two were art types that got into some shit that was way over their heads.”

“So now the only people that know what you are up to are you and this girl you have been hanging out with?”

“Yep.”

“Well, Mr. Austin Clay, you may have lucked out again, and I still do not know what to tell you. Sooner or later you are going to need a lawyer. I can just smell it. Are you confident that these three took their knowledge of what you were doing to the grave?”

“I am almost positive. You might want to look at the English versions of the Milan newspapers on the Internet to learn more.”

“Okay, I will, but I am beginning to understand that I do not understand anything that you are doing.”

“Hey, look at it this way. I ran to Switzerland to get away from the mob and to protect the gold. If I decide to go back to Italy and give up the gold, it’s because I feel the coast was clear.”

“I refuse to comment. Now, remember to check your e-mail.”

“See ya.”

Any day spent in Switzerland can be very nice, and Austin regretted that he was traveling at night. Switzerland was a country that had preserved its identity, and the Swiss were very particular about who they let settle within its borders. When you visited Switzerland, it became clear that they were very good with money and knew how to market to the world’s rich. It was not a low-cost place to live, but if you had the money, it was a great place to be.

BOOK: Spoils of the Game
9.03Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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