The Deal (51 page)

“What do you mean your downfall?” Perry went on.

“It doesn’t matter, Per.”

“If it doesn’t matter then—”

“I can’t!” I snapped at her. “It serves no purpose. Knowing could get you guys fucking—”

My emotions were getting away from me. I couldn’t even bring myself to say the word “killed,” but from the looks on their faces I didn’t need to.

I changed directions.

“I have something for you.”

I reached down, opened my briefcase and took out the envelope I had gotten from L. Then I reached in, pulled out three smaller, sealed envelopes and passed them out according to the name written on each.

“What’s this?” asked Jake.

“Don’t open them. Just put them away and I’ll tell you.”

They did as I said. I continued.

“Each envelope contains an option. One that each of you needs to take a serious look at.”

“What kind of option?”

“You each have a passport in there. And a driver’s license, which is from Alaska but it was the best I could do.”

“Jonah,” Tommy started, “what are we missing here?”

I took a deep breath.

“I can’t tell you, Tommy.”

I was busting. Since the first day I had worked for Tommy Wingate he had been my mentor. I longed for his guidance. It was too late and I cared too much to seek it now.

“This isn’t right, Jonah.”

Perry sounded frightened.

“We’re scared shitless for you right now.”

Her eyes were smoldering. It was killing me.

“I’m telling you to trust me. The less you know the better. I couldn’t live with myself if anything happened to you—any of you.”

Point taken. I barreled forward.

“Andreu Zhamovsky gave us power of attorney over all affairs concerning his real estate dealings in New York City. Correct?”

“Correct.” Jake confirmed out loud for all three.

“What he also gave us was power of attorney over Prevkos’s finances as they related to, and only to, his deal in New York. The deal, in fact, he never planned on making. Andreu granted us this authority thinking the only money he had to worry about was the up-front costs to get the deal going: due diligence fees, good faith payments, stuff like that. What he didn’t ever take into account was that I was in a prime position to work him over if I ever caught on to him. Which, as I just told you, I did.”

“Jonah, what did you do?” Jake asked.

I remained silent.

“You didn’t!” Perry whispered.

Still, I didn’t answer.

“Jonah?” Tommy and Jake chimed in.

“I had no choice.”

“How much?” Jake pushed out, all expression and color having fallen from his face.

I took a sip of my ice water. The next words needed to be unequivocal.

“Nine-hundred and seventy million.”

Silence.

“And change.”

Perry lifted her head.

“How could you do something like this?”

“It’s like I said. I had no choice.”

“That’s the goddamn best you can do?” Perry scowled.

I dropped a restrained fist on the table. Perry jumped back.

“Andreu Zhamovsky tried to walk all over me. In three weeks he’s turned my entire fucking life on its head for things I had nothing to do with.”

I reeled in my voice.

“I didn’t take the money because it is money. I took it because it is his.”

“Did he kill your father?” Perry went on, concern returning to her voice.

“Yes. I mean, he didn’t pull the trigger, but, yes.”

“Meaning what?”

“I can’t get into that.”

“Why was he—”

“I don’t have the time! I wanted to tell you guys what was happening, but I couldn’t. Andreu finding out something was up with the deal would have endangered us all.”

“Jonah, what are you saying?” asked Jake, taking his voice down to a whisper. “Is Andreu trying to kill you too?”

I didn’t respond.

“My God, Jonah,” Perry said as if in a trance, “what’s happening to you?”

I looked into my glass of ice water.

“I’m leaving the country.”

My eyes drifted to Perry’s.

“I’m not coming back.”

“This is completely ludicrous!” Tommy said.

“Trust me,” I went back at him, “it’s not.”

Perry reached out and grabbed my hand.

“There has to be a way to fix this, Jonah. Let us help you fix all this.”

“There’s no quick fix, Per. Not this time.”

“Why did you bring us the identification?” asked Tommy. “Because we’re fucked too?”

“No. I mean—I hope not.”

“Can’t the cash be traced to you?”

“Theoretically, yes. But how hard that’s pursued will ultimately be decided by what matters more to Andreu Zhamovsky. His past or his future. And let’s just say I have a feeling I know which one he’s going to choose.”

“Then why? Why the identification?”

“Because I can’t be one hundred percent sure you’re not in danger. Besides, I wanted to give you guys something. I wanted to make it up to you.”

“With fake federal documents?” quipped Perry, bemused. “Quite a gesture—”

“It’s not fake anything,” I said. “It’s all United States Government authentic, and it’s more than just paper. It’s an option, a second chance should you need one. Or it’s a door to a whole new life if you choose for it to be.”

“Meaning?”

“Meaning I had Carolyn fill out Swiss Nation Partners Bank savings account applications that she overnighted from the post office, with no return address, to a long-time attorney friend of my father’s and mine in Geneva. Secure savings accounts within the borders of Switzerland need to be opened by a well-respected attorney if the institution isn’t familiar with the new client. It’s almost like a vouching thing. Anyway, in no more than forty-eight hours each of you will have a Swiss account worth millions in the name of the person on the identification in your envelope.”

“Christ Jonah!” Perry snapped in a whispery scream. “Stolen cash!”

“The cash isn’t stolen,” I calmly explained.

“Of course it is. You just said—”

“I know what I just said, Perry. I also had Carolyn open a Swiss savings account for Andreu Zhamovsky. I was able to supply my attorney over there with all of his vital information from the papers he gave to us. Don’t worry, his firm’s stolen cash, to the penny
,
will eventually be waiting patiently in the perfect embezzlement account with his name on it. Which should make for one interesting explanation.”

“That doesn’t make sense, Jonah. Then what—”

I put my hand up and cut her off.

“The cash is from me. A one hundred and fifty million dollar life insurance policy left by my father. I’m the sole beneficiary, and I’m sharing it equally with you guys. Thirty-seven and a half million each. This way, if you are forced to take off, you can do so quickly knowing money will never be an issue. You three have worked harder than anyone I’ve ever met for what you have. I threatened to fuck it all up. For that I’m so sorry.”

A dish dropped in the kitchen. I was up before it settled.

“This is outrageous,” sighed Jake.

I shook off a few questioning eyes and returned to my seat.

“The money’s completely legit,” I powered forward. “Swiss law prohibits the financial institution we, under false identities, will be banking with to divulge confidential client information without severe consequences. It’s simply against the law over there. Besides, the money will have come from me, its rightful beneficiary.”

I looked at the time. Sitting still like this, out in the open, was gut twisting.

“Jonah, you can’t just do this. You can’t just leave.”

A nervous tear was forming in Perry’s eye. I leaned over and took her hand.

“I have to go. I have to go right fucking now. I don’t know if I’m saying to you leave tonight and run with your son forever or if I’m saying know this money is there for when you need it. Just be as strong as I know you can be. You owe that to yourself. To your son.”

“Jonah, you know it doesn’t just work like that.”

“Maybe so, Per. Maybe so. But not because it can’t.”

My heart, which had been tearing all day, was finally about to break in two. I stood. The time had come. A quarter came sliding across the table toward me.

“You never know. One of these babies saved my ass.” Jake said.

I smiled, snatched the tiny silver disk and tucked it away. Then I nodded in appreciation.

“Thanks for letting me into your family.”

Outside, not ten feet from the restaurant, my past caught up with me as I turned up Hudson. Perry came running up behind me.

“Jonah!”

I turned around. Her feet stopped just before she reached me. She started to speak but couldn’t. Finally she leaned forward and kissed me. Not like partners. In a way I had only previously dreamed of.

“I’m scared of never seeing you again.”

“I’m scared too, Per. I’m so fucking scared.”

She moved in close, putting her cheek against my chest.

“I’m sorry we never—”

She put her arms around me. I squeezed her back.

“I know, Per.”

Chapter 53

At 5:50
a.m
. the following morning, I was sitting on the twenty-eighth floor of a high-rent property on the East Side. I was alone and sitting on a couch. There were no lights on. It was somewhere between night and dawn. The sun had barely begun to supply enough light to help my eyes. The day hadn’t yet changed from black-and-white to color.

I had only gotten a few shoddy hours of sleep in the cockpit of my tarp-covered roadster that was parked in a Tribeca garage. It didn’t matter. My senses were geared-up, organized. The couch underneath me was soft Italian leather, the artwork was straight out of Chelsea’s most important galleries, and the technology was state-of-the-art. As I sat there, thick, almost sticky smoke swirled all around, above me. The hard-hitting aroma in the room left a pleasant burn as it entered my nose. I could barely hear the city down below, though every couple of minutes I’d hear one of those large, metal sheets they use to temporarily fix streets go bouncing around from a truck.

At 5:55
a.m
. Lloyd Murdoch entered his office through the doorway to my left. He never saw me. He went walking right past me toward his desk. For a few seconds I was just a fly on a shadowy wall, until he stopped and took a sniff of the spicy air. He slowly turned around and for a few seconds said nothing, then:

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”

The fractures in my soul were slowly, surely, becoming complete breaks. I said nothing. On the ground, to the left of my feet, was my briefcase and gym bag. On the ground to my right was Neo who had arrived in Tribeca late the previous night via Crazy Animal Lady. He was sleeping in his bag, which was turned backward. I didn’t want him traumatized by what was about to happen. I was dressed in a wrinkled Blue Canali suit, freshly un-wadded white herringbone shirt, and thick, gold, creased silk Brioni necktie that I made extra sure that morning had the perfect Windsor knot.

“You had to taunt me. Killing him wasn’t enough.”

“How did you get in here?”

“Did watching his head explode make you feel like a big man?”

Murdoch was old school. Hunting me would have been too simple, would have let me off too easy. That’s why, like some gangster thug stuck in the fifties, he decided to come after me in a way that hurt more than any physical pain. By sending the ultimate message; by coming after my own.

Murdoch took a step toward me. I immediately rose to my feet, my arms hanging at my sides. In my left hand was the burning Monte Cristo #2. In my right hand was my gun. His eyes found it. He stopped no more than fifteen feet away.

I raised the cigar to my mouth and took a nice, long pull. I opened my mouth and let the smoke fester in its entryway before blowing it in a cloud. Then I waived him toward his desk with my gun.

“Why don’t you have a seat.”

“Jonah—”

My eyes focused. My arm straightened, stiffened as I pointed the gun dead between his eyes. He froze, unable to either speak or move. For a few seconds I simply lectured, berated him with my eyes. Then I dropped the gun and emptied a round into his thigh.

Following a delayed, primal scream he dropped in a heap. I walked over to him, stood over him then spit on him as he clasped his hands over his leg. Black liquid soaked through his pants and began to seep around his fingers. I kneeled down on one leg. I took a generous drag of the cigar and blew the smoke out evenly, watching as it thinned and eventually evaporated into the air.

“There’s nothing like a Monte Cristo #2,” I said.

I put it out on his cheek. His seared skin crackled, sizzled. The sound that poured from his lungs this time was still coming from the animal within, although this time it was different, more revealing. Now he wasn’t just screaming from the pain. He was screaming because he feared for his life.

“Did you really think I’d let some washed-up old fool crap all over me and my family?”

I put the gun to his head as I placed the extinguished stogie in my pants’ pocket, as not to leave behind any evidence of my presence. As if it even mattered anymore.

“Stand up,” I said.

“Jonah, Please—”

I cracked his nose with the butt of the gun. His head bucked back. Blood streamed down as if a faucet had been turned on. It was running down, around, and into his mouth. I grabbed the back of his head with my left hand and pulled it back. Towering over him I put my eyes five inches from his. His breaths were creating tiny blood bubbles under his nostrils. I pointed the gun at, and pressed the tip against, his crotch.

“Stand up now and sit behind your desk or you get the most extreme of all makeovers.”

Murdoch, whimpering and approaching hyperventilation, managed to begin standing. Soon, probably even surprising himself more than me, he had made it. I sat in one of the chairs in front of his desk, facing him. I started to play with the gun.

“Business is business, Lloyd,” I started, “by the time I leave here in a few minutes you’re going to be dead.”

“Please, Jonah. It’s not what you think—”