Swimming with Sharks (60 page)

Nick and Connors again exchanged a brief glance.

“Alex didn’t kill St. John,” Justin said emphatically. “I’m sure that you’ve noticed the police contradicting themselves on TV, right? First, they found fingerprints everywhere and then the gloves. That’s totally contradictory!”

“Show us the e-mails,” Connors requested.

Justin grabbed his backpack and pulled out a few pages. He placed them on the table. The deputy US attorney took the pages and read through them.

“Wow,” he exclaimed and passed them on to Nick. “Incredible.”

“Don’t you believe Alex is telling the truth?” Justin asked.

Connors looked up.

“Yes,” he said grimly. “Yes, now I believe her. Oh, this is going to be one hell of a ride.”

Sergio spent half a day checking in with his connections at the US Attorney’s Office and the police department. No one doubted that Alex had killed St. John out of greed and to cover her tracks. No one he talked to seemed nervous, which could only mean that Alex hadn’t shared any evidence against him. Sergio still had no plausible explanation for how she
had accessed a bank statement from Levy & Villiers, but even if she had run to Kostidis, there was no direct link leading to him. There was no way in hell that the people he bribed would admit to anything because then they’d be finished. There was no evidence. Zack—the only person besides him and Levy who knew the score—was dead. All of the documents that the lawyer from California had in his possession had been destroyed, and he was dead as a doornail.

A sinister smile appeared on Sergio’s face. Zack thought he was smart, trying to cover his ass, but Sergio was smarter. Then his smile vanished. Yes, he was smarter than Zack, but Alex had him fooled. But even she couldn’t hide from him forever. She’d trip up at some point, and he would pounce on her and show no mercy.

Silvio stopped the car at van Mieren’s mansion at the edge of Hempstead on Long Island. Nelson hadn’t left his house for the past three weeks. Sergio knew that his closest confidant was seriously ill, but he’d had enough of Nelson’s wife’s excuses to keep him off the phone. He wanted to hear Nelson explain himself. The situation had turned incredibly complex, and Sergio urgently needed the advice of his friend and lawyer. Carmen van Mieren opened the door.

“Sergio! Come in,” she greeted him warmly and let him kiss her on the cheek. “I’ll tell Nelson you’re here. He’s in bed.”

“Thank you. I won’t disturb him for too long.”

Sergio walked into a comfortably furnished salon with a magnificent view of the lake. A thick fog hung like a cloud over the water. He gazed out at the leafless yard and down to the pier, unable to fend off memories of happier days. They had often sat in this yard and on the jetty, forging their ambitious plans. The children had played in the yard while Carmen and Constanzia prepared meals. Sergio remembered Nelson’s son William’s wedding, which they had celebrated here just one week after the magnificent opening ceremony of the VITAL Building, the steel-and-concrete manifestation of his success. Sergio remembered his sons as
children and reminisced about the many years that he and Nelson had known each other. He and Nelson had been so successful in their work together. They had built an empire that generated billions. Sergio sighed. Nelson was the rock on which he always relied. His loyalty had been unshakable for forty years. Now they were old—older than their fathers ever were. It was time to sit back and enjoy the fruits of their hard labor, but instead everything had fallen apart. Constanzia had left him, Cesare was dead, and—because of Alex—his empire was shaken to its core. Sergio dug his hands into his pants pockets. He stiffened as he thought about her. Alex had humiliated him, wounded his pride, and now had also lied and stolen from him. She’d caused him a crushing defeat. But one lost battle didn’t lose the war.

“Hello, Sergio.”

He flinched and turned around quickly. Sergio was terrified at the sight of his old friend. Nelson must have lost forty-five pounds during the past few weeks. His complexion was unhealthy and gray, and he had dark circles under his eyes.

“Nelson, my dear friend.” He walked toward Nelson and grabbed his hand heartily. “How are you?”

“It probably won’t get any better,” Nelson replied in a hoarse voice. “The doctors tell me to do chemotherapy, but I don’t want it. I won’t get healthy again doing that.”

He walked over to an armchair and sat down clumsily.

“Why are you avoiding me?” Sergio suddenly asked.

“Do I give you that impression?”

“Yes, you do.”

“Maybe you’re right,” Nelson said with a sigh. “I guess I probably owe you an apology.”

Sergio sat down in another armchair across from him.

“I told you once before that I was out if you had the mayor killed. Do you remember that?”

“Yes, you said something along those lines.” Sergio nodded impatiently. “Kostidis is alive and kicking. What else do you want?”

“You had a car bomb planted in his car that killed four people,” Nelson said, “and you lied to me when you said that you had nothing to do with it. I believed you.”

Sergio didn’t bat an eye.

“Since Kostidis was still alive, you sent Natale to the cemetery,” Nelson continued. “I’m also sure that you gave the order to have your own son killed, even though you also denied that to my face.”

He fell silent.

In all of the long years they’d worked together, Nelson van Mieren had admired Sergio’s intelligence, his energy, and his incredible willpower. He had never questioned Sergio’s decisions, even though human beings died because of them. But now he couldn’t do it anymore.

Now that his own death was imminent, perhaps Nelson realized he had chosen the wrong path in life. Their sprawling empire was built on blood and fear. Blinded by success and power, Nelson had gotten used to this. He had never taken anyone’s life personally; he had no blood on his hands. It was merely a means to an end. This was simply part of business, and he never really thought about it—until the night that someone shot at Sergio. That night, he saw both Sergio’s and his own future with shocking clarity. Like the big Mafia families a few decades ago, they were doomed to fail—if they weren’t able to put an end to their dangerous and illegal business dealings. Nelson had tried to convince Sergio, but he was deaf to any argument. Doubts had suddenly crept in, and with those doubts came fear. The Kostidis business ultimately tilted the scales. Sergio still underestimated this man. And that would have disastrous consequences.

“I don’t know whether my nerves got weaker or my conscience louder,” Nelson continued. “I only know that I can’t trust you anymore. You lied to me, and now you even have Luca’s people watching me. That’s not a basis for mutual trust and cooperation, and this is why I’ve decided
not to work for you anymore. I want to spend my last remaining months in peace.”

Sergio remained calm on the outside.

“We’ve walked a long way together and built a successful business,” Nelson said. “I assumed that the times of killing were over, and we succeeded in doing things legally. That was always my goal. But now I’m forced to realize that the past can’t be purged that easily.”

He smiled sadly.

“You can’t do this!” Sergio jumped up. “You can’t just quit like some employee in a supermarket. I need you, Nelson. I can’t do it without you!”

“But you’ll have to in the future.” Nelson shrugged his shoulders. “You know plenty of clever young lawyers who are more ruthless and ambitious than I am now. You’ll find a successor for me.”

Sergio stared at his oldest friend in disbelief. Up to now, he’d thought that he could appease Nelson somehow, but he suddenly realized that his companion had made an irrevocable decision. He was no longer on his side. Sergio’s anger was mixed with serious concern. Nelson knew everything—all of the correlations, all the contacts and cover-ups—as well as he did. Nelson was his strongest support. People like St. John or Alex were replaceable—but not Nelson.

“What are you going to do now? Go to the police?” Sergio forced himself to speak in a disdainful tone. “Will you make your great confession and write a book about your life? Where does this sudden guilty conscience come from? What’s suddenly so different? You’ve become rich and powerful because of me, Nelson. Your family is taken care of. You better than anyone know why I had to do all of this! It’s a jungle out there: eat or be eaten. I’m not suitable prey! I’ve always fought and worked hard. I can’t let some random idiot ruin everything that I’ve accomplished.”

He stared at Nelson with fiery eyes.

“I understand,” Nelson replied in a tired voice, “but I can’t accept the way that you defend yourself anymore. I’m longing for peace and quiet.
I can’t take all the tension anymore. I feel old, burned out. I’m afraid I’ll make mistakes now.”

“You don’t make mistakes.”

“Yes I do! I’ve already made one! I should have forced you to keep your hands off of Kostidis. You felt too secure, Sergio. You never listened to my warnings, and now Kostidis is not only your adversary but your sworn enemy. Believe me, he’s a very dangerous man.”

“I’m not afraid of Kostidis,” Sergio said, waving his hand dismissively.

“You should be,” Nelson replied, “and you know all too well that most of your allies are on your side against their will. As soon as you’re under attack, they’ll quickly forget their loyalty and turn their backs on you. Do you think that Levy will be at your side when you get into trouble?”

“You talk about trouble and problems, but everything’s going great,” Sergio said irritably.

“You’re arrogant,” Nelson said, slowly shaking his head. “Open your eyes for once! You’ve got problems at the port and also at LMI. Why don’t you cut off the illegal parts of your business? How much richer do you want to be? Or are you afraid that someone else could become more powerful than you? Why are you putting everything at risk?”

“I’m not risking anything,” Sergio countered coldly.

“Oh yes, you are. You think that you can move people around like chess pieces. But someone will come one day who’s just as smart and ruthless as you are. You think that you’re untouchable, but you’re not. You’re not above the law. You’ve just been lucky up to now.”

“Who could get to me? Tell me! Who?”

“What’s really going on with MPM?” Nelson sighed. “Who killed St. John? It wasn’t Alex.”

“Who cares as long as the police believe it?”

“You had him killed because he was a threat to you.” Sergio thought he detected a hint of mockery in Nelson’s eyes. “And then you blame your
little girlfriend because she left you—just like Constanzia. Your pride couldn’t take it.”

“That’s bullshit!” exclaimed Sergio, but the truth in Nelson’s words stung.

“Does she know anything about you?”

“No,” Sergio said, but he avoided looking at his friend. “Well, maybe…I don’t know.”

“You’re about to lose control,” Nelson said quietly, “and that’s very dangerous.”

Sergio breathed heavily, trying to control his rising anger. He had always hated asking anyone for anything, but now he was forced to.

“I’ll do anything you say, Nelson,” he said, humbly lowering his head. “I’ve made a few mistakes, but it won’t happen again. You’re right that the bloodshed must end. I beg you, for the sake of our long friendship, don’t turn your back on me now.”

Nelson gave Sergio a serious look. He knew too well how difficult it was for Sergio Vitali to utter such a plea. He felt compelled to reconsider his initial decision for a moment. But then Nelson stood up with a sigh. All he saw in Sergio’s eyes was anger and coldness. Sergio wouldn’t change a thing. His put-on humility was nothing but a tactic.

“Okay,” Nelson said.

“Will you come to the office tomorrow?” Sergio asked. “At least for a few hours so we can talk things over?”

“Yes. I’ll be there.”

Relief washed over Sergio’s face. He hugged Nelson quickly.

“See you tomorrow, my friend,” he said.

Out the window, Nelson van Mieren watched Sergio walk to his limousine and get in.

“Is he gone?”

Nelson turned around. Constanzia Vitali and his wife Carmen stood in the doorway.