Authors: Avi Domoshevizki
New York, October 28, 2013, 5:08 PM
Ronnie spread out the marked contracts he’d received from the
attorneys and read the remarks. He was surprised at how few there were. For a
moment, he felt as if the errors had been purposely inserted to allow the
seller’s attorneys the illusion the contract needed some minor work. The buyer
even took it upon himself to handle any possible future prosecutions. It was
all too good to be legal, he thought, but at the same time realized he couldn’t
possible use that as an acceptable excuse to stop the acquisition process. He
felt defeated, without really knowing why. The contract was good, he’d been
cleared of all suspicions in the patient deaths, the company would sell that
very week at a profit,
he’d
be able to spend some time
with Liah… The door opened and David came in and sat down in front of him.
“I understand you’ve been looking for me this morning. I was in
the middle of a series of appointments regarding the next fund. How can I help
you?”
“I was worried about you. When we spoke on the phone, you
sounded more stressed than usual. I guess I was wrong. I’m happy to see life
goes on and you’re already head over heels busy with fund-raising.”
David lowered his head. “Thanks for your concern, Ronnie. You’re
right. I’m under a lot of pressure as well. Your assault really shook me up.”
Ronnie found it hard to believe the event had indeed influenced
David that much and preferred to get the conversation back on a more formal
track. “I received the TDO lawyers’ legal opinion, and I’m about to send it to
the investment bankers. I believe we’ll be able to sign the acquisition forms
tomorrow or the following day. By the end of the week, this will all be behind
us.”
“Wonderful” — David leaned over the table and patted Ronnie’s
shoulder affectionately — “wonderful. There are deals you should just grab
right away, even if you think there’s theoretically more to be gained. Some
companies just have ‘bad luck’ written all over them. I’m so happy we insisted
you continue to lead the deal.” David rose to leave. When he was by the door,
he turned around and said enthusiastically, “Thank you, Ronnie. Thank you,” and
left.
Twenty minutes later, Ronnie finished writing the email to the
investment bankers, lingered for a brief moment, and then, before he could
change his mind, clicked the send button. The mail was on its way. The
acquisition process had started to roll.
He reached out and grabbed one of the leftover sandwiches from
his lunch with Jim. Then he opened an Israeli news site and began to read. He
didn’t see anything too interesting. He moved on to the gossip section and
read: “Bill Gates Celebrating 57th Birthday, Mahmoud Ahmadinejad Celebrating
56th Birthday, Hemi Rudner Celebrating 49th Birthday, Julia Roberts Also
Celebrating Today, but Nobody’s asking how old she is…”
What is Roselyn D’Angelo doing today?
The question
suddenly struck him.
He logged in to his Facebook account and typed Roselyn’s name in
the search box. To his surprise, he discovered there were only a few women with
that name in the social network. From there, it was very easy to recognize her.
He leaned back and began to read all the posts she’d published for the past
year. If there was such a thing as “an average person” then Roselyn fit the
definition exactly. Most of the posts she’d published were about cake recipes,
photos from social get-togethers with friends or with her grandmother. A boring
and bored girl, the thought passed through his mind, not one to just leave
everything and run off to Central America following a spontaneous, last-minute
decision. Definitely not someone who’d be able to cover her tracks so well the
FBI couldn’t trace her.
Then, about a week ago, her Facebook page had drastically
changed. Magnificent landscape photos from Guatemala were posted daily, along
with detailed and joy-filled descriptions of all the experiences she’d been
enjoying. From the reactions of her girlfriends, one could see how envious they
were of the courage that’d driven Roselyn to simply leave everything and go on
her dream trip.
Perhaps I need to take Liah on such a trip
. Ronnie
smiled sadly while gazing appreciatively at sunset photos taken from the
heights of the Tikal Pyramids. The photos were remarkable, and the stories that
accompanied them were no less impressive. It seemed as if Roselyn had dedicated
a lot of time to their writing. The style was different from the posts she’d
written before her disappearance. Was it possible she wasn’t the one who’d been
writing them? Ronnie grew suspicious — could someone be posting for her,
just so the world would think she’s still alive? He moved on to the New York
White Pages website, and searched for Roselyn’s number. He got lucky this time
as well, and there were few listings. After ruling out addresses in expensive
areas, he was left with only three numbers. He dialed the first.
“Hello, may I speak with Roselyn?”
“Who wants her?” an angry man’s voice barked at him.
“Is this Roselyn Romero’s house?” he asked. The call was hung up
abruptly. He dialed the second number and repeated his request.
“Roselyn’s in Guatemala, on a trip,” explained a tired voice.
“Who’s asking for her?”
“My mother was admitted in the orthopedics department. I went
there today to thank Roselyn on her behalf, for the wonderful treatment, and I
was disappointed to find out she’s no longer working there. Could you give her
my thanks next time you talk to her?”
“She doesn’t call much. Yesterday she suddenly called, but only
for a minute or so. You know, calls from abroad cost a lot of money,” the old
woman answered with a sad voice.
“I understand. Have a good night.”
“What’s your name?
Just in case she calls.”
“It doesn’t matter. I wouldn’t want you to waste one of the rare
telephone conversations you have in talking about me.”
“It was nice talking to you, sir. Good night.”
At least I know she’s alive
, he thought while flipping
through the pictures again. Suddenly, he stopped, returned to the beginning of
the Guatemala album and went over all the photos one more time. Roselyn didn’t
appear in any of them.
Ronnie rubbed his face with his hands, trying to maintain his
concentration.
How come I didn’t notice that before? The photos are amazing.
So amazing, they look like Guatemala tourist office brochures.
And the descriptions?
It seemed Roselyn had plenty of time
for writing — too much time for someone who’s travelling
… He opened a
Google search page and typed “Tikal.” The screen was flooded with links to
dozens of websites describing the ruins. Ronnie began to go through the various
websites, when suddenly a photo of a beautiful sunset caught his eye.
The same photo that appeared on Roselyn’s Facebook page.
Ronnie felt the adrenaline level in his blood rising. He dialed the young woman
who sat at the building’s reception area in the evening.
“Do you have a Facebook account?” he surprised her by asking.
“Yeeess, why?” wondered the young woman.
“How can I communicate with someone on Facebook without anyone
else seeing it?” He sounded old and out of touch to his own ears.
“In a message,” she sounded confused. “If you send someone a
private message, she or he would be the only one who could see it.”
“Thanks. You’ve been very helpful.” He disconnected the call and
began to write a message to Roselyn:
“My name is
Ronnie Saar. I know you’re hiding. I also know you switched the dates of the
operations because you were threatened and perhaps also because you received
some money. You can’t continue to hide. They’ll find you in the end. Your life
is in danger. I can help you. Open a new Gmail account under a random name and
send me an email at [email protected] Please do that quickly and make sure
you’re not being followed. If you Google me, you’ll find out I can be a
wonderful ally.
Awaiting your reply, Ronnie.
P.S.
Please delete this message the moment you read it. You can never be too
careful.”
Ronnie sent the message, created the Gmail account to receive
her email and turned off the computer.
Now all that was left was to hope she made the right decision.
New York, October 29, 2013, 1:32 AM
It was way past midnight, but Ronnie was unable to sleep. He
stared at the list he’d just finished writing.
I’m missing something
, he
thought,
but what exactly?
During the late evening hours, he’d spoken
with the TDO lawyers. “Tell me again what were your findings regarding the
Luxembourg company,” he opened with a determined tone that was the exact
opposite of the helplessness he felt.
“Like we told Jim, we didn’t have enough time to—”
“No need to cover your ass with legal niceties. Just tell me
what you think,” Ronnie snapped.
“O-K,” the lawyer said, drawing out the word slowly. “OK, let’s
see now. The company is beyond reproach. It has never been prosecuted, its
articles of association seem organized and legit, and in a conversation I had
with a man I know and trust who works with tax authorities, I’ve been told its
managers file their reports regularly, pay their taxes on time…in short,
everything’s flawless.”
“But?”
“Who said there’s a ‘but’?”
“Don’t…” Ronnie restrained himself from bursting out again.
“Sorry, but I feel there’s a ‘but.’ I’m certain there must be a ‘but.’ All I ask
you to do is share your gut feeling about this one. Off the record, if that’ll
make you more comfortable.”
The silence that followed stretched Ronnie’s nerves to the edge
of pain.
“Off the record?”
The lawyer made sure.
“Off the record.”
“Even though everything’s legal, the ownership structure is very
complicated for a company whose sole purpose, to sum up its definition in the
articles of association, is ‘the buying and selling of promising hi-tech
companies.’ The ownership structure of the company is more complex than the NSA
org chart. I tried to dig all the way to the bottom, but each time I managed to
scratch one layer, it only revealed another layer of ownership. After three
layers, I just stopped digging. It’s completely legal, but at the same time,
very strange.” The lawyer stopped talking.
“So what you’re saying is that someone put a lot of effort into
hiding the real identity of the owners?”
“Yes, that’s the idea.”
“The investment bankers we met with claimed the purpose of the
acquiring company is to serve as a buffer that will prevent the final buyer’s
name from getting into the deal, in order to protect the purchasing company’s
stock value. This could explain the secrecy, couldn’t it?” Ronnie spurred on
the lawyer.
“Maybe, although I can’t really see the logic.
The moment the buyer is not holding, if I’m not mistaken, more than fifteen
percent of the Luxembourg company stock capital, it is not financially
connected to it and does not need to report it to the authorities. On the other
hand, if it holds more, no matter how many levels separate them
it
has to report it. Even if we assume the real
buyers want to be extra careful, the number of ownership layers is bordering on
paranoia.” The lawyer chuckled.
“Thanks,” said Ronnie,
then
promised,
“Don’t worry. This conversation will remain between the two of us.”
The lawyer’s words strengthened Ronnie’s suspicions, but he also
recalled David’s and Liah’s pleading that he drop the subject. He knew they
were right, but he also knew he wouldn’t be able to stop digging before he
fully understood what had happened in the last two weeks. He took a blank piece
of paper from the printer and wrote down all the subjects that bothered him.
Then he stared at the list and read it again and again.
Who is the
mysterious buyer and why is he hiding?
Why did he
present us with such a generous offer?
Why did they
physically intimidate me and not rely only on the generous offer?
Who helped Roselyn
disappear and will I be able to make her come out of her hiding place? Am I
risking her life just to satisfy my curiosity?
Is my
curiosity endangering Liah as well?
Can I trust
David? Henry? Jim? Brian?
Why is Evelyn
so
concerned/angry
?
What is Brian
doing in Philadelphia?
How could a
medicine that underwent so many test trials be the cause of the death of two
patients?
Why did
Mentor rescind their offer?
Why is
everyone who has invested in TDO — and should understand the potential inherent
in it — so determined to sell it at any cost?
What happened
to Christian? Was it truly a simple case of suicide? Was someone really
following him in Waltham?
Why doesn’t
the Bedford electric company have records verifying Christian’s wife’s call?
Why does Jim loathe
Brian so much? Perhaps he’s right and I refuse to see the uncomfortable truth
only because Brian helped me?
Are Henry’s
gambling habits related to the subject? Were the problems caused by his financial
difficulties? Perhaps they even got confused and meant to break Henry’s knee?
Where did
Gadi disappear to for three days?
Who is the
Chinese guy with the Phi Beta Kappa ring who attacked me? Was it the same man I
saw at the hotel where Christian was found dead? Was it the same man who
followed us in Waltham?
How did my
name appear in the
directors
registry before I’d
signed the paperwork?
Over-efficiency of someone in the fund?
Who? Why? Does it have anything to do with this entire disaster?
Can I trust
Archibald Bukowski? Is it possible that the moment I expose my suspicions to
him, he’ll drag me right back into the swamp as the main suspect?
Why did the
investment bankers give us such a tight deadline? What or who are they afraid
of?
Who is
sending me text messages? Are his intentions positive? Or is he merely trying
to prevent me from seeing the real picture? Where is he drawing his information
from? Why does the tone of the messages keep changing?
Was the
process of safeguarding the medicine properly followed, as it was explained to
me? Perhaps someone found a breach in the process and was able to use it? What
was that breach?”
Finally, why
is all this happening to me?
Bad luck?
A conspiracy?
Ronnie was too tired to think clearly, and the pain in his leg
didn’t help any, either.
He swallowed another pill and slowly returned to bed, careful
not to wake Liah.
So many unanswered questions,
he thought
, and I
haven’t even touched the biggest one of all: What’s bothering you, Liah?