The Darlings (26 page)

“You were semiretired. Which is accurate. You were maintaining some high-level relationships and that's about it. You assumed, as anyone in your position would, that your investment team was handling the diligence work on the outside advisers. It will be helpful if we could find some correspondence between the two of you—Alain and you—that supports the case that you were just relying on him for information.”

“I'm sure there's some of that. There may also be correspondence that, well, perhaps isn't as favorable.”

“Right, there always is. If there's stuff you can remember specifically, let me know; it will make my associates' lives easier when they comb through your e-mails. Look, no one's subpoenaed your records. And I hope no one will, if we cooperate. So we show them what we want to show them, for the time being.”

“What about the rest of the firm? I don't want any of my junior guys getting pulled into this. That's not right.”

Sol nodded. “They want a sacrificial lamb. They may want a sales guy, you know, one who used particularly loose tactics.”

“Not Markus. He pushed back on Alain, all the time. Pain in my ass.”

“Not Markus, then.”

“Richard?”

“Maybe. Let's talk to Neil first, and to Jim. Jim's handling the PR spin.”

Carter nodded thoughtfully. He furrowed his brow. “What about Jane?”

Jane. Finally, someone had said her name.

Sol clenched his fists in and out before answering. “I can't negotiate for her, Carter,” he said, shaking his head. “If I tell them about your relationship with Jane, it's game over. She's too important. She's about to become the head of the Commission. But here's what I came up with. We offer them someone else at the SEC. That way, we preempt an investigation. Again, we play offense so we don't have to play defense down the road.”

Carter paused. His eyes met Sol's. “I'm not sure I understand,” he said haltingly. “You want to volunteer the information that we're in bed with the SEC? Excuse the atrocious play on words.”

“Here's why: Then we control the information flow. That's what the game is about. We go back to the NYAG and say, ‘We've realized Alain wasn't only not doing his homework but he was also actively bribing authorities so that he wouldn't get investigated.' We give them a name, we show them how he did it, they thank us profusely for doing their homework for them. Then we say, ‘Look, we're handing you the whole case on a silver platter. But that is all you get. After that, you stop investigating so everyone can move on.' I promise you, they will.”

Carter shifted uncomfortably. “Isn't that pretty risky? I mean, why would they stop there?”

“Because they want this to be over quickly, too. They want a quick, easy, cheap win. If we cooperate, that's what they get. If we don't, this thing will drag on for years. They can't afford that. They don't have the resources for it, and frankly, the media doesn't have the patience for it. A ten-year trial—can you imagine? They'll look like inept morons. This way, everyone goes home happy; they have their victory, we have ours. It's like tossing a dog some scraps so he won't see the sirloin steak on the kitchen counter.”

Carter felt a chill run down his spine. It was all a chess game to Sol; he saw this now very clearly. It was a brilliant play. Highly risky, of course, and totally illegal. But if successful, they gained much while giving away little. It was a classic deflection sacrifice: Offer up the pawn to save the king.

“Do you have someone in mind?”

“Yes.” Sol said simply. “His name's David Levin. He's a director in the New York office. He was conducting an informal investigation into RCM.” Sol sounded calm, but then Sol knew it was the right move. At least, the tactically correct move. This was the kind of move that got him paid.

“I've never heard of this person,” Carter said. He shifted uncomfortably in his chair. For a moment, he wished he hadn't asked the question. Obviously, there would be collateral damage. But knowing his name made Carter uneasy. “Does he have any connection to anyone at Delphic?”

“No. But he's the person directly under Jane and so he had the ability to quash an investigation. He's the logical person we would have talked to, you know, if we were engaging in that type of thing. We also ran a profile on him and determined that, if push came to shove, he was someone who might be willing to cooperate with us. He's practically bankrupt. His wife died of cancer a few years back, and the medical bills nearly cleaned him out. So it won't be hard to manufacture. There's already a numbered bank account in the Caymans, traceable to him. We give them the routing number, and its exact balance. We'll fund the accounts, but make it look as though they were paid up a few months ago. The transfer records are already in place, they've been backdated. It'll be a number substantial enough to have bought someone off, but not exorbitant. I've got the numbers, just not with me right now. I think we should actually put the money in the accounts for the time being. Even if we never see that money again, it's a worthwhile investment.”

Carter looked quietly shocked. Sol crossed his arms and said, “This is not exactly the time to get moralistic.”

“How did you find him? This David Levin?”

“We've been aware of him for a while,” Sol said. He shrugged. “He started asking questions a few months ago. I know Jane is on top of it from a high-level standpoint, but we were always cautious that someone more junior might get overly inquisitive about the fund. I think Paul may have spoken to him, in fact, on a few occasions.”

Carter nodded. “Ah yes, his name rings a bell.” He frowned. “Let's keep Paul out of this.”

“I'm not sure that's realistic. Or possible.”

“I know Paul, Sol. This isn't going to sit well with him. He's a loyal kid but he's—well, forgive me here—but he's a lawyer. He doesn't have the killer instinct. You know what I'm saying.”

“I know what you're saying. What I'm saying is that may not be real-istic or possible. Paul's not stupid. He has access to a lot of valuable information, whether he realizes it or not. Information that could be damning for you. God forbid he cuts his own deal. He'll take us down.”

“He wouldn't do that. Do you know how much that kid owes me?” Carter shook his head. “He's not got it in him.”

Sol gave a quick nod. “I'll talk to him. But he better be a team player.”

“Let's just cross that bridge when we come to it.”

“Fine. But I'm going to need to talk to him about his conversations with David Levin. For starters.”

“I understand.” Carter took a deep breath and was quiet for a moment. He knew when to back away from an argument with Sol. “Won't he fight it? Not Paul. David Levin. Accusing an SEC lawyer of bribery and fraud seems a bit like throwing water on a hornet's nest and sticking around to see what happens next.”

“Well, yes. At first, I imagine so. But he'll realize quickly that he has neither the time nor the resources to do so, and he will be offered the opportunity to walk away with a slap on the wrist. There's something else about him. He was let go from his law firm before he came to the SEC. It happened just before he made partner. The firm never pressed charges but we understand from a source that there was an incident involving marijuana possession. Suffice to say, he's very lucky to still have his bar license at all.”

“He's a pothead? Fantastic. And people wonder why the SEC can't get anything done.”

“Well, it's a bit more complicated. He claimed it was medicinal, for his wife. Anyway, a few of the partners went to bat for him, and he was allowed to leave quietly.”

Carter's head bowed when he heard this. He was about to ruin this man's life. It was cowardly to paint him as someone who deserved it. Whoever he was, Carter was certain that he didn't.

“He's also dating a woman in his office.”

“What does that matter?”

“Gives him a reason to resign. I suggested that to Jane a month or so ago, when he was asking too many questions. Anyway, the point is that David Levin's got skeletons in his closet, too. He got away with something that perhaps he ought not to have, many years ago.” Sol fell silent as he watched Carter absorb what he was saying. This was a part of his job that he disliked. Typically by the time Sol was pitching an exit strategy, the client was already so far into the woods that they had lost sight of any ambient light long ago. Sol's job was to lead them out of the darkness. This was why he had been hired. Sometimes this required cutting down a few more trees.

“Can I sleep on it?” Carter looked stubbornly childlike, as though perplexed by the weight of it all.

You're too smart for that
, Sol thought.
You know exactly why we're here and what needs to happen now.

“No. You can think about it as you sleep, but the decision has to be made now.”

“What if I fight it? I let them press charges, if that's what they are going to do, and we take them all the way to court?”

Sol shrugged. “You'll lose.”

“Because the jury will hate me.”

“Because the jury will hate you, yes.”

“They'll have seen pictures of my house in East Hampton or of Ines and me at some charity benefit or of the girls riding horses, and that's what they'll judge me on. They'll look at me and see a guy in the custom-made suit and the John Lobb shoes with the team of lawyers and want to throw rocks at me.”

“I wouldn't recommend the John Lobb shoes,” Sol said drily.

“Remember those photos of Martha Stewart showing up to court with her Birkin bag?” Carter's face was stonily serious, but for the first time in days, Sol could hear a glimmer of levity in his voice. “And the fur. I mean, Jesus. Show some fucking humility. Her lawyers should have been shot.”

“Yes, no one ever accused Martha of being well advised.” They both broke into laughter. For Carter, the laughter came out from behind the wall of a very thin dam, which, once broken, overflowed with tears. It felt good, as though his whole body had become a stagnant pond and for the first time in days it was flowing again. He wiped the tears back with an unsteady hand. Shaking his head, he said, “I'll talk to Ines about her wardrobe choices if we go to trial.”

Sol smiled. “Let Ines wear what she wants. Let's talk about the deal.”

Carter nodded. “Right,” he said. “Eli's sure I'll walk away then?”

“Yes. If we play it right.”

“And Paul and Adrian.”

“Adrian doesn't matter. He's just on the client service side, no one would expect him to know anything. Paul, well, Paul we'll have to see about. Let's worry about you first. You're a big fish, Carter. We're going to have to trade a lot for you.”

“I'm not giving them Paul. That will crush Merrill. No.”

“I said we'll talk about it later. I need more information before I can have that discussion. I'm sorry, but that's all I'm going to say about that now. It's just too early.”

Carter paused. He said, quietly, “What happens after?”

“After what?”

“I assume I'll be barred from the financial industry. That would be part of it, right?” Carter's voice broke. “What the hell am I supposed to do with myself?”

“I don't know if that's part of it. But if it is, you have enough money abroad that you'll be fine; they won't touch that. And you and I will work something out.”

“It's not a financial issue.”

“Well, yes, in fact, it is.” Sol said, his patience worn thin. “Bankruptcy is a real issue here, Carter. I know that's hard to hear, but it's something you should factor in to your decision making, not just for yourself but for your family. There's a possibility that you could end up in prison for the rest of your life, and lose everything in the process if you choose to fight this.”

“Forget the fucking money, Sol. I'm sick of talking about money.”

Typical,
Sol thought
. Believe me, it'll be about the money as soon as you don't have any.

“I'm talking about what I do with myself, on a daily basis. I wake up in the morning, and I do what? What would be left for me? My friends will be gone. I won't be able to show my face on Wall Street. Half of the members of the Knickerbocker Club are invested with us.”

“You're being overly dramatic. People have a shorter memory for these things than you might imagine. And you'll have your kids. Become a grandfather. Buy a house in Gstaad where you can teach them to ski.”

“
Maybe
I will have my children. What if they turn on me? What then?”

“I don't think they would.”

“You don't know that,” Carter said hoarsely, and cleared his throat. He shook his head, thinking about his own father.

“I know your kids. They're great kids. They won't walk away from you. I've almost never seen that, even in far worse situations than this.”

Carter's eyes darted nervously around the room. “I can't lose my kids,” he said firmly. “And I'll lose Merrill if anything happens to Paul.”

“You won't lose your kids.”

“Ines will leave. I mean hell, she ought to after what I've put her through.”

“She looked well tonight. I was very impressed with how she's handling things.”

“She was missing an earring. Did you notice that? She only had one earring on. She was missing the left one.” Then, more softly, he said, “I hate what I've done to her.”

“I didn't notice the earring,” Sol said quietly. “Look, it's getting late. And you need to get some rest. Let's take this one step at time.”

“When do we meet with Eli?”

“Saturday. We'll drive into the city as soon as you're ready to go. Neil's flying in from D.C. He pushed up his Thanksgiving dinner actually, so he could come up sooner. Wife's pissed. Anyway. We'll meet with him first, then with Eli in the afternoon.”