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"I disagree with your use of the phrase 'your exposure.' As best we can tell, Herr Dorfman was in no way acting as an officer of this bank while he managed these various accounts."
"Herr Koenig," Shvets said with a sad laugh, "you and I both know that will not stand up. Those deposits may not have sat in your vault, but you had an officer of this bank who was managing on a daily basis a minimum of forty-seven million, and quite possibly more. This bank earned fees off that money..."
"But--"
"Please let me finish, Herr Koenig. I am not here to assign guilt. I am here to catch whoever took this money so we can get it back to its rightful owners."
Probably for the first time since midmorning, a touch of color returned to Koenig's face. "As there always is in these situations ... a financial forensic investigation is under way."
"How long will it take to complete?"
"It could take some time."
"Please be honest with me. I am going to head back to Moscow tomorrow and the men I work for ... they are not nice. They could never have a conversation like this. They would much prefer to strap you to a chair and attach things to your testicles, so I suggest you tell me what you know." Switching to a friendly tone, he added, "Then I can go back to them and tell them you are a reasonable man. Someone we can trust."
Koenig struggled with what he was about to say and then blurted it out. "I'm afraid we will never find that money."
"Why?"
The banker threw his arms out. "It has been spread to the wind. I have never seen anything like it in all my years. The initial round of transfers was executed via fax in three waves. They came from all over the world."
"Where?"
"Hong Kong, San Francisco, New York, London, Berlin, Paris, Istanbul, Moscow, New Delhi..."
"Moscow?"
"Yes."
"I would like to see the faxes."
The banker shook his head.
Shvets sighed, "Ohhhh ... why must we do this the hard way? Herr Koenig, I know where the accounts were held. Your branch in Geneva. You are not as innocent as you would like me to believe. You will show me those faxes, and if you don't, some people will come visit you in the middle of the night and do to you what was done to Herr Dorfman."
Koenig swallowed hard. "I think I can make that concession."
"Good. Now why do you say we will never find the money?"
"My legal counsel has informed me that not a single bank that we transferred the money to today has consented to our request for information."
"Certainly there's a way."
"It would involve years of lawsuits, and even then you would be lucky to track down a fraction of the funds."
"Well, maybe you need to turn up the pressure." Koenig watched as his words seemed to have the opposite effect from the one he'd intended.
Koenig stiffened. "I should warn you that a faction of the board feels very strongly that this is dirty money."
"Dirty money?" Shvets asked, as if the accusation were an insult.
"There are rumors that Herr Dorfman was an agent for the East German Stasi before the wall fell."
"Rumors are bad things."
"And there is another rumor that he worked for your GRU as well. That he helped certain people launder money."
Shvets gave him a wicked grin. Dorfman had, in fact, been a spy for the KGB, not the GRU. "Where have you heard such things?"
