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Earlier, Badde had been first to order, requesting a Jameson Irish whisky and club soda, and then Garcia and Santos had said yes when the waitress asked if they were having their usual. Badde didn’t know what that was, but both of their cocktails were clear liquid with bubbles and a lime wedge. He guessed vodka, or maybe gin, with either tonic or soda water.
“Politically,” Badde now said, a bit arrogantly, “it would be a good idea to use Delaware. What with Wilmington being right down the road from Philly.”
Santos and Garcia exchanged a glance.
“Well,” Santos then said, turning to look at Badde, “you’re right. There is good reason why so many—sixty percent, in fact—of Fortune 500 companies incorporate in Delaware. Their laws are better geared to corporations than most other states. But as friendly as Delaware can be, Cayman keeps everything quiet.”
Garcia, who was stirring his drink, looked up and added, “That’s why it’s called the Switzerland of the Caribbean. Its confidential Relationships Preservation Law, Section Five, has criminal penalties—imprisonment and cash fines—for anyone who even attempts to offer to divulge confidential information. They don’t so much as report who the officers of a company are, never mind where the money comes from or where it’s going.”
Santos nodded. “You can’t accomplish that anywhere in the States. So we’re not being political. We’re talking business.”
Badde met his eyes, then nodded.
Got it.
And maybe some money can find its way into a confidential account in my name.
“The Caymans have more than five hundred banks,” Santos went on. “While financial markets everywhere have been melting down in the last few years, not a single one in Cayman went out of business. In fact, they were providing trillions of dollars in cash infusions to cash-strapped countries.”
Badde nodded thoughtfully as he sipped his Irish whisky and club soda.
“Let me ask you this . . .” Badde then began.
“Of course.”
“. . . where does Yuri base his?”
Santos raised his eyebrows. “I’m sorry. But I’m sure you’ll understand that we do not discuss anything about our other clients.”
Then why the hell did you bring him up driving here?
“It would violate our client confidentiality,” Garcia put in. “Which we’re sure you can well appreciate.”
“Not a problem,” Badde said. “I can ask him.”
I can . . . but I won’t.
“What we can tell you,” Santos said, “is that our Focused Investment Niche Strategies are Cayman-based funds. They’re highly diversified, including many EB-5s. And, as your PEGI records will show, all OneWorld investment vehicles for Diamond Development are FINS.”
Why the hell didn’t Jan tell me that before I came down here?
I wonder if she knew.
He took another sip of his whisky, then nodded.
“I knew that, of course. That Diamond had FINS. I just didn’t realize the fine print of FINS being in Cayman.”
Listen to me. I’m already talking like them.
Not bad for the son of a South Philly barbershop owner.
But I’m not really sure exactly where Cayman is. Maybe near Puerto Rico?
Too many little islands down there.
“I know you’ve heard all this,” Santos said, “but please let me just lay it all out.”
“That’s why I came,” Badde said, smiling broadly. “Have at it.”
