Chapter 6 - THE PRICE OF STAYING SILENT
“Richard gave you this?”
Julian held the silver watch carefully.
Tiffany shook her head.
“He told me where to buy it.”
“With whose money?”
“My own.”
“Then why does the receipt name Hale Meridian Consulting?”
She stared at the paper.
“I didn't know it was there.”
Julian looked at her.
“Where exactly did you get the bag?”
“Richard's assistant arranged delivery to our hotel.”
“And you paid?”
Tiffany hesitated.
That hesitation answered the question.
“Richard said it was a gift from a private collection,” she admitted. “He wanted me to present it to you after the gala.”
Julian placed the watch on the table.
“Why?”
“I don't know.”
“Think.”
Tiffany pressed her palms against her eyes.
“He said the watch belonged to someone important in the transaction. That you would understand its significance.”
Julian examined the engraving.
R.H.
Richard Hale.
The timing was impossible to ignore.
The watch might have been purchased with money from the suspicious fee.
But he could not assume that without tracing the transaction.
He photographed the receipt and informed Daniel Krüger.
Then he returned the watch to its case.
Tiffany watched him.
“You're treating me like a criminal.”
“No. I'm trying to understand what happened.”
“You think I knew?”
“I think Richard used you because he knew you'd want to help me.”
Her eyes filled.
“I did want to help.”
“I know.”
For the first time, Julian considered that Tiffany might be more than a shallow woman who loved cameras.
She was young.
Ambitious.
Accustomed to measuring safety through attention and approval.
And he had encouraged every part of that.
He had rewarded her for looking impressive beside him.
Never once asked whether she felt secure without the expensive apartment or constant public admiration.
“Why did you agree to deliver it?” he asked gently.
Tiffany sat down.
“Because Richard said if the review went badly, you'd blame me for not helping.”
Julian closed his eyes.
“Have I ever made you feel that way?”
She gave a small, unhappy laugh.
“Julian, you once stopped speaking to me for an entire dinner because I mispronounced the name of a French investment firm.”
He remembered.
He had been embarrassed in front of colleagues.
Tiffany had apologized afterward.
He had called it a lesson.
Now he felt sick.
“I'm sorry,” he said.
She looked surprised.
“For the dinner?”
“For making you afraid of embarrassing me.”
Tiffany stared at the floor.
Then whispered, “I don't think I know how to be around you when you aren't trying to win something.”
Neither spoke.
Outside, church bells sounded across Vienna.
At two that afternoon, Julian met Daniel again.
The compliance officer examined the watch receipt.
“This is relevant,” Daniel said, “but it isn't proof that the consulting fee funded the purchase.”
“I understand.”
“The payment trail will need verification.”
“Can you get it?”
“Through the investigation, yes.”
Julian nodded.
Then Daniel handed him a report.
“There's something else.”
The report concerned the Austrian restructuring.
The bank had agreed to pay Mercer & Rowe performance compensation if certain recovery targets were achieved.
But according to the client's internal financial records, those targets had been revised shortly before closing.
“Who revised them?” Julian asked.
“Someone at Mercer submitted the updated schedule.”
“Richard?”
“The submission was attributed to your division.”
Julian looked at the date.
The day before he signed the side letter.
“Were the original targets harder to achieve?”
“Substantially.”
Julian understood.
A fee described as performance-based could become nearly automatic if the targets were quietly lowered.
“And the client?”
“Certain executives appear to have accepted the revision. The bank's supervisory committee may not have been fully informed.”
Julian leaned back.
So the problem was larger than one suspicious payment.
It was about whether a transaction had been structured to reward advisers without delivering the promised results.
“There's more,” Daniel said.
Julian looked up.
“The revision was accompanied by a supporting analysis.”
“Prepared by whom?”
“Your office.”
Julian frowned.
“I never prepared that analysis.”
“I suspected as much.”
Daniel turned the page.
At the bottom was a reproduction of a handwritten note.
Approved after review with J.T.
Julian studied it.
It looked like Richard's handwriting.
But the attached memorandum included a phrase Julian recognized.
Duration exposure remains within acceptable limits.
His chest tightened.
He had heard those words years earlier.
At a dinner table in Manhattan.
Anastasia had asked about duration exposure while he explained a bond structure.
He had dismissed her question.
Now the same technical phrase appeared in an analysis supporting the Austrian transaction.
“Where did this wording come from?” he asked.
Daniel shook his head.
“We're examining the source.”
Julian read further.
The analytical framework had been adapted from research produced by a Caris-affiliated economics institute.
One of its contributors was listed by initials.
A.M.C.
Anastasia Maria of Caris.
Julian stared.
Richard had apparently used research connected to Anastasia's work.
But the report identified no source.
And suddenly Julian understood why Richard had wanted him to think Anastasia was manipulating the review.
If the committee examined the original research, someone might discover that the Austrian transaction had been justified with an analysis altered beyond recognition.
Julian looked at Daniel.
“Does Anastasia know her research may have been used?”
“Not yet. We're determining whether the document was obtained legitimately.”
Julian stared at the page.
Then he noticed a handwritten reference at the bottom.
Appendix C — Winter Rose Analysis.
He remembered the double-headed eagle on the gala invitation.
The winter rose.
He looked at Daniel.
“Where is Appendix C?”
Daniel's expression darkened.
“That is precisely our problem.”
May you like
He closed the file.
“Someone removed it from the transaction archive yesterday morning.”
