THE TAINTED TRUST (Volume 2 of The King Trilogy)

CHAPTER 9

   New York. Saturday, July 19, 1980.

"Good of you to call, Alfred. What's happening?" Visconti asked, close to bursting with anticipation.

"Congratulations, I just received a telephone call from your new clients."

"Are you telling me what I think you're telling me?"

"As soon as the paperwork is completed, you will assume the management of the King's trust. I assume it will have an appreciable impact on your bottom line. It is conservatively valued at three hundred and thirty million."

"Fantastic! Alfred, you're incredible!" Visconti shouted.

"Competent perhaps, but never incredible. Allow me to remind you that before the transfer is completed, five million must find its way into my account in Geneva. My lawyer will call you this afternoon to give you the details."

"Why can't you just do it yourself? You have ..."

Schnieder interrupted. "Too much of a risk at this late stage in my career. Banks are terribly bureaucratic organizations, my young friend. An internal audit of the transaction would quickly reveal my indiscretion. Furthermore, while brandy helps me to make it through my days and nights, I don't believe they serve brandy in prison."

"No problem," Visconti conceded, now on his feet and pacing back and forth, pondering the implications of managing the gigantic trust and calculating the huge increase in his income it would bring. "We'll bury the shrink here in no time," he promised.

"There are several things of which you should be aware, Louis. They are crucial to the success of your relationship with the Kings."

"Shoot."

"The fact that they have anything to do with the money must remain a tightly guarded secret. They assume I have told you very little about them, the trust, and the source of the money. They assume all you know is that the money was inherited. I strongly suggest you do everything necessary to preserve that assumption."

"That shouldn't be difficult. Where did it really come from?"

"It actually was inherited. Jim Servito, a long time client of mine and former husband of Karen, accumulated most of it by forgetting to pay taxes on a very large quantity of gasoline. You can be certain that the governments of both Canada and the United States would dearly love to recover it."

"Incredible! I thought we had some pretty heavy tax evaders here in the Big Apple. Servito makes them all look like penny-ante pikers."

"That may be so, but with one major difference...It is very likely that those penny-ante pikers are still alive."

"Good point. Do you have any idea what possessed the Kings to keep the money?"

"I can only speculate. I understand the Feds treated them very shabbily. Personally, I don't blame them for keeping it. In similar circumstances, I would be inclined to do the same thing."

"To keep three hundred large? That's a no brainer. It would take me a microsecond to make the decision. I would keep it and spend the rest of my life swinging from the trees...How did Servito die?"

"His wife killed him. She pushed him over a cliff."

"Nasty lady. I'd better be careful with her."

"You had better be careful with both. They are extremely shrewd."