Massarino folded his hands together on the tabletop and bent forward. “You know, I could have used someone like you in my organization.” He shook his head. “But I guess it’s too late for that.”
“What do you want from me?”
“I have a proposition for you that will keep you out of prison and stake you to a damned good life…at least for a few years until you can make it on your own.”
“I’m listening.”
“You have to understand something. You don’t ever get to return to the U.S.”
“And…?”
Massarino smiled again. “Clever girl, aren’t you?” After a beat, he added, “How’s your Vietnamese?”
Bruno had never been one to lose control, but from his florid complexion and the fire in his eyes, Massarino thought his old friend was about to explode.
“You’ve got to be kidding. Rosen got out of the country? He’s free as a bird?”
Massarino leaned back in his chair, arms crossed. “What can I say, Bruno? The guy did a runner. You’re not the only person pissed off about it. The SEC, the FBI, and the local D.A. are going crazy. The media is making them all look like dolts.”
“I don’t care about the authorities. I want Rosen broke, humiliated, and in prison.”
“Listen, Bruno, no matter what you did to Rosen, he was never going to be broke. He’s too smart for that. He’s gotta have millions hidden away. As far as his being humiliated, the guy’s a sociopath. He couldn’t care less what people think of him. And, if he fought the charges against him, sooner or later he would have been exonerated. I mean, the Feds would try to follow the money trail. Once they discovered that Rosen didn’t make a dime off the Sunrise transaction, they would have started looking elsewhere.”
“So now there’s no prison, either. Zero for three. I should have let you kill Rosen like you wanted to.” He threw up his hands as he paced the Massarino living room. “It was all for nothing. Rosen’s probably lying on a beach somewhere.”
Massarino scoffed. “You took a lot of money from those bastards. That’s not nothing.”
“I wasn’t in it for the money.”
“I know that. But you can do a lot of good with that much money. Have you thought about that?”
“A bit. As I told you before, I’ll send one point seven billion to the SEC to pay back the bank and the client trust accounts.”
“That still leaves five hundred and ninety-two million.”
Bruno nodded.
“Maybe you should talk to Janet. She might have some good ideas.”
Bruno shook his head. “I’m the last person she wants to talk to.”
“Bruno, you’re clueless.”
TWO WEEKS LATER
DAY 24
CHAPTER 33
Victoria Nguyen had been skeptical that she would have enough money to maintain a decent lifestyle in Ho Chi Minh City, the former Saigon. After all, the city was a huge metropolis where living had to be expensive. But she soon discovered that the quarter-of-a-million Louis Massarino had promised her, on top of the half-million she’d saved from doing jobs for clients, put her in the top financial echelon of Vietnamese society. The villa she rented three blocks from the old Cercle Sportif Saigonnais in Tao Dan Park was a mansion compared to her two-bedroom apartment in New York City. She figured the money she had would last a very long time in Vietnam.
Ho Chi Minh City was nothing like New York. She knew there was no place on earth like The Big Apple. But it’s a whole lot better than prison, she thought. Seated at an outside table in a café on Nguyen Du Street, in Ben Thanh Ward, across from the Vietnam Immigration Department in the Ministry of Public Security, Nguyen nursed an orange drink while she watched the front of the government building for the target to appear. He was like an automaton. Arrived at work at 7:30 a.m. and left for home at 5 p.m. Every day.
Do Van Khiem exited the front door of the Ministry of Public Security, leather folio tucked under his left arm, umbrella in his right hand.
The man exudes the essence of uptight, scrubbed-clean bureaucrat, Nguyen thought. She followed his progress as he waited for the traffic light to change, crossed the street, and turned right toward the café. When he was a few steps away, she stood, feigned losing her balance, staggered into Do Van Khiem, and grabbed his arm to steady herself.
“Toi xin loi, thu’a ban,” she apologized in a respectful, mousey tone.
“Quite all right,” he responded in Vietnamese. “Are you okay?”
“A bit dizzy,” she said. She gave him a sweet smile and saw him blush. “I need to cross over to the government building. Would you mind walking with me to the corner?”
“Of course not,” he answered. “But the offices are closed now.”
Nguyen wearily returned to her chair and sighed. “What a mess,” she said. “I was supposed to get some information for my mother in the United States about a long-time friend of hers.”
“Do you mind if I sit down?” Do Van Khiem asked.
“Please,” Nguyen answered.
He sat and said, “You’re from the United States?”
“Yes.”
“I thought I detected something in your accent.”
“Oh, is my Vietnamese poor?”
“Oh, no. I apologize if I gave you that impression.” He seemed flustered. His eyes bounced around like ping pong balls and his complexion had turned even redder. He waved a hand around as though it had a mind of its own and asked, “Are you visiting?”
“Actually, I moved here permanently. I wanted to return to my roots, as we say in the United States. It was as though I never felt like I belonged in America. Like something was missing.”
Do nodded. “I hear that quite often from people who have come back to the motherland.”
“I’ve only been here two weeks.” She offered him a self-deprecating smile. “I am quite lonely. I have no family and people here don’t seem to accept me.”
Do smiled. “Perhaps you intimidate people.”
She showed a quizzical look.
“Excuse me for being forward, but beautiful, sophisticated women can put people off their game.”
Nguyen dropped her eyes, feigning embarrassment. When she looked back at Do, she said, “You are quite the gentleman.”
Do’s face reddened again. Quickly changing the subject, he said, “Perhaps I can assist you with the information for your mother.”
Nguyen looked confused. “How would you do that?”
“If you’re feeling up to it, we can cross to the government building.”
“Oh, do you know someone there?”
He smiled and said, “Something like that, my dear. After we find the information you want, perhaps we can have dinner together.”
“Oh, that would be very nice,” she said.
CHAPTER 34
“Is everything okay, Janet?” Frank Mitchell said.
Her boss’s question surprised her. She frowned for a second. “Sure, Frank. Everything’s fine. Why do you ask?”