on three separate occasions a contract assassin. On two of his three hits, all of which Malloy had authorized and paid for, he had been in charge of the investigation afterwards.
Malloy and his friend spent several minutes catching up, including talk about Malloy's upcoming wedding. When it came time for business, Marcus produced a bound dossier on Roland Wheeler. They were seated in one of the luxurious leather booths at the end of the pub. Besides the bartender and waitress there were five other people in the place, all of them smelling of Zürich money and respectability, all suitably removed from their conversation.
As Malloy began through the dossier on Wheeler, Marcus explained to him that Goetz and Ritter was exactly what it claimed to be: a small, exclusive, and extremely reliable private bank. For fifty thousand they let you through the front door. For a couple of million, you got personal attention, and for accounts in excess of ten million you dealt with Mr Goetz himself. The bank had remained in the same two families for five generations. Before that, Goetz and Ritter had sold mercenary soldiers to the various monarchies of Europe, making them a great deal of wealth in a country that hadn't very much at the time.
It went without saying that Goetz and Ritter did not run a perfectly legitimate bank in the American sense of the word. In the late 1990s, following the Swiss banking scandal concerning the lost accounts of the holocaust victims, the American government had negotiated new treaties with the Swiss, obliging Swiss banks to reveal information about questionable accounts, especially those of drug dealers, terrorists, and rich Americans attempting to hide their assets from the IRS. In theory America had finally breached the treasure house of the world's wealthiest criminals. In fact the multinational conglomerates cooperated grudgingly because they were vulnerable to reprisals, while the private banks such as that of Goetz and Ritter continued to operate as they had for the past couple of centuries.
The Swiss government had written the law. It was up to the banks to honour it. America had continued to pressure the Swiss authorities for more concessions, but so much of Swiss prosperity, twelve percent of its gross national product, depended upon finance that it was a losing battle. The Swiss had a weak central government for good reason. Besides, the Swiss had long ago decided it was foolish to mix money and morality. Voltaire had summarized the attitude perfectly even before the French Revolution and nothing but the interest rates had changed since his time: 'If you should happen to see a Swiss banker jump out of a window,' he said, 'follow him. You're sure to make money on the way down.'
'Wheeler is another story,' Marcus announced.
Malloy nodded and continued scanning Interpol reports on the art dealer. He was reading about one of a number of investigations involving stolen art. As with the other investigations it was apparent from the language that the art dealer enjoyed a degree of protection from the Swiss government that would not have been tolerated in other countries. It didn't take much effort to see why. Wheeler had moved to Zürich in the early 1990s, but he had extensive business contacts reaching back thirty years. During that time he had presented the city of Zürich with any number of financial gifts, the total running to something like fifteen million dollars, enough it would seem to make lasting friendships in the circles that mattered.
'He's careful,' Marcus explained when Malloy remarked on the city's reluctance to cooperate with Interpol's various art theft investigations.
'You mean by that he doesn't steal from the Swiss?'
Marcus smiled. He meant exactly that. 'What people do beyond our borders doesn't really interest us, Thomas.'
From what Malloy could see of the reports, Interpol suspected Wheeler of somehow arranging certain acquisitions and then selling them to collectors,
Malloy and his friend spent several minutes catching up, including talk about Malloy's upcoming wedding. When it came time for business, Marcus produced a bound dossier on Roland Wheeler. They were seated in one of the luxurious leather booths at the end of the pub. Besides the bartender and waitress there were five other people in the place, all of them smelling of Zürich money and respectability, all suitably removed from their conversation.
As Malloy began through the dossier on Wheeler, Marcus explained to him that Goetz and Ritter was exactly what it claimed to be: a small, exclusive, and extremely reliable private bank. For fifty thousand they let you through the front door. For a couple of million, you got personal attention, and for accounts in excess of ten million you dealt with Mr Goetz himself. The bank had remained in the same two families for five generations. Before that, Goetz and Ritter had sold mercenary soldiers to the various monarchies of Europe, making them a great deal of wealth in a country that hadn't very much at the time.
It went without saying that Goetz and Ritter did not run a perfectly legitimate bank in the American sense of the word. In the late 1990s, following the Swiss banking scandal concerning the lost accounts of the holocaust victims, the American government had negotiated new treaties with the Swiss, obliging Swiss banks to reveal information about questionable accounts, especially those of drug dealers, terrorists, and rich Americans attempting to hide their assets from the IRS. In theory America had finally breached the treasure house of the world's wealthiest criminals. In fact the multinational conglomerates cooperated grudgingly because they were vulnerable to reprisals, while the private banks such as that of Goetz and Ritter continued to operate as they had for the past couple of centuries.
The Swiss government had written the law. It was up to the banks to honour it. America had continued to pressure the Swiss authorities for more concessions, but so much of Swiss prosperity, twelve percent of its gross national product, depended upon finance that it was a losing battle. The Swiss had a weak central government for good reason. Besides, the Swiss had long ago decided it was foolish to mix money and morality. Voltaire had summarized the attitude perfectly even before the French Revolution and nothing but the interest rates had changed since his time: 'If you should happen to see a Swiss banker jump out of a window,' he said, 'follow him. You're sure to make money on the way down.'
'Wheeler is another story,' Marcus announced.
Malloy nodded and continued scanning Interpol reports on the art dealer. He was reading about one of a number of investigations involving stolen art. As with the other investigations it was apparent from the language that the art dealer enjoyed a degree of protection from the Swiss government that would not have been tolerated in other countries. It didn't take much effort to see why. Wheeler had moved to Zürich in the early 1990s, but he had extensive business contacts reaching back thirty years. During that time he had presented the city of Zürich with any number of financial gifts, the total running to something like fifteen million dollars, enough it would seem to make lasting friendships in the circles that mattered.
'He's careful,' Marcus explained when Malloy remarked on the city's reluctance to cooperate with Interpol's various art theft investigations.
'You mean by that he doesn't steal from the Swiss?'
Marcus smiled. He meant exactly that. 'What people do beyond our borders doesn't really interest us, Thomas.'
From what Malloy could see of the reports, Interpol suspected Wheeler of somehow arranging certain acquisitions and then selling them to collectors,
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