doing exactly what they wanted, creating the shield behind which they could hide. âWhat about the gambling?â he said in abrupt recollection.
âThat was the eventual aim,â disclosed Nicky.
âI donât understand.â
âThe FBI came here yesterday. Two guys. I donât know what theyâve found but they said theyâve been investigating for months. They know about the credit linkup between Las Vegas and Nassau. Said it was the classic way these guys get money out. All they do is make the deposit in Las Vegas and draw it from us, in the Bahamas. Gamble a little, to make it appear genuine, cash up the rest, and put it into an offshore account.â
The feeling of sickness came to Franks again, at a further realization. The discussion about installing the casino had occurred when Nicky was away on his honeymoon. Informal, theyâd said. No reason to keep any notes. So any investigation would show the initiative to the Bahamas government to be his, with the formal company discussion only occurring afterward. Franksâ mind stayed on records. He said, âWhat documentation is there that I havenât seen? Stuff beween you and Pascara? With any of them?â
Nicky licked his lips, not moving.
âGive it to me!â yelled Franks.
Hesitantly the lawyer took a slim folder from a desk drawer, sliding it across the table toward the other man. âI wasnât keeping it from you,â he said.
âLiar.â said Franks. âYou have kept it from me. Whatâs here?â
âDukesâ bank transfer, for the original company creation. Came from an offshore account in the Netherlands Antilles. Instructions from Pascara, for dividend payments. Thatâs offshore, too. An account in the Bahamas â¦â
âInto which goes the casino money?â
âI donât know,â said Nicky. âThereâs also my own notes, about the formation. What I was asked to do. Some stuff about Pascaraâs other investments, too.â
Franks looked down at the folder and then back up to Nicky. âDidnât the FBI ask for this?â
âThey probably would have done if theyâd known about it. They just wanted the company books; said if I refused theyâd get them by subpoena.â
Franks sat back in his chair, trying to analyze everything. It was a mess. An embarrassing, humiliating mess that was going to tarnish his reputation badly and probably destroy Nickyâs. Which the bloody man deserved anyway; he felt no sympathy for him. Thank God heâd kept the companies separate from everything in Europe.
âHow were things left with the investigators?â
âThey told me not to get in touch with Pascara, Dukes, or Flamini. Said theyâd want to talk to you and wanted to know when youâd next be in America.â
âWeâll cooperate,â decided Franks. He lifted the unopened folder. âMake this available and anything else they might want. Itâll wreck the company, of course. Weâll get some sort of price for the hotels but we wonât cover ourselves. Weâll need lawyers, naturally. The best. You must be able to get the names. Do that this afternoon.â
âIâm not sure,â said Nicky.
âNot sure about what?â
âCooperating.â
âWhat are you talking about! Weâve been suckeredâI have, at least. I donât like it and I like even less the thought of it becoming public knowledge. But itâs going to become public knowledge. Thereâs nothing we can do about it. The important thing now is to salvage what little we can.â
âThereâs nothing wrong with the public affairs of the company,â said Nicky. âNor the hotel company or the casino holding. We took an investment in good faith and operated strictly according to the law.â
âYou knowâand now I knowâthat it was crooked money! Weâve been set up,
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