The Italian Divide (16 page)

“I really appreciate everything you’ve told me.”

“Don’t thank me. Just destroy Parelli.”

Milan

C
raig and Giuseppe met at 9:00 in the morning in the Milan headquarters of the carabinieri, the Italian national police. The gray stone structure the agency occupied was in the shadow of the Duomo in the heart of Milan. The director was a friend of Giuseppe’s and had promised Giuseppe when he took the EU job that he’d have, “An office, a secretary, and whatever else you need. Anytime.”

After studying Craig’s list of the jewelry that had been stolen, Giuseppe gave a long, low whistle. “The lady has expensive taste. Those are unique pieces that will stand out.”

“They could have been bought for Federico’s first wife.”

“Well one of them sure has expensive taste. I already spoke to Jean-Claude. He’s expecting the list.”

Craig liked working with Giuseppe. He moved fast and was always focused. Besides, for Craig, who except for his time in Argentina, had been racing cars for the last year and a half, it was good getting back into the groove of the hunt for terrorists and criminals he had enjoyed doing for so long.

Giuseppe grabbed his jacket and tucked a Beretta into his chest holster. “We’re off to Federico’s bank.”

“Did you call? Are they expecting us?”

“Nope. I want the element of surprise. Man by the name of Dominic Leonardo is the acting CEO. He had been Federico’s second in command.”

“Good. Let’s go ruin his day.”

The bank headquarters were housed in a majestic stone building with four large columns in front on the square across from the La Scala opera house.

A secretary ushered Craig and Giuseppe into an ornate conference room where Dominic was waiting. Looking at the man, Craig observed he was quite short, almost bald, and very scared.

Giuseppe pulled out his ID and held it out to Dominic. With a trembling hand, the banker took it and seemed to be staring at it.

“Director of EU Counterterrorism,” he said. “What’s this about?”

“I’m investigating Federico’s death.”

“But why do you want to talk to me? Surely you don’t think I stole the jewelry. I wasn’t even in Biarritz on Saturday.”

Craig took an instant dislike to the man.

Calmly, Giuseppe replied, “We’re trying to determine if this was more than a simple jewelry theft.”

Dominic handed back Giuseppe’s ID and stared hard at Craig. “You’re the race car driver. Enrico Marino?”

“Yeah, that’s who I am.”

“What are you doing here?”

Giuseppe responded before Craig could open his mouth. “He was a close friend of Federico’s and is helping me with background. I’m using him as a consultant on this case.”

Apparently resigned that he would have to talk to them, Dominic sat down at the heavily polished wooden table. Craig and Giuseppe sat across from him.

“You think that terrorists killed Federico and made it seem like a robbery?” Dominic asked.

Giuseppe looked sternly at Dominic. “We believe that your bank is laundering money for organized crime. That’s what led to Federico death.”

Dominic’s head snapped back. “You’re not serious.”

“Why not? If the Vatican bank is doing it, so could yours. I want you to produce copies of all transactions the bank entered into in the last year for over one million euros. Also, all overdue loans.”

“Do you have authority to ask for that?”

“If you prefer, I could get an order from the Ministry of Justice. Then they’ll send their people to check all your records. When that happens, sometimes the media hear about it. Nobody quite knows how.”

“Okay. You made your point. That won’t be necessary.”

“I didn’t think so.”

“You’ll have the information in an hour.”

“Now tell me about the acquisition of your bank by Pacific Sun Bank from Singapore.”

“They only bought a 19 percent interest.”

“Which gives them effective control.”

“What would you like to know?”

Craig detected a quavering in Dominic’s voice.

“Was Federico in favor of the transaction?”

Dominic looked away and responded. “Of course. As the largest shareholder, he would make a great deal of money from the sale of this stock.”

“Are you certain of that?”

Before responding, Dominic fiddled with a ring on his finger for a full minute. Finally, he said, “Absolutely. We discussed it last week.”

More quavering in his voice, Craig thought. He’s lying. Hiding something.

If Craig were in charge, he would have sprung across the table, pinned Dominic to the back of his chair, and threatened to strangle the man with his bare hands if he didn’t tell the truth. But that wasn’t Giuseppe’s way.

“We want to meet separately with the three highest ranking officers of the bank after you,” Giuseppe said.

Dominic hesitated, then said, “I’ll put you in a conference room. My secretary will have them to come to see you one at a time.”

“Good. While you arrange that, I’m going to the men’s room.”

“I’ll go also,” Craig added.

Once they were both in the men’s room and satisfied no one else was there, Giuseppe said to Craig, “He’s lying through his teeth about Federico and the acquisition by the Singapore Bank.”

“Agreed. We may have hit pay dirt.”

“Perhaps one of the other top people will break.”

“While you’re interviewing them, I want to go to Federico’s office. I’ll talk to his secretary, Donna. I’ve gotten to know her through my relationship with Federico. Also, I want to look at his files.”

“Okay. We’ll split.”

“What do you intend to do with the bank records he’s assembling?”

“Turn them over to investigators in my office. And I’ll also have them come here to make sure he’s not hiding anything.”

Donna looked happy to see Craig. “Oh, Mr. Marino, it’s been awful.”

She was a heavyset, gray-haired woman who had worked for Federico for a long time. On her desk she had pictures of half a dozen of her grandchildren—ages ten and younger, Craig guessed.

Craig wanted privacy. “Can we go into Signor Castiglione’s office to talk?”

“Certainly.”

She led the way. He closed the door behind them.

Craig had been in Federico’s office several times before. He loved the racing memorabilia and model cars that Federico had scattered around. He also had pictures of Craig winning a race, albeit not a major, in Provence in April.

Craig sat behind Federico’s desk, taking the chair of authority. She sat in what must have been her usual place, facing him.

“In view of my friendship with Federico, I’m helping the police investigate his death.”

“Had he lived another week, it would have been twenty years that I worked for him. I liked Signor Castiglione. Everybody did.”

Not everyone, Craig thought.

She continued. “He was a gentleman, considerate and kind. Not just to me—to everyone who worked for the bank.” She began to cry. “I’m sorry. After twenty years, he was family.”

Craig handed her his handkerchief. “I can understand that.” He decided to jump into the key issues without any warning.

“There have been rumors of his bank’s involvement with organized crime.”

“That’s ridiculous.”

“You’re sure?”

“Positive. I was aware of all of Federico’s bank work. That was the nature of our relationship.”

Craig believed her. “Then let’s talk about the investment in this bank by the Singapore bank.”

“What do you want to know?”

“Can you show me Signor Castiglione’s files relating to the investment by the Singapore bank.”

She looked extremely upset. “Those files aren’t here any longer.”

“Well, where are they?”

“I don’t know.”

“When did they disappear?”

She didn’t respond.

“You should know, Donna, that Giuseppe has authority to go to the Justice Ministry and have witnesses who don’t cooperate charged with obstruction of Justice, which is a crime.” Craig had no idea if that was true, but he decided to toss it out. “Are you aware of that?”

“No … no.”

“Then tell me what happened to the files.”

She took a deep breath and let it out. “Signor Castiglione died on Saturday night. When I came into the office on Monday morning, I saw that all of his files were gone. His computer was gone as well. I have no idea who took them. You’ll have to ask Signor Leonardo.”

“Was Signor Castiglione in favor of selling shares to the Singapore bank?”

She didn’t respond.

“Well was he?”

She linked her hands together and looked down at them.

“I don’t know.”

Craig was sure she was lying. He had already threatened obstruction of justice. Now he tried another tact. “You liked Signor Castiglione. I know that.”

She nodded. “Very much.”

“And I’m sure you want us to find out who was responsible for his murder?”

“Yes. Of course.”

“Then you have to help me.”

She began to cry again. “I’m frightened. Not for my job—for my life.”

“I promise that whatever you tell me will never be disclosed to anyone other than Giuseppe. Not Dominic. No one.”

“She studied his face, undoubtedly trying to determine if she could trust him.”

Finally, she wiped her eyes with his handkerchief that she was still clutching and began in a stammering voice. “Signor Castiglione never closed the door to his office. So I heard things.”

“What kind of things?”

“About two weeks ago, a man by the name of Lin Yu, the Director of a large Singapore bank, Pacific Sun, came to see Signor Castiglione.”

At last, Craig felt as if he was getting somewhere.

“Lin Yu,” she continued, “said that he wanted to make a major investment in our bank. Signor Castiglione told him it wasn’t possible. So he raised the price. When Signor Castiglione still turned him down, he told Signor Castiglione to take his offer to the board, which he agreed to do. They scheduled another meeting the following week.”

“Did Signor Castiglione take the offer to the board?”

“He did. I was at the board meeting. He argued against the transaction. The board agreed with him.”

“Any dissenters?”

She shook her head. “No.”

“Not even Signor Leonardo?”

“Correct. No one.”

“What happened at the second meeting between Castiglione and Lin Yu?”

“There was a great deal of shouting. Signor Castiglione still refused to sell.”

“What did Lin Yu say?”

“That he had powerful friends, and if Signor Castiglione didn’t agree on the transaction, he would pay for it with his life.”

“You heard him use those words, ‘pay for it with your life?’”

“For sure. I would never forget that. I was surprised and frightened.”

“Did they meet again?”

“No. But Thursday, two days before Signor Castiglione died, Lin Yu called him. I don’t know what they said. Only that Signor Castiglione was very upset after the call. Then he called Signor Goldoni to meet him in Biarritz. That’s all I know.”

Craig thought about what she’d said. He didn’t have any other questions. “You’ve been very helpful. Thank you.”

“And you won’t tell anyone other than Giuseppe what I said.”

“I promise. I will not.”

Craig then joined Giuseppe in his interviews with the officers. All were sticking with Dominic’s story.

Afterward, the two of them left the bank’s headquarters and dodged Milan’s ubiquitous motor scooters while crossing the street en route to a small café two blocks away. Giuseppe was furious when he heard what Craig had to say. “Those four were flat-out lying. I should charge them with obstruction.”

“But I promised Donna we wouldn’t use her.”

“Yeah, I guess I can’t.”

“Forget them. They can’t help us. Our next move is to go to Singapore and to speak with Lin Yu. Find out who his powerful friends are.”

Giuseppe downed an espresso and said, “Let’s wait twenty four hours to move up on Singapore. I want to give Jean-Claude a chance to locate the Russian killers from the fencing of the jewels. Also, for my investigators to examine bank files to check out the organized crime issue.”

“Sounds reasonable.”

“I’m going back to Rome. I’ll call you tomorrow afternoon, or sooner, if I hear from Jean-Claude.”

Once Giuseppe left, Craig called Lorenzo and went to see the lawyer who seemed stunned by what Donna had said about the bank takeover.

“I had no idea about any of this. I was not only Federico’s lawyer, but his friend. He should have spoken to me about it.”

“Do you doubt its accuracy?”

Lorenzo shook his head in dismay. “Donna is an honest woman. And Federico unfortunately sometimes confided in me and sometimes did not.”

*     *     *

Still afraid of going home, Craig spent another night at the hotel Palazzo Parigi. The next morning, at five o’clock, he went running. Craig headed toward his favorite route in Milan. One of the city’s most imposing sites was the Sforza Castle, a dominating brick and stone structure in the center of Milan surrounded by a moat. Construction had begun in the 15th century by Francesco Sforza whose family ruled the area. Later generations modified it. And now the castle was a major complex of museums including paintings, furniture, and archeology.

Craig liked this site for running because a vast green park area with winding paths spread out behind the castle. He had a regular route for a five-mile run, beginning at the castle and ending up there.

As Craig left the castle at the start of his run, the park was deserted and the sky was still dark. Normally when Craig ran, he tuned out whatever he was working on, but not today. He kept replaying in his mind everything he had learned about Federico’s death. Donna was courageous, and she had given him his first real break, but he was still a long way from having any answers.