over toward Gage and whispered, “I need a bank account.”
“Where?”
“Offshore.”
“Everything outside of the U.S. is offshore.”
“I don’t know where.”
“Why do you need it?”
“I need to move some money.” Matson swallowed hard. “A lot of money.”
The glint in Matson’s eyes told Gage that he was thinking about more than just a couple of hundred thousand dollars of microchip money.
“So open an account,” Gage said. “What’s stopping you?”
“I’m a little hot at the moment.” Matson’s eyes darted around the lobby as if fearing he’d be recognized. “The class action suit against SatTek is getting a lot of press.” He then bumped the side of Gage’s knee with his knuckle and tilted his head toward where the man was sitting. “I think that man is watching us.”
“Don’t worry about it,” Gage said, reaching for his coffee cup on the low table. “So what you’re looking for is a bank account on an island somewhere.”
“What do you mean don’t worry about it?”
“He’s mine.” Gage took a sip and set down his cup.
“Oh, okay.” Matson took a moment to digest Gage’s idea. “Yes, that’s what I want, on an island someplace.”
“How about Nauru?”
“What’s Nauru?”
“An island out in the Pacific.”
Matson’s eyes widened, as if imagining stacks of cash in a faraway vault. “How far out?”
“You know where Samoa is?”
Matson shook his head.
“How about the Marshall Islands?”
“No.”
“New Guinea?”
Matson shrugged.
“Didn’t you study geography in school?” Gage looked at him like a disappointed teacher. “How about Australia?”
“Sure. I know where that is.”
“Nauru is a couple of thousand miles northeast of Australia.”
Matson squinted into the distance as if studying a map on a classroom wall. “You mean near Hawaii?”
Gage shook his head. “I can see geography is just not your thing.” He then looked up at a passing waiter. He didn’t ask Matson if he wanted coffee, but merely pointed at his own cup and held up two fingers. When he looked back, Matson was again staring at the imaginary map.
“You mean I’ll have to travel way out into the middle of the fucking ocean to put my money into the account?”
Gage drew back a little, adopting an incredulous expression. “You don’t get how this works, do you?”
Matson shrugged. “Somebody else used to take care of all this for me, but he, uh, retired.”
“It’s like this.” Gage settled back. “People put money in these offshore banks by…” He cast Matson a questioning look. “You know how correspondent accounts work?”
Matson shook his head.
“Say I’ve got money in Deutsche Bank in Munich and I want to put it into Credit Suisse in Geneva. Do I hand carry the money? Of course not. Each of those banks owns an account at an intermediary bank. If it’s for dollars, it’ll be in, say, the Bank of New York. Deutsche Bank and Credit Suisse have correspondent accounts there. So the money goes from Germany to Switzerland by way of these correspondent accounts.”
Matson brightened. “I get it. The Nauru bank has a correspondent account somewhere. I just need to put the money into that account.”
Gage nodded, smiling like a proud teacher. “You just earned yourself an A.”
“And once it’s in Nauru’s jurisdiction-”
“Nobody can touch it except you.”
The waiter appeared with Matson’s coffee and re-filled Gage’s. Gage stirred in sugar, waiting for Matson to work himself to the next step.
“Where’ll the Nauru bank have its correspondent accounts?” Matson finally asked.
“In the ones I just named, and lots of others. They set them up wherever they expect to receive money.”
“How much will it cost?”
“I don’t think cost is an issue.”
Matson smiled weakly. “I guess you’re right. It’s just habit.”
“But I’ll do you a favor.” Gage took a sip from his cup, then set it back down. “Usually I charge a hundred for this kind of thing. But since we’ve got the other deal, I’ll make it fifty thousand.” He turned toward Matson. “On one condition.”
Matson swallowed, his distressed expression saying that he’d seen a thousand deals fall apart because of what was presented as a final detail.
“We pay you for the other thing in this account so I won’t have to handle cash.”
Matson let the suggestion sit for a moment, biting his lower lip, then nodded. “But I’ll still have to figure out how to get the money back into the States.”
Gage smiled. “Piece of cake. There are dozens of ways. Carry cash back. Buy something in Europe and sell it over here.” Gage furrowed his brows, as if searching his mind for ideas. “Say you buy a dozen classic Rolexes in Switzerland; thirty, forty thousand each. They’re worth the same here as there. Who’s to know? Maybe you take a little loss, so what? Buy rice or steel or whatever anybody needs. Find out what people want and go get it.”
Matson nodded.
Gage pointed a forefinger at Matson’s chest.
“And one more thing. The main way they catch money laundering is that funds come into an account and then go out right away.” Gage wagged the finger back and forth. “It doesn’t make any difference how much you put in your Nauru account, just don’t take out more than about one percent at any one time during the first year. And send the bank a fake contract, like for steel, so it looks like you’re really buying something. But make it odd numbers. Round numbers get attention. Nobody buys exactly a million dollars’ worth of steel. Got it?”
“Yeah.” Matson sighed. “I wish I’d understood how all this worked before.”
Gage rose from the couch. Matson hesitated, then did the same.
“I’m real busy for the next couple of days,” Gage said, “then I need to travel out of the country. I’ll give you a phone number. When you’ve got the fifty grand, call it. My friend over there will meet you somewhere in LA. It’ll take two days to set things up after we get the money. You understand?”
“I understand. What’s his name?”
“Just call him Eddie.”
Gage wrote out a phone number on a blank scrap of paper and handed it to Matson.
“You go out first. He’ll follow. If he spots a tail on you, you’ll never see me again.” Gage looked hard into Matson’s eyes. “If he spots a tail on me, you’re in big fucking trouble.”
CHAPTER 60
A re you ready for a little work?” Gage began his call to Burch. Matson’s fifty thousand dollars was piled on Gage’s desk.
“How I’ve waited to hear those words, but the doctors won’t let me leave the bloody house. I’m not even sure I can make it down the stairs.”
