Nudelli said, ‘My facial workout. Helps restore lost muscle tone and reshapes bags and sags. Those I got enough of already. A 250 percent increase in facial muscle strength in just eight weeks. They say all you need is two minutes a day, but I’m doin’ a little more than that on account of all the fuckin’ worries I’ve got. My wife. She wanted a facelift. Estimated cost? Ten thousand dollars. Instead I bought her one of these little gizmos for seventy-five bucks.’ He chuckled meanly and popped the device back inside his cheeks. ‘O ahead,’ he said, opening and closing his mouth like a goldfish. ‘Make your pitch.’
Dave glanced at the color screen of his laptop and found the file he was searching for.
He said, ‘Chasing drug money is the new law-enforcement specialty. Banking regulations have been tightened all over the world. Banking secrecy relaxed, even in Switzerland. Used to be that you could fly into Zurich with a suitcase full of money and make a deposit, no questions asked. Not any more. It’s gotten so that the Swiss have to ask questions these days. For a while back there, South America and the Caribbean were also good places to hide drug dollars.’
Al said, ‘Still are.’
‘If you know the right people. Not everyone does. New crime isn’t connected in the same way as someone like you, Tony. Nowadays the best thing you can do is to buy a bank. And the gold medal place to buy one of those is in the former Soviet Union. Under the aegis of Gosbank, which is owned by the State, and Vnesheconombank, which is the Bank of Foreign Affairs, hundreds of banks have been formed in the last few years to take advantage of new Russian enterprise. To lend it money. To take care of other hard currency deposits. There are even tax breaks and building loans to encourage new banks.’
‘It might be nice to own my own bank,’ said Nudelli.
Dave said, ‘Wait. There’s more to this scam. OK, to do it, to capitalize your new bank, you have to get your cash into Russia. That can be difficult too, especially when the cash is the result of illegal enterprise. What’s more, when it’s in the quantities required to capitalize a new bank it’s bulky. Let me illustrate that with a comparison. D’you like basketball, Tony?’
‘Sure.’
‘Then you’ll know that UCF’s leading scorer at seventeen points a game is Harry Kennedy. Now think of a tower of ten-dollar bills twenty-five inches wide and seventeen inches deep that’s as tall as Harry Kennedy. Harry’s about six-five, I believe. That’s only $5 million. A tower would have to be fourteen feet high and weigh more than 2,000 pounds just to reach ten million bucks. Makes it harder to shift than any drug, with one advantage being that the dog hasn’t yet been born that can sniff out money.’
‘They got women for that,’ chuckled Al. ‘My wife can lock onto a new C-note at fifty paces.’
Tony Nudelli liked that one.
‘But the Moscow gangs have fixed the transport of the cash too. Transport your money and help you set up your own bank. All for twenty-five cents on the dollar, same as if you had to launder it somewhere else. They get the cash across the Atlantic, through the Mediterranean and up into the Black Sea. Less than eight weeks after the money leaves Florida you own your own bank in the Russian city of your choice. Once there you can loan it to business, make money on it and then put it through the regular banking system.’
Al asked, ‘So what’s the angle? Owning a bank would be nice but we don’t need no help laundering money.’
‘I’m not selling any. My angle is this. I want to rip off one of these hard currency exports. The Moscow mob with some help from old KGB guys, and some new ones too, they operate an undercover dockage out of Fort Lauderdale. Just five minutes from the airport. The place is 50,000 square feet with state-of-the-art facilities, and accommodating motor yachts up to 150 feet long. They’ve got guys working there who really know the inside of boats. Put a new interior in your boat in no time. Except that it’s not your yacht, it’s theirs. One of half a dozen they own and charter. And the new interior? A new double bed in each stateroom that’s literally made of money. Each one looks and feels like any other bed. Maybe a little firm but that’s hardly surprising given that there’s maybe two million bucks tucked away inside the base.’
Nudelli flicked the facial flex out of his mouth, wiped the saliva from his lips, and brandished the flex as if it was a cocktail stick.
‘Wait a minute,’ he growled. ‘You look outta that window there, you can see the Bitch. Named after my first wife. A hundred foot long, she’s got a top speed of twenty-four knots and a range of 2,000 miles. A fully equipped cruising resort, she’s sleek, seaworthy and whisper fuckin’ quiet, perfect for island hopping, but I wouldn’t try to cross the Atlantic in her. The QE2 she ain’t.’
Dave shook his head and said, ‘You wouldn’t have to, Tony. For around $80,000 you could book the Bitch a passage on a custom-built transatlantic ferry. In particular, one of the cat-tugs operated by Stranahan Yacht Transport out of Port Everglades.’
‘The hell’s a cat-tug when it’s afloat?’ asked Al.
Dave rolled the trackball on his computer, selected a picture file from the floppy disk he had made up the day before, and turned the machine to face his two-man audience. They shifted forward on the chesterfield to take a closer look at the picture on the color screen. In front of them was a shot of a 600-foot vessel that contained as many as eighteen luxury motor yachts.
Dave said, ‘It has the basic hull form of a ship, combined with the wide beam and shallower draft of a barge. But it still equals the center of gravity and the buoyancy of both units.’
‘Jesus,’ said Al. ‘That’s incredible. I never seen nuthin’ like that before. They really do sail this thing across the Atlantic? With all these other boats?’
Dave nodded.
Nudelli said, ‘Looks kind of risky to me. I’m speaking as a yacht owner, you understand. There’s the risk of lifting the boat out of the water. Then there’s the risk of having your boat on an unprotected deck during the crossing.’
‘Uh-uh. The cat-tug is a semi-submersible. Kind of like an oceangoing dock. You float your boat in at Port Everglades, and then float it out again when you get to sunny Mallorca, in the western Mediterranean. During the voyage each vessel is secured to the dock floor, tied down with special lines, and protected from the worst of the Atlantic by those dock walls you see. They’re around twenty feet high. There are only minimal acceleration forces when the cat-tug’s underway. Oh, and the er, insurance premiums for crossing the Atlantic are about a quarter less than if you went under your own steam. Always supposing that you could. SYT will carry any vessel up to one with a twenty-foot draft and there are no height restrictions.’
Nudelli said, ‘I guess that’s right. Looks like a schooner in amongst those other boats. Main mast should be around sixty feet high.’ He leaned back on the chesterfield, the leather creaking underneath him like he was already on board a ship at sea. ‘I gotta admit, it looks impressive. But this company, Stranahan Yacht Transport. They have anything to do with the Russkies?’ He returned the facial flex to his mouth and began to stretch his face again.
‘Nope. It’s a legit company. Russkies book a passage like any other citizen. Being alongside the boats of law-abiding citizens they figure on having a certain safety in numbers. And of course the Coast Guard is looking for dope, not cash. When the cat-tug gets to Palma, Mallorca, they float out and sail on to their final destination under their own steam. It’s a place on the Black Sea, where the money’s finally taken out and then transported by road. Another quick refit and the yacht’s ready to come home again.’