Chapter 22 Chapter 21

The naked fake blonde on the bed was curled up next to a skinny woman watching a video when the phone rang.She turned around nervously, pulled her two thick legs out from under the sheet, put on a red silk nightgown cover, and walked down a flight of stairs to the study.The phone next to her bed didn't ring.This is a call for personal business.The phone in the study is for business.She sat down on a deep red leather sofa and reached for the phone. Hello! It was a man's voice.An Italian with a hoarse voice.He said he wanted to see her, that it was some business matter. Who are you?May I ask your first and last name.

That doesn't matter.Antonio.A friend of Fieri's.okay? Let's start with it.Fieri was one of the few people who had the phone number.Anyone who calls her must have Fieri's care, so don't tell me.You want to find a place that does not attract attention and is more discreet.Hassler, okay? The Hassler is a beautiful old hotel in the center of Rome overlooking the Spanish Steps. Well.Can you come tomorrow at two o'clock? I'll see if I can reserve a room.Then call and tell you the room number.When the time comes, you can come in directly without having to tell the service desk.

He paused. your number? He hung up after giving his number.She jotted it down in her notebook.Five minutes later, she called him back and said: Room 151, I will wait for you there at two o'clock tomorrow.She put down the phone, turned off the lights, sat in the dark, and watched the night outside the window.Who is this man?The sound is a bit familiar.What might he want to do?She smiled at her own shadow on the dark windowpane. When he arrived at fifteen past two, she was already there waiting.She was fair-haired, of medium height, about five foot four, but well-built.He looked at her beautiful calf, well muscled from the ankle bone up.She stood by the window, her shoulders stretched back, her chest was slightly exposed, she was charming and calm.He had never seen her before, but he knew everything about her.

She is very famous.Antonio.Fieri also admired her when she mentioned it.He said she was delisted and quit, and he felt very sorry.Even though she said she had quit, sometimes she couldn't resist Fieri's temptation to work for him again.But this is a closely guarded secret, only the two of them know it, and Catania doesn't know it at all. People only know her name is Christina.Villiers, is an American stuntman.In fact, that wasn't her real name, and she wasn't a stuntman, it was just a cover.Catania discovered her phone number years ago.He wrote it down casually at the time, maybe in case he needed it.Thankfully he had the foresight.

Now she was standing in front of him, putting on an air of waiting.He looked at her appreciatively.She smiled.She recognized him immediately. What can I do for you, President? I can pay you a fortune and give you double the money. She nodded: that's natural. I want you to kill three people. At half past three, Christina returned to her apartment.The apartment is located on the tree-lined and elegant Riberta Street.She locked the door behind her, turned off her personal phone, and started to get ready. A few hours later, in London, Jacob sat in Sarah's room, waiting for her to come home from get off work.

It was ten past seven when she came back.Jacob smiled at her, somewhat worried. where have you been Surprised, Sarah hits the gym.I practiced for an hour.Omg I need to move.Feel uncomfortable all day.Arnott kept looking at me with strange eyes.And it's not as arrogant and hostile as usual.He looked preoccupied.She found Jacob worried, hey, what's going on? Jacob walks up to her and puts a hand on her shoulder, Listen to me Sarah.The whole thing is messed up. What do you mean by that? I found something new on the tape.Carl.Heinz.Kessler and Arnott had a conversation last night in Scarpirato's office.Scarpirato is innocent.Kessler was third and Catania was fourth.Kessler and Arnott opened an account for Catania at a Swiss bank.They put a quarter of the stolen money into his account, making him a highly favored member of the gang.This is another way to control him.

Sarah clutches the sweatshirt backpack still on her shoulders, and God, Jacob, this is unbelievable.I only know that Arnott and Kessler have a close relationship. I thought Arnott was just acting on behalf of Kessler.I thought Kessler seemed to have nothing to do with it all, a respectable president of a large commercial bank.Once or twice I suspected it too, but quickly put it out of my mind.I always feel a little unbelievable.She fell silent. It could be worse than that, Jacob said, Arnott told Kessler everything about you and Matsumoto.He said you both knew about the plot.He thought Scarpirato knew too.They found the bug, and the game is screwed.Both sides have been exposed, and no one can hide.Kessler said he was going to tell Catania and that he was going to take action.

Sarah put down her gym bag and sat on the couch.She reached into her backpack for a cigarette and lit it with slightly trembling hands. I guess there's nothing I can do about it. Sarah called Governor Barrington's office and his bank apartment, but no one answered either. Later that night, Alitalia Flight AZ286 landed at London Heathrow from Rome, squeaking rubber tires against the tarmac.It was the last flight of the day and the plane was full of passengers.Two passengers who booked their tickets in the afternoon can only take business class.They got off the plane one after another, and then passed through the border verification office.They are all using fake passports.They're guilty inside, but they don't show it because they're using the most realistic fake passports money can buy.

They smiled at a female worker at the border crossing office as she flipped through their passports.She nodded and let them pass.They immediately went to collect their luggage.Anyone who sees them will mistake them for new arrivals.The only thing they have in common is killing people. They went out of customs, walked to the taxi parking place, and each called a taxi.One of them is Jenny.Caludo's men headed for the Dorchester Hotel in central London.That woman is Christina.Villiers.She was back home in St Leonard's Street, Chelsea. The third member of the group, Daniel.Korda is already in London.He had lived in London all his life, and had done so for thirty years.He is Christina's eyeliner in England.Although Christina had an apartment in London, her base was in Rome.She needs someone who is very familiar with local conditions and facilities.She called Korda to say she was here and that the operation had begun.She asked him to come to her at midnight, and she would give him a brief but comprehensive assignment.

Villiers, Kaludo, and Korda were quietly thinking about their respective tasks in their rooms.Christina.Villiers task is to kill Dante.Scarpirato.A woman does not kill herself, but hires others to kill.Sarah.Jason to Jenny.Karudo.Masami Matsumoto handed it over to Daniel.Christina also needs these two people, because this task is quite urgent. Catania told her that these targets must be eliminated immediately.She hopes to resolve the issue within three days of the weekend.It takes two days to observe the whereabouts of the targets, scout their residences, and formulate an action plan.Ideally give them at least a week, but they have to follow orders.They have previous experience and know how to move fast.

Hours later, the three killers slipped into the dark and damp night and onto the streets of London, because they had to see their targets first. After Jacob left, Sara read until one or two o'clock in the night.She is sitting on the couch in the living room with a book in her hand and a glass of whiskey next to her.She was distracted, and from time to time she put down the book and paced up and down the room.The curtains were open, and she stood under the bright light, completely unaware that there was a pair of eyes in the dark watching her every move. Jenny.Kaludo lurks among the bushes at the edge of the garden.He found her beautiful and pleasing to the eye.He would come again tomorrow at midnight, with a knife, to wake her from her sleep.He saw her get up, turn off the light, and disappear into the darkness.He thought the back was probably the bedroom.Then he slipped away quietly. The next morning, Sarah woke up feeling tired.She dragged her tired body to work.She sat across from Scarpirato during the regular morning meeting.The two looked at each other and smiled knowingly.She had misunderstood him once, and he was innocent.After talking to him on Wednesday night, she now finally felt that she could be less wary of him. When she sat down a few feet across from him across the conference table just now, a smile flashed across his face, that smile was extremely charming and elusive.A memory flashed in his mind.He dislodged it.So much the better.He looked around.Arnott and Wilson walk in.Arnott looked at him strangely.He shrugged and started the meeting. After Arnott sat down, he waited anxiously.Scarpirato is disturbingly serious.He's even happy.Arnott thought he was stalling for time.He presumably, like Jason, wanted to get involved.Maybe that's why he and Jason looked so serious.Maybe they'd discussed it when they got together for drinks on Wednesday night.He thought, still don't know what countermeasures Kessler and Catania are going to take. After the meeting, Sarah stayed in the conference room and did not leave.After everyone else left, she immediately called the president's home.Still no one answered.She called his office again.There was no one there either.At eight o'clock, his secretary answered the phone. Can I speak to the president?I am Sarah.Jason. The other party said in an official tone coldly: I'm sorry, the president has gone abroad for a visit. Sarah wanted to make it urgent: I'm in a hurry.Be sure to tell him. If he calls, I'll be sure to pass on your message. Can't you call him?What if he doesn't call? The other party laughed.There was a bit of pride in the laughter: Miss Johnson, I just said that if he calls, I will tell him that you call him. Sarah panicked, and I'm afraid you don't understand at all.I must speak to the president immediately. The other party is angry, listen, Miss Johnson, the president has gone to New York.It's midnight over there.Whether you like it or not, you have to wait anyway. Sarah hung up the phone.She ran her hands over her bare arms.She suddenly felt terribly alone. The morning time passed quietly.The market is relatively stable.Sarah read the paper and tried to put aside the call to the president.Arnott was sitting on her left, still looking at her strangely.She was too tired to answer him. The offices of Cortilon are located on a cobbled road in the heart of old Geneva.The house was originally a private mansion.The only indication that this is a company is a small brass plaque with the letter C for the company name on it.Only those in the know know that the cream-fronted house is home to one of Switzerland's leading private banks. The interior of the house, especially the place that the client can see, is like the decoration in a private house: exquisite oil paintings, elegant living room, and comfortable study.The breath of the modern bank is hidden but not exposed.Computers, fax machines, and weird transaction screens are all upstairs in the operating room.Managers and staff of the accounting department with relatively low positions work on it.They sit at computer keyboards, handle various ledgers, and manage billions in secret money.Another compromise for the modern age is the four clocks on one of the walls showing the time in Geneva, London, New York and Tokyo. Peter.Yegri is a mid-level accounting manager, twenty-eight years old this year.He looked at the clock showing the time in Geneva.It's already twelve o'clock.It's time for another fresh cup of coffee.He crossed the room to a small kitchen in the back and made a strong Colombian coffee.He walked and sipped his coffee, walking carefully towards his desk.After returning to his seat, his attention returned to the document in front of him.These are a series of electronic funds transfer documents, all in hard copy for archival purposes. Yegri frowned and shook his head, as if he didn't believe the unclear document above.Those words, numbers, and instructions came into his eyes again.He did a quick mental calculation.The net profit from these transfers was three million dollars, which was transferred to LS236190X's account.These transfers were made the day before yesterday.That was done last Thursday, two days after trading.Because the amount involved was too large and somewhat irregular, the hard copy of the transfer was sent to Yegri by the staff below. Yegri took a sip of his coffee and looked up at the ceiling.There must be some legitimate reason.Maybe it was a mistake.He should not rush to conclusions.Ask first, then judge and act later.Yeah, he can at least do that.He waited for the colleagues on several nearby desks to go to a distant place or were busy on the phone, and quickly dialed a number. Simon.Wilson called out to Sarah across the room. A call from a German, number two. Sarah walked back and grabbed the phone. Sarah, I'm Peter.Yegri.We need to talk.His tone was serious. Sarah immediately realized why he was calling.It was her illegal transactions, large purchases and sales, exceeding the amount in her original account, and a profit of three million dollars.The money was going to flow through Cordilon, so she couldn't have overdrawn it, but her behavior, in the eyes of her bank, was disrespectful, even suspicious.No wonder Yegri's tone was so serious.Still, Swiss bankers should turn a blind eye, if not a blind eye, to unsolicited payments.But Sara knew that her income and expenses were too irregular to be deaf and dumb. Yes, Peter, it is time to talk. I suggest you come to Geneva as soon as possible.have Sarah didn't let him go on, what!Want me to Geneva!Kind of overkill, isn't it? He said a little bluntly: No, no.I have no other choice, otherwise I wouldn't bother you. Sarah held the phone away from her body and stared blankly at the trading desk.She and Yegri had known each other for eight years.They were classmates at Cambridge University.She and Alex had stayed with him in Geneva, skied and climbed in the Alps.She had never heard him speak in such a tone before.She felt uneasy and bewildered. Listen, Peter, under normal circumstances, I would come.But now is not the time for me to go.I just can't get away. He never let up, I'm sorry, Sarah.I can't budge, and you'll see why when you come to see me. She stared at the ceiling, thinking for a moment.Finally said: All right, Peter.I come. There was a Swissair flight from Heathrow at 3:50.I'll pick you up at the airport. Thirty past one, Jenny.Kaludo came to Carlisle Square.He was wearing jeans, a denim jacket over a white T-shirt, sneakers and a baseball cap.This plain attire was meant to be less ostentatious on the King's Road. He walked toward Sarah's place, neither fast nor slow.Nothing arouses suspicion.He looked up at the open window.She won't be back for several hours.He knew she left work between four and seven.Before that, he had to go around, study her residence from front to back, and gradually become familiar with the terrain here.In a moment, he would watch from afar, watch her return, and see if anyone came to visit. He was thinking about how to pass the evening.Maybe she'll come back, change clothes, and go out again?However, whether she will come back sooner or later, he will wait patiently.He could strike now, with a six-inch dagger hidden in his trousers at the calf.Best to wait until after nightfall, though.It feels better in the dark.The keys rattled as he walked.He has the best set of master keys.They ensured his swift entry into her home. He crossed the square and took the Old Church Road.He would merge into the traffic on the King's Road and follow the route again.Now for a different reconnaissance.It's not mandatory either.But he wants to see where his target will be, to make a connection, and although it is not necessary, he wants to know what he wants to know. He slipped into a telephone booth on the King's Road.When he thought of her appearance, his heart beat faster. Sarah told Scarpirato that she had to take the afternoon off because she had a personal emergency to attend to. Well, he said with a smile, I don't think you can do much anyway.Friday afternoon. Sarah was relieved.She returned to her trading desk, picked up her handbag, and was just about to leave when she heard Wilson calling her over there. walk slowly.With your phone, like an Italian.One line. Sarah fumbled for her phone impatiently.She said hello, hello twice, but no one answered. Jenny in the phone booth.Kaludo snickered to himself.Sarah.Jason was in the office, and she was supposed to be there, too.As far as she is concerned, there is nothing special about this day.She will not know that today will be her death day.Kaludo was a little smug. Sara puts the phone down angrily.There are always some idiots who call when you are busy.She grabbed her handbag and hurried out the door before another call came. She got into a taxi in Lower Thames Street, told the driver to go to Carlisle Square, and asked him to wait for her there for five minutes before taking her to Heathrow Airport.The driver nodded happily, it was a lot of money for this trip.At least forty pounds, he thought. Half an hour later, the taxi entered Carlyle Square.The driver found a parking place not far from Sarah's apartment.Sarah ran back quickly, took her passport, packed a few things in a hurry, called Jacob, and told him where she was going. The taxi driver stopped and turned off the ignition.He sat in the driver's seat and gazed at the garden and its colorful flowers.He saw a thin young man in a baseball cap approaching the taxi.This person doesn't look like a good person, with a lewd light in his eyes.He was relieved when he saw the man disappear on the King's Road. He was startled when he heard someone knock on his car window.It was the young woman who came back with a small suitcase in her hand.She gets in the car. Please go directly to Terminal 2. After he started the car, he drove onto the King's Road.Sarah leaned back and looked at the Evening Standard that the others had left on their seats. The taxi driver drives past the man in the baseball cap.The man looked ahead, not noticing the pretty woman in the taxi passing a few feet from him. At 5:35, SWISS Flight 833 landed at Geneva Airport.Peter.Yegri was already waiting for her in the arrivals hall as he said.He greeted her politely and led her to his shiny blue Alfa Romeo Spade parked outside.The top of the car was down because it was very warm at this time of afternoon. None of them spoke during the journey.The wind whipped Sara's hair lightly against her face.Soon, the car entered the rush hour after get off work and drove slowly like a crawl.Half an hour later they were in a small cobbled street in the heart of old Geneva, half a mile from Peter's office.He deftly squeezed the car in reverse into a small space and carefully brought it to a stop.He smiled, and again without saying a word, he led Sara up to his second-floor apartment.He opened the door and let her in.His movements were hurried and uncoordinated.His duties as master and friend were intertwined with his professional responsibilities.He brought her a glass of whiskey, poured himself a large one, and sat down on the sofa beside Sarah. He fiddled with the glass, and the tension between the two seemed to be on the verge of breaking out.Sarah didn't want to talk about trivial matters.Whatever he has to say, let him say it.Then they might be able to talk normally like old friends. He cleared his throat. This makes me a little hard to say, Sara glanced at her, with a face of shame, slightly apologetic, but did not intend to flinch.She smiled, shrugged her shoulders, and expressed her understanding first. You just earned three million in foreign exchange trading, I need to report to my boss.I need to ask how you earn, just a few questions. Sara sighed slightly, leaned back on the sofa, and looked at Yegri, as if trying to find an explanation from his eyes. There is something strange about this.She is entitled to credit or debit funds to her own account and is not obliged to answer questions from her account representative.He is responsible for managing her account, for properly registering entries and exits, for paying her interest when due, and for performing normal banking duties.But now he was her guardian of financial integrity.She felt anger welling up, and took a slow swig of whiskey before feeling it subside.She tried her best to calm down and put herself in the situation, but she always felt that her heart was uneasy, as if she needed some explanations. As far as she knew, the authorities were only authorized to ask questions or access accounts if they suspected that the money had come from drugs or similar serious crimes.Yegri looked more like a police officer than her account manager.Therefore, some people must suspect that she obtained the three million yuan through criminal means, not through ordinary illegal means.Swiss banks do not take into account the money obtained through general illegal means, but it is another matter if it involves major criminal activities.At this moment, her heart is ups and downs, and her thoughts are full of thoughts. I think you'd better come straight to me. Yegri was a little surprised by this.Judging from the expression on Sarah's face, she was determined and there was no room for negotiation. I really shouldn't tell anyone about this.In fact, it was wrong for me to ask you to come in the first place. I know that.But you did.You can't expect to learn anything from me if you don't first tell me what exactly is your reason here.So just go ahead and talk. Yegri pondered for a moment, then began to explain. This was about two months ago.General manager Hull.Hoffman called me into his office and told me that the British and German authorities had asked Cordis to do some investigations for them.He called my attention to large cash entries and exits made by my clients after a certain date.He did not say what the significance of the dates was, nor would he give me the background to the investigation.But after a week or two, I gradually realized that the large cash transactions that the authorities investigated occurred after certain important economic events, such as exchange rate adjustments, G7 intervention in the foreign exchange market, and the like .Yegri paused. Here comes your three million.It came two days after the Bank of Italy decided to raise the discount rate by one percentage point. Yegri let out a long breath, relieved.He stood up, went to a small table, and picked up a pack of Davydov cigarettes in black wrappers.He came back and handed one to Sarah.Both of them lit their cigarettes and took a few puffs. Sarah was thinking quickly.What Yegri had just said meant something that disturbed her deeply.The British authorities suspect that someone from the Group of Seven countries leaked secrets, and someone relied on inside information to speculate in the foreign exchange market.The Bank of England must know, Anthony.Barrington must have known.But he didn't tell her anything, and when he asked her to investigate, he didn't even give her a very important and basic hint.Why didn't he tell her?Sarah tried to figure it out. It wouldn't make sense if Barrington knew and didn't tell her.Even if he didn't know Intercontinental Bank, didn't know Arnault and Vitale, he knew that someone was using inside information from the G7 for arbitrage.She was devastated when she realized this.There must be more than one small group relying on the insiders of the G7 for internal arbitrage activities.Barrington suspected that Intercontinental Bank was part of a cabal he already knew about.But why not tell her that?Is it because I don't trust her, or are there other reasons why I don't let her know?She looked at Yegri. People from these authorities, did they say which specific person they want to check, or which specific account they want you to check? Yegri looked at his toes, raised his head after a while, and spoke slowly and reluctantly.It was a breach of confidentiality for him to have this conversation with her and to tell her these things. Let's just say I'm only reporting to Hoffman, a tight-lipped guy.He asked me to follow certain accounts.I don't think he knew that I already knew the heads of some accounts.These accounts are all secret, with only numbers and no names.One day, a few months before this incident, I saw some account papers on his desk, and I saw him take them to a client.I also saw that client.I recognized the face, I'd seen him in the papers before.His name is Antonio.Fieri.This guy was one of the accounts that Hoffman later brought to my attention. Sarah looked dazed.She didn't realize what the name meant to her. He is a notorious mafia boss.Yegri said. He looked at Sarah's face.Whenever she was deep in thought, her face was always sullen and expressionless.Inside she felt panic, confusion, fear.Anger followed, timidly at first, then intensified until the mind became chaotic. Now can you tell me what's going on?Yegri's question woke her from her contemplation. Sarah was taken aback.She looked at him with a strange detachment on her face, and then a tinge of old enthusiasm began to appear. I can't say.All I can tell you is that I am also working for the authorities. He looks at her.The tone of her voice convinced him that she was telling the truth. That money I make is part of my job.You better not take this seriously.I know there are many questions in this. She looked at him and didn't go any further.She waited, almost holding her breath.She couldn't tell why, she felt that anyway, he couldn't tell others about the three million.Some instinct she had not told Barrington before told her to keep it a secret. Yegri spread his hands and looked at his fingers: "Okay."Then I will say nothing.If I don't come to pay attention to it, no one will pay attention to it.But Sarah Well? I am not taking this as an example. She seemed to be thinking about something.He poured her some more whiskey and she took a sip without saying a word.He moved to her side, stroking her hair with his hands, since you are here, let's forget all of this for now.How about spending the weekend here?We can drive into the mountains and go for walks. Sarah looked at him and smiled.He felt that the old her was back by his side, which was a great idea. SWISS Flight 838 took off from Geneva to London Heathrow at 8:50 on Sunday evening.Sarah fastened her seat belt, sat in her seat, and looked out the window.The plane is climbing.In the distance are the hazy silhouettes of the Alps. Him and Peter.Yegri had a very good weekend together.They climbed mountains together, ate together, drank together, just as they had done with Alex.She temporarily forgot the anger and fear in her heart. Staring at the rolling hills outside the window, she thought of her brother and her boyfriend who were thousands of miles away in the wilderness of the Himalayas.She thought to herself, I don't know how they are doing now, whether they are also missing her.Again she felt a pang of loneliness and fear. The plane arrived at Heathrow Airport at 8:45 local time in London.After going through customs, she went to the payphone, found an empty one, put in a fifty-pence coin, and called Dante.Dante picked up the phone after it rang three times. Dante, this is Sarah. Oh, there you are again.How are your personal emergencies going? Dante, listen to me, can I drop by your place?I need to talk to someone.You're all alone, right? He laughed: Yes, it's just me.bring it on.