Kat and Jace sat in Kat’s downtown office, exhausted from last night’s fire. Aside from the broken window, the fire had undone hundreds of hours of painstaking restoration to the carved banister and wainscoting. Luckily there was no structural damage, but it was just too hard to look at right now. By the time they finished cleaning up and boarding the window it was early Saturday morning. They’d come to the office to escape the smoky air still lingering downstairs.
“Tell me I’m not crazy, Jace.” Kat pointed to Edgewater’s trade confirmations for the last two months. “Edgewater’s broke, and there aren’t any trades to begin with. How could Zachary not know that?” Kat grimaced as she sipped her coffee. It was ice cold.
“You’re really sure he’s not in on it? Of course he’d be crazy to hire you if he was.” Jace winced as he propped up his injured right arm on his knee.
“Exactly. But why didn’t he notice that his trades weren’t going through? Edgewater Investments seems to be nothing at all like how he’s described it. It’s about to implode.”
“Could the trade confirmations be faked too?” Jace asked.
“Yes, but doesn’t Zachary talk to other people? Other traders? His broker?” Despite the fire, last night’s work had paid off. With proof the money was diverted, Kat figured she could meet Zachary’s deadline. If she could follow the money through to its ultimate destination, Zachary would have an airtight case against his father. But this latest question had her stumped. “Doesn’t he execute the trades on a computer trading platform? It’s an elaborate ruse if that’s all faked too. I’ll have to watch him do it.”
“You said Edgewater paid Research Analytics about two hundred and twenty million last year?” Jace scratched his chin.
“That’s right.”
“That’s almost exactly Research Analytics’ total revenues for the year. I downloaded their annual report,” Jace said. “It was surprisingly easy to get.”
“That means Edgewater might be their only customer.” Kat thought back to Beecham’s vacant lot address and the hang-up phone call. Research Analytics was probably a front too. But a front for what? What was Nathan hiding, and why did he need all that money?
Kat rose from her desk and grabbed a thick file from atop her filing cabinet. “These are copies of all the bank deposits over the last year. Almost all of the deposits are clients investing their money. No trading that I can see.”
“Further proof no trading is going on.”
Kat nodded. She perched on the arm of Jace’s overstuffed armchair. “Unless there’s a bank account I don’t know about.” She opened the file. “The deposits are immediately transferred out again, almost as soon as they come in. All to the same account number at the Bank of Cayman.”
“I bet that’s Research Analytics’ account.” Jace looked up at her. “Want me to confirm?”
“Sure. I also want to review the inter-relationships.” Kat rose and dropped the file on her desk. She walked over to the whiteboard. “It helps to see who’s related to whom.”
She pointed at the diagram sketched out on the board. A box labeled Edgewater sat at the top. The two boxes below were marked Research Analytics and Svensson respectively. Lines marked payments connected them to Edgewater. A line marked reporting ran to the right, connecting Edgewater to a box identified as Beecham.
“What’s all this for?” Jace stood and held his arm as he followed her to the whiteboard.
“To get an idea of the cash and information flows. What do they all have in common?” Kat traced her forefinger along the top of the diagram.
Jace raised his eyebrows but didn’t say anything.
“We know how much Edgewater paid to Research Analytics. And how much money in total they have from their annual report.” Kat tapped the document on her desk. Together with the Cayman Islands Registrar of Companies and online searches, the diagram represented all the information she could glean on the company.
She pointed to the Research Analytics box. “Almost all the money Research Analytics receives—about two hundred and twenty million annually—goes to one non-profit organization. The World Institute. Nathan’s a member.” Lucky for her, the World Institute had a website. A website that proudly listed its donors and members.
She drew a circle below the diagram and wrote WI inside it. She drew arrows downwards from Research Analytics. “Research Analytics is simply a conduit from Edgewater to The World Institute.”
“That’s a fortune. If it all goes to one place, why wouldn’t the donors just pay the World Institute directly?”
“You mean like Edgewater?” Kat tapped the board.
Jace nodded.
“Good question. It’s non-profit, so there’s no tax advantage to funneling it through the Caymans or any other tax haven.”
“Research Analytics is just a front.” Jace held his arm as he returned to his chair. “Edgewater’s money ends up in WI without anyone tracing it back there.”
“Exactly. I’m betting some donors have something to hide. Maybe they want to remain anonymous.”
“They’re obviously covering their tracks for a reason.” Jace shifted in his chair and winced. He rubbed his injured arm.
“It’s that sore? You should see a doctor, Jace.”
Jace waved her off with his left hand. “It’s fine for now.”
“Suit yourself.” Kat sat back down at her desk and typed World Institute into the search engine and pressed enter. The search results came back with a dozen entries aside from WI’s official website. She clicked on the first one. “Apparently they also hold an annual conference.”
“I thought it was a secret organization.”
“It is. No one knows what they discuss inside the conference, or even where it’s held. Just that they hold one every year.” For such a clandestine organization, she was surprised at how easy it was to find information online. Perhaps to inspire additional investors.
“Who are the members? Investment types?”
“No—that’s what’s interesting. It’s anyone and everyone. Business tycoons, philanthropists, royalty, future presidents, and even well-connected talk show hosts. People with money.”
“Future presidents? How can they predict the next head of state before it happens?”
“They don’t have to foresee the future,” Kat said. “They decide it. At least that’s what some people say.” She scrolled to the financial statement page. “See this? Total inflows last year were four hundred million. That meant Edgewater’s two hundred and twenty million via Research Analytics is more than half of all their cash inflows.”
“Wow. Very influential. Who’s kicking in the rest?” Jace leaned forward.
Kat frowned. Like a dog with a bone, he smelled a story. Still, Jace was the best at sniffing out secrets.
“I don’t know. Can you check further to see who else is affiliated with them?” Kat’s quick investigation had found all sorts of conspiracy theories related to the World Institute. While the WI referred to itself as a think tank in the annual report, others were less complimentary. At best it was considered a secret society of global elites, the rich and powerful determining policy and law to suit their needs. At worst it was described as a global shadow government undermining national sovereignty by backing politicians friendly to big business.
But she’d let Jace form his own opinions. No one was better at uncovering dirt. She just had to ensure he wasn’t sidetracked once he saw the story potential.
“I’ll get right on it.” Jace leaned back in the leather armchair and stretched his long legs out in front of him. He pulled a laptop out of his briefcase and powered it up.
Kat glanced at her inbox, where Harry’s bank statement caught her eye. It sat atop his checkbook and other statements. Another task she needed to tackle quickly. Whoever was behind his financial mess needed to be stopped, but she was quickly running out of time on Zachary’s deadline. She’d work Edgewater for another hour and then concentrate on Harry’s stuff. She needed to get his affairs straightened out tonight once and for all. She picked up the pile to deposit in her briefcase when one line jumped out at her. It was a monthly transfer to the same account as the recent loan.
Jace shifted in his chair. He was silent, other than the odd tap on his keyboard.
She turned back to Harry’s bank statement. Sure enough, regular monthly transfers had occurred for at least six months, as far back as Harry’s checkbook records went. But as far as she knew, he didn’t have another account at the same bank. She scribbled a note to ask Anita Boehmer.
Thirty minutes later, Jace beckoned Kat over. “Kat, this is fascinating. I can’t believe I’ve never heard about the World Institute. Says they’re trying to start a new world order.”
Kat scanned the article. The caption under the author’s photograph read Roger Landers, author of Currency Conspiracy and the New World Order.
“We can uncover what’s behind the World Institute later,” Kat said. “Since we don’t have much time, let’s focus on how Edgewater’s payments end up there.”
“The membership list is impressive,” Jace said. “I traced all the attendees since first meetings in 1954. That year, one hundred of the world’s elite met with the sole purpose of establishing one world government. In every year since then, about a hundred or so very powerful people have met to advance their cause.”
“That’s a conspiracy theory if I ever heard one.” Kat realized her mistake too late. Jace was off on a tangent already.
“There are a lot of interesting facts to back it up. For instance, the last three American presidents, the British prime minister, and the Canadian prime minister have all attended. Right before they were elected.”
“They were voted in by the people, Jace. Democratically.” How could she get him back on track?
“True,” Jace said. “Except who decided which people would be running in the first place?”
“You think those nominations were fixed?”
“Heavily influenced at the very least. Ninety-three percent of all the World Institute political attendees ended up in office a year or two later. That’s more than a coincidence. But how and why are they connected to the WI? I’d never even heard of the organization until now.”
“What does this have to do with the money?”
“Background, Kat—background. I’m guessing the only reason we haven’t heard of the WI before is because they don’t want us to. Of course a few journalists are writing a lot of the stuff I’m reading, but they’ve been dismissed as crackpots.”
“Except you don’t think they’re crackpots.” Kat sighed.
“There must be an element of truth to it. From what I can see, the WI is all very hush-hush. The meetings are closed to media. At least the regular media. A few high-profile journalists have been invited, but with the understanding that they are bound by secrecy. Break the silence and they won’t be invited back—or write a book like Landers and you’ll be completely shoved out. None of the more accommodating journalists have ever leaked anything. Not in over fifty years. Any journalist worth his salt would write a story on this.”
“Yet no mainstream journalists have.” Kat turned more fully to him. “Pray, why is that?”
“They’ve been silenced.” Jace raised his brows. “Paid off—or something worse.”
“Or, maybe there’s nothing to write about.”
“Maybe—maybe not. Don’t kid yourself, Kat. This is a big story. There’s a reason we haven’t heard of it until now. These are some of the richest, most powerful people in the world. They control banks, governments, and even countries. Their objective is to consolidate power even more. The European Union? That was the first step. They’ve got plans for an Asian union and a North American one next.”
Jace pointed to the World Institute Annual Report on Kat’s computer screen. “Their mandate is one world currency. Edgewater is one of the biggest global currency traders.”
“That doesn’t make sense to me,” Kat said. “Fewer currencies ruin Edgewater’s business. They would have nothing to trade.”
She turned back to her computer screen. “At any rate, we don’t necessarily need to know Nathan’s reasons for diverting the money. Just proof he embezzled the money.”
“Don’t you want to know the motive behind the crime?”
“Sure, it’s interesting, but we don’t have time, Jace. I need to wrap this up by Zachary’s Monday deadline.”
It was as if Jace hadn’t heard a word. “Perfect example—the European Union. What happened after that? The Euro. One currency.”
“So what?”
“That’s just the start, Kat. What if the credit crisis happened on purpose?”
“You mean, like someone planned it?”
“Exactly. What if currency was worthless? What would you do?”
“I’d keep my money in a stronger currency. Or, if that wasn’t enough, in something like gold or diamonds. So would everybody else. But why would anyone orchestrate a currency devaluation? It hurts everybody.”
“Not everybody—only the people who don’t see it coming.”
“Sounds just like every other conspiracy theory I’ve heard of,” Kat said. “And it has nothing to do with Edgewater and Zachary’s assignment.”
“That’s where you’re wrong, Kat. Regardless of Zachary’s low opinion of his father, Nathan Barron is a well-respected currency expert. What if the goal were to switch to one world currency? How would you get people—or governments—to do that?”
“You’d have to make it worthless,” Kat said. “Then everyone wants out of the weak currency. They’d exchange it for a safer, more stable currency.”
“Exactly. Devalue the dollar, the pound, the yen. Everyone panics, and voilà, you offer one global currency to get them out of the mess they’re in. On your terms, of course.”
“Where do you get this stuff, Jace? You’re completely off the wall.”
“I don’t think so. Look at these lists.” Jace handed Kat a printout of the attendees for each conference. Every year was like a Billboard Top 100. Except it wasn’t the year’s hit songs. It was the year’s heavy hitters—the richest, most powerful, most influential people in the world, for every year going back to 1954.
“The queen of The Netherlands? She’s a philanthropist. The World Institute is a think tank. Nothing strange about that.” Kat skimmed the list. Heavy hitters all right, but nothing that indicated sinister motives.
“She controls one of the biggest oil companies in the world,” Jace said. “It’s more than an interest in humanity. It’s a concentration of power.”
“Even if you’re right, how exactly does this relate back to Nathan Barron and Edgewater?” Kat felt herself being pulled in.
“There’s money to be made, Kat. If you happen to know a currency is about to fall, you can profit from that knowledge.”
“Meaning speculate on it? As in Edgewater’s trades?”
“Exactly,” Jace said. “That’s why we have to expand the scope to include the World Institute. We know Research Analytics plays a major role in Nathan’s fraud. At the very least, we should investigate Research Analytics’ relationship with the World Institute.”
“No, Jace. We only need to provide background on the World Institute and show the money going there. Anything beyond that is out of scope.”
“Why? Aside from the fact the money Nathan’s contributing isn’t actually his, there must be a reason he contributes secretly in the first place. Wouldn’t Zachary want to know that Nathan’s funded an organization that undermines their business?”
Kat sighed. “Fine, as long as Zachary agrees.” She was already certain Zachary would be onside with anything that exposed Nathan’s wrongdoings. “Just keep it focused.”
“We need to go to that conference.”
“Jace, no.” Kat held up her arms to protest. “I don’t mind helping you with a story, but we’re getting sidetracked. We don’t need to go to the conference.”
“But I think it’s in a few days. At least it appears that way, given the information you found in Barron’s email and calendar. It’s held somewhere different every year, usually in a resort just outside of a large city. Last year it was at a Swiss resort, the year before, just outside of New York.”
Kat tapped her forehead in realization. “Nathan’s trip to Geneva this time last year.” She remembered it from his calendar.
“Exactly. The meeting takes place at the same time every year. I’ll bet if you go back a year before that you’ll find a New York trip too.”
“My fees don’t include international travel, Jace. If you want to go on your own dime, fine. Where is it being held this year?”
“I’m not sure. The secrecy extends to not even telling attendees until the last minute. Don’t want a bunch of journalists snooping around.” Jace smiled. “But those are the best places—obviously they’ve got something to hide.”