In Europe, the preparations were complete. At the beginning of July, a courier arrived from the United States and delivered to Ledl a list of securities then flowing from the presses in New York and Los Angeles. This was the moment to enlist the last recruit, Rudolph Guschall, the lawyer and notary who would put a gloss of legality on the affair.
Marina Neubert called him at his room in a Frankfurt hospital, where for nearly a month he had been recuperating from a serious illness. They had known each other for two years, from the time Guschall had been handling the legal end of the sale of an Italian aircraft plant to some German clients and had found himself trapped in the maze of conflicting international regulations. He had turned for help to the Italian attorney general’s office, and Neubert, as assistant to Deputy Attorney General Spadaro, had been instrumental in guiding him through the labyrinth. Now, during that call to his hospital room, she told him that she needed his legal help. She launched into a disingenuous story, knowing that Guschall would never participate in a scheme that was patently illegal. A friend named Leopold Ledl, she said, was the European representative of an American firm, the Evans Import Trading Company of New York. It was his desire to turn over to her a large number of bonds in several American corporations, to sell or use as collateral for loans. In order to expedite the transaction, they needed the services of a lawyer to draw up a power of attorney for Ledl and the Evans company, which named her as the recipient of those securities. She had immediately thought of Guschall because they had worked together so successfully in the past.
On July 9, Neubert, carrying with her a portable typewriter, and Ledl appeared in Guschall’s hospital room. As Ledl dictated, Neubert typed out a document. Guschall read it and though Ledl had brought no securities with him—they were still being worked on by Benjamin in Los Angeles—he notorized the agreement. It declared that the Evans Import Trading Company was turning over to Marina Neubert 498 bonds of American Telephone and Telegraph Company, valued at $4,980,000; 259 bonds of General Electric Company, valued at $2,590,000; 412 bonds of Chrysler Corporation, valued at $2,060,000; and 479 bonds of Pan American World Airways, valued at $4,780,000—a total of $14,410,000 worth of bonds. Neubert was empowered to act as Evans’s agent in the sale of those bonds or to obtain loans against them and for her services would be paid one-quarter of one percent of what she raised.
The need for such an agreement had been evident to Ledl for some time, though it could not have been implemented until he received word of just what securities his American partners were going to supply. It would be tempting fate, he knew, for anyone to walk around with so many securities worth so much without proof of ownership or the right to possess them. A notarized agreement relating to their possession was, then, an essential precaution. And the use of Neubert’s name was another, for with her trusted position in the Italian attorney general’s office, any searching inquiries would probably be blunted.
All that was needed then were the bonds, and they were on the way. Jerry Marc Jacobs and Ense were in daily telephone contact during the time they were being prepared, their final conversation taking place only hours before Jacobs and Grant departed, Jacobs giving Ense their flight number and time of arrival in Munich. The moment he knew they were moving, Ense alerted Ledl in Vienna and then, leaving Ajzen behind in Munich, to meet Grant and Jacobs and accompany them the rest of the way, summoned his car and chauffeur and headed south for Rome.
Ledl called Tomasso Amato, told him to inform Cardinal Tisserant’s assistant, the archbishop, and Bishop Marcinkus that the securities would be arriving within twenty-four to forty-eight hours and that they should be prepared to take delivery. Then he boarded a plane for Munich, with connecting reservations for Rome.
Early on Sunday, July 18, 1971, Grant and Jacobs, with the suitcase crammed with $14.5 million in counterfeit bonds, landed in Munich. Ajzen and Ledl were there to meet them. For the next three hours, they sat around the airport, had lunch, talked idly, barely referring to the contents of that suitcase. Then Ledl continued alone on a plane south. Jacobs, Grant and Ajzen made a flight a little later.
Early that evening, all the conspirators reached Rome. Ledl was with Amato and Neubert in their apartment. Jacobs, Grant, Ajzen and Ense were at the Cavalieri Hilton Hotel, the suitcase on a bed in Jacobs’s room. All seven met later that evening for dinner in the rooftop restaurant of the Hilton, dined leisurely, talked calmly about the impending events, trying to control their mounting excitement. Ledl casually asked if he might see some of the merchandise. Ajzen and Jacobs obliged, went downstairs, returned with a few packets. Ledl looked at them, smiled with satisfaction, handed them back. Had they been arranged in serial order?
Jacobs didn’t know. It might be well, Ledl said, if that were done. As Ledl, Amato and Neubert were preparing to leave, Ledl said that the initial contact would be made in the morning, the first step toward consummating the deal.
Jacobs, Grant and Ajzen worked until two in the morning to group the certificates by corporation and then by serial number. When they had finished, the bonds were put back into the suitcase and Grant took it with him to his room for the night.
Now it was all in Ledl’s hands. In the morning, he, Amato and Neubert appeared early at the Cavalieri Hilton. Ledl asked for the suitcase. Grant brought it to him. Ledl said there was no need for Jacobs, Grant or Ense to go along on this errand. Ajzen might accompany them; he was a powerful man and might prove useful as a bodyguard if that were necessary, but the others should stay behind.
Jacobs objected. He and his father had not done so much and he had not traveled so far only to be cut out at the last moment. He did not want to let that suitcase out of his sight until the exchange had been made.
No exchange was to be made that morning, Ledl said. This was only a preliminary meeting for the purpose of an examination of the certificates by one of the interested parties. There was no need for Jacobs to be there.
That didn’t matter, Jacobs said. He was determined to be present.
It would serve no useful purpose, Ledl said. Jacobs did not know the man they were to meet, did not understand Italian, would merely be in the way.
He was in charge of the securities, Jacobs said.
Very well, Ledl said. If Jacobs thought he could handle the deal himself, Ledl would bow out and Jacobs could try.
Ledl knew that was impossible, Jacobs said. It was just that he had his instructions from his father and Rizzo and the others in America.
But they were in Rome now, Ledl said, and the people in Rome were the people that Ledl knew and who knew Ledl. They would do it Ledl’s way or they would not do it. He had had arguments about things like that with Ricky Jacobs and Ricky had learned that Leopold Ledl did not joke about important things. It was time for Jerry Jacobs to understand what his father already knew.
Jerry Jacobs understood when to retreat. He did not relish doing so. He was not happy watching Ledl, Amato, Neubert, Ajzen and the suitcase disappear down the avenue. But, he told himself, what else could he do?
Within a half-hour, Ledl and his companions were at the office of Fondinvest-Begni on the Via Nazionale, near the Bank of Italy. Remigio Begni greeted Ledl, Amato and Neubert warmly, ignored Ajzen, whom he did not know. He asked to see the merchandise. Ajzen hefted the suitcase onto a desk. Begni opened it, took a sample certificate from each package, studied the samples. They looked very good to him, he said, expert work. But, still, he would like to take the samples over to their man at the Bank of Italy for his expert opinion.
Did Begni have any doubts? Amato asked.
No, Begni said. But they looked so legitimate he wanted to make sure they were counterfeits and not stolen ones that might be on the hot list.
They were exactly what Cardinal Tisserant had asked for, Ledl said.
Then there should be no objection to the man from the Bank of Italy examining them, Begni said, just to be completely certain. They were very good, he repeated, so good, in fact, that he thought it essential they be checked against the American hot list. One never knew when the Americans were trying to put something over on the Europeans.
If Begni insisted, Ledl said, then, of course, he would have no objection.
Begni left. For two hours, they waited in that small office for his return. When he reappeared, he smiled with satisfaction and nodded. The man at the bank, he said, had examined the bonds very carefully. They were absolutely first-rate and would serve admirably. The news would be passed on and the deal could now proceed.
Where, Amato asked, were the samples?
He had left them at the bank, Begni said.
Why had he done that?
Since some of them were destined for the bank anyway, Begni said, their friend had asked if he might keep them.
Had their friend at the Bank of Italy paid for them?
No, of course not.
If he had not paid, Amato said, then Begni must go back and reclaim them.
Begni objected.
Amato slapped him across the face, hard, then slapped him a second time. They were not giving the paper away, he said. If Begni did not want something worse than a few slaps, he had better return to the bank and get those certificates immediately.
Begni began to frame another objection, but when he looked at Amato, at Ledl, at Neubert, he kept silent, turned and left the office. Within ten minutes he was back, the certificates in his pocket, full of apologies for what had obviously been only a minor misunderstanding, one that would certainly not affect the deal. The Vatican had been informed and in the morning they were to call at the cardinal’s office to seal the transaction.
With the contents of the suitcase once more intact, Ledl, Amato, Neubert and Ajzen returned to the Cavalieri Hilton, to the anxious Jacobs, Grant and Ense. Ledl assured them there was nothing to be concerned about. Everything had gone well. The next day, the bonds would be turned over to the Vatican, where they would be approved so that the rest of the deal could then move forward. Meanwhile, he said, he wanted to take them all for a drive, at the end of which they would have lunch and “meet a very important person.”
The group piled into Amato’s car, headed out of Rome into an isolated area in the hills above the city, stopping at a small café, only a terrace with four tables. Spread out in the distance was a view of the city, its towers and domes reflecting the brilliant glow of the summer afternoon sun. A couple of tables were pulled together to accommodate them. Aperitifs were brought. Amato told them their guest would be arriving momentarily.
It was a half-hour before a new BMW sedan turned off the mountain road and parked beside the café. A priest emerged, saw them, smiled broadly, waved. Amato, Neubert and Ledl rose and hurried to greet him. Amato called him “Your Excellency.” Ledl addressed him as “Monsignor Alberto.” He was introduced to the others only as “the man who has helped us make the deal for the merchandise.” He was Monsignor Alberto Barbieri, friend to those in high places. He had joined them not merely to share a good lunch but also to bring the instructions for the delivery of the suitcase the next day.
Early Tuesday, July 20, the conspirators set out for Vatican City. In one car were Jacobs, Grant and Ense. They were merely to wait outside, watch and hope. Jacobs did not like that arrangement, wanted to accompany Ledl directly into the Vatican and be present at whatever transpired. Ledl would not hear of it. Jacobs was forced to capitulate. But he had one final word for Ledl. “Don’t take lire,” he said. “We don’t have a truck big enough to hold that many lire.” Even after kicking back the Vatican’s share, Jacobs was expecting to take away nearly $6 million, and at the current rate of exchange that would add up to more than 3.5 billion lire. “We’ll only accept dollars or German marks,” he said.
Ledl appeared a trifle surprised, said, “Do not worry. I know what must be done. Leave it to me.” He got into the second car with Ajzen and Amato (Neubert remained home this day). They paused once along the way, to pick up Begni, then drove across Trevere and on to Vatican City, parking just outside the wall, near the Bancus Spiritus Sanctus. The four left the car, walked into the city, made their way to the office of the archbishop. He was not there. The priest in the outer office explained that unfortunately the archbishop had been called away from the Vatican and would not return for three or four hours. If they liked, they could wait or go away and return in the afternoon.
They stood outside the office in the corridor, uncertain as to their next move. Suddenly, the priest appeared, hurrying toward them. He had been mistaken, he said. The archbishop was not out of the Vatican as he had believed. He was actually with Cardinal Tisserant and was waiting for them in the cardinal’s office. Ledl led them in that direction.
Cardinal Tisserant greeted them jovially, slapping Ledl on the shoulders, bellowing his inevitable, “Ah, my friend, Johann Strauss from Vienna, is here again.” He spied the suitcase in Ajzen’s grasp. “Ah,” he said, “I see you have brought what we ordered.”
“Yes, Your Eminence,” Ledl said. “In that suitcase is the sample of the merchandise for your inspection.”
The suitcase was opened. Tisserant and the archbishop peered into it, lifted a few of the packets, inspected them closely. “They are very good,” the archbishop told Ledl.
“They are acceptable?” Ledl asked.
“Yes,” the archbishop said. “And you will be able to deliver the rest on schedule?”
“Certainly,” Ledl said. “There will be no difficulty.”
“Good,” the archbishop said. “I assume,” he added, “that you would like to be paid for the sample.”
“Yes, of course,” Ledl said. “But I must tell you something. My associates say they will not accept payment in lire. They desire dollars or deutsche marks.”
The two prelates exchanged surprised looks. This was an unexpected development. What Ledl’s associates were asking for, even after the twenty-five percent kickback, was about $6 million. The archbishop shook his head sadly. If Ledl would agree to accept lire, the payment could be arranged within a few hours by Bishop Marcinkus. While he could appreciate the physical difficulty entailed in transporting that many lire, still … dollars or deutsche marks? There were just not that many in Rome, and certainly not in the Vatican, that could be easily diverted at a moment’s notice without prior warning.
The archbishop went into a whispered conversation with Cardinal Tisserant. He turned back to Ledl. They had come up with a possible solution, he said. If Ledl would travel to Turin, the archbishop would meet him there and they would get together with the official in charge of the Italian banks. That man should be able to supply the requested dollars and deutsche marks. Of course, the Vatican would not think of keeping the securities at this point. Ledl should take them away until the meeting in Turin. Was that acceptable?
Was there any alternative? Ledl said they would meet again in Turin.
Yes, the archbishop said. And Ledl could inform his associates that the Vatican was pleased and they could proceed with the rest of the arrangement.
Meanwhile, outside the Vatican walls, Jacobs, Grant and Ense were growing very nervous as time passed and there was no sign of Ledl or the others. They had seen them walk away, had not seen exactly where they had gone. Because of the spot where they were parked, there was an assumption that they had gone into the Bancus Spiritus Sanctus, and they had not emerged. Grant was told to go into the bank and cash a traveler’s check, see what he could see. He recognized nobody in the bank, returned to the car and took up the watch once more. “We started feeling funny about being outside of the bank for such a long time,” Grant would later say, “figuring that the police would stop us as possible bank robbers.” Grant told Ense and Jacobs they could stay and keep vigil if they wanted, but he was going back to the hotel; maybe the others had somehow returned already, even though Amato’s car was still parked just down the street. Just as Grant was entering the Cavalieri Hilton, he heard Jerry Jacobs being paged for a telephone call. He took it. It was Ajzen. Grant told him where Jacobs and Ense were. Ajzen said he would gather them and then they were all to meet at the bar in the Excelsior Hotel.
At the Excelsior, Ledl waited until everyone had had a drink, refused to answer their questions until they had relaxed. Then he said, “There were a few problems. It is nothing important. But we must go to Turin. There, you will get your money.”