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Bank of Moscow Labyrinths. Jossiv Kim
Читать онлайн.Название Bank of Moscow Labyrinths
Год выпуска 2015
isbn 978-5-519-48687-3
Автор произведения Jossiv Kim
Жанр Публицистика: прочее
“But you, certainly, know very well: shares or no shares – they are stripping the budget and credit money”.
“Mr. Kahn, you should not worry about the Russian budget: everything will be as clean as a whistle. Our ‘Bureau’ checked into ‘mommy’, her husband and her son, Alexei Volkov: everything there is pretty normal. She, a typical straight-A student from a good Moscow family, met Igor Kravchenko in 1995 and they became close very soon. Igor saw right away all the opportunities she had, working for Borodin – and got his claws into ‘mommy’. Borodin’s bank lends us money for our defense industry projects. Andrei Borodin asked us to naturalize the Volkova-Kravchenko family in Holland. They have been trying to obtain legal status there for years, but to no avail. Finally, by pure luck, they got connected with you”.
“Can you be that blind? These are nothing but preparations to move the money abroad!”
“Our ‘Bureau’ owns all the information. We are very well aware that two of Borodin’s vice presidents – Dmitry Akulinin and Elena Volkova (by the way, this is her maiden name: when she married Kravchenko, her last name was Furmanova – as in the first marriage) – are busy moving finances to offshore accounts. ‘Mommy’ has a personal contact with one of the bankers in the EFG-Bank in Geneva. Several years ago, the Bank of Moscow’s management did him some favor in Russia. And now Volkova and Borodin’s money flow to Switzerland, to an offshore account. Anyways, we have an order from above: ‘Wait for now. We need Andrei Borodin.’”
“All right. But please keep in mind that I don’t want to be a part of your Russian ‘business’. In February, we filed all of the documents for Volkova’s family. I hope they will get their legal status in Holland by May.”
By 9 in the morning, the office would start coming to life. It was located in the old two-story mansion, built in a Dutch style and decorated with traditional tile. The building stood off the road, surrounded by century-old Canadian maples. The interior design of the office was predominantly nautical-themed. A spacious lobby housed a real marine bar with a counter for beer and wine. The bar walls were decorated with ropes tied in intricate boating knots, various navigational instruments, and marine gear. In the center of the bar area, there was a huge wooden table that had seen many meetings and conferences. Kahn’s firm occupied the whole second floor of the building. The offices of its employees were on both sides of a long and wide hallway. In the very end of the hallway was Kahn’s office. Airy and comfortable, it looked like a room in a maritime museum. Its walls were covered with beautiful sea pieces: a sunset over the Pacific Ocean, ships in a faraway northern harbor… Numerous models of ships from different times, beginning with the 11th century, lined up against the walls: they seemed to be ready to plough through the waves of the North Sea. Kahn loved these early mornings in peace and quiet of his “ship”: his best ideas and creative thoughts came to him there. And it seemed to him that he was young again and commanded his fleet, standing on the captain’s bridge. The rain drizzling endlessly outside – a gift from Gulf Stream – was an organic part of the Netherlands, as familiar to its citizens as a bicycle. Wet, leafless maple branches brushed at times against the balcony, as if reminding Kahn about the coming winter and the overcast sky until spring. Despite that, he was full of energy and ready to work – perhaps, due to fresh air or to the special atmosphere of this place.
As usual, his accountant Svetlana was the first to come.
“Mr. Kahn! I did not expect to see you in the office today: weren’t you supposed to be in Dubai?”
She sat on the chair across from Stas.
“I managed to visit Spain and Poland on the weekend. Nikita sent his plane to pick me up.”
“Mr. Kahn, please accept my condolences on the loss of your Polish friend, Admiral Kalinovsky. I learned about it yesterday, from CNN.”
“Thank you, my dear.” Kahn got up, poured himself a glass of water and felt a lump in his throat.
“Do you think you will be called to duty in the Polish Navy again?” Svetlana asked anxiously.
“No, I have fulfilled my duty, although I will be in reserve until the end of my days. I’m making way for the new generation. Svetlana, I will go now to the customs office: I’ll be back after lunch.”
“All right, and I will work on balance sheet. By the way, one million five hundred seventy five thousand US dollars have been just posted to our account. As I understand, it’s the payment for the cameras from Israel.”
Tajikistan
November, 2009. Moscow
Standing early in the morning at the window of his office on the fifth floor, Borodin was looking at Moscow. From the street, he could hear shouts in an unfamiliar language: Tajik janitors, shoveling away piles of melting greyish snow, were discussing something. As he had many times before, Andrei thought how amazingly industrious people from Central Asia were.
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