It’s a bright and sunny day on the Boulevard Risso in Nice, next to the Acropolis Conference Center, aka the Palais des Congres. Kadin clambers out of the limousine sent to retrieve him, having been picked up across town at Negresco Hotel where he is staying. The Negresco sits across from the beach on the Promenade des Anglais and Nice’s azure Bay of Angels.
Kadin gets out of the car next to a line of canary island palms that separate the driveway drop off zone from the one way street. He glances at the Conference Center, several stories of blue transparent glass with a clearly visible interior supporting structure. This glass portion of the building connects the old, white stucco section of the Acropolis with the new exhibition and concert halls on the north end. The Societe d’ Exploitation de Nice Acropolis is in offices somewhere near the top. It manages one of the largest convention and exhibition spaces in all of France, totaling nearly a million square feet in size. The South end faces the Arts Promenade, a geometrically organized public park with a Sosno sculpture, known as the square head or Tete Carree. The grey sculpture of a human head is seventy-five feet tall and is an attempt to give form to the idea of obliteration. The sculpture is as tall as the Acropolis complex itself, which sits just North and alongside it. On the opposite end of the Center is a modern, de-constructivist concert hall that seats thousands called the Apollon and this is where Kadin is ultimately headed.
Kadin looks up to see an attractive woman in her thirties smiling back at him. She quickly descends a set of concrete steps and wastes no time in extending a delicate hand from the sleeve of a blue serge business suit.
“Hello, I’m Jeanne Mellot, with the Society,” she says in greeting him, her auburn hair swirling around her shoulders in the warm afternoon breeze coming off the Mediterranean.
“How are you? Kadin Sa’d,” he returns, shaking her hand and then gesturing to the young couple rounding the vehicle from the other side, “This is Samira Veena, my assistant, and Connor Kalil, security.”
“Nice to meet you both,” she says, shaking their hands before stepping back and addressing Kadin.
“How about we get you something to eat?” she asks.
Jeanne leads them up a phalanx of concrete steps, under the glass awning, and into the foyer of the reception hall. Escalators run in various directions to different halls. Jeanne chooses one taking them to the second floor, where they cross brightly striated, multi-color carpeting to the Hermes lounge, a mahogany wood and leather restaurant where the Societe intends to treat one of the conference’s speakers and his guests.
Jeanne spots a well-dressed man a few years older than herself as they walk in. He steps over and she introduces him to Kadin as Mathieu Severin, a friend.
“Mr. Sa’d, I have long wanted to meet you. I am with SG Bank. Would you mind if I join you?’ he asks.
“As long as we don’t discuss business, of course,” Kadin replies.
“I wouldn’t think of it,” Mathieu says courteously.
“Well, then by all means,” Kadin replies, gesturing toward the table Connor and Samira have been led to by the hostess.
Mathieu puts his hand on Jeanne’s back and escorts her to their table, drawing her chair.
“You’re not a frequent attender of Global Security Summits, are you Mr. Sa’d?” he asks as Jeanne takes the seat.
Kadin laughs.
“No. Not usually.”
“What brings you to this one?” Mathieu asks.
“Curiosity. What brings you?”
“Why, Jeanne of course. I happened to be visiting her, although I live in Paris. I was with her when she received your call and told her how much I would like to meet you.”
“Actually, I called for Mr. Sa’d,” interjects Samira, picking up a menu.
“Yes, of course. And very lucky for me. How many Sovereign Wealth Funds do you help manage?”
Kadin sits back, relaxing into his chair, toying with his menu as if about to turn it into a frisbee, one that he can aim at Mathieu’s head.
“Several. And how about yourself? How many Sovereigns does your bank participate in?”
Mathieu only smiles and Jeanne tries to save him.
“Really? Sovereign Wealth Funds?” she asks.
“Government controlled investment funds,” Kadin clarifies. “Central Bank reserves, public pension funds, oil and other commodities, extraction revenues. The Chinese have a couple trillion in them. Of course, theirs is mostly manufacturing revenue. Sovereigns make up half the value of the global economy. These are public assets, controlled by over a hundred national Sovereign Wealth Funds and practically as many countries.”
“An immense concentration of the world’s wealth,” Mathieu observes.
“In the hands of a few. I know, I’ve heard it before.”
“In the hands of politicians.” Mathieu adds.
“Who do what? Invest politically?” asks Kadin, drawing Mathieu out.
“Who distort the mechanisms of the free market. After all, the free market is supposed to be open and transparent to the public. It is supposed to assure basic honesty.”
“And guarantee the fairness of commercial transactions. I know,” Kadin finishes for him, “Maintain the inviolability of honest and fair commercial transactions. Make sure there is nothing hidden, that everything is on the table for everyone to see. No politics involved. I get it.”
“I’m not sure you do. The maneuverings of Sovereign Wealth by very political countries is inherently and by its very nature anything but transparent. In fact, it is rather quite opaque. The very fundamental basis of politics is, of course, obfuscation,” Mathieu states with conviction.
“Credit and capital flows are being politicized is your point,” Kadin finds this tact interesting enough.
“These governments play an important role in regulating the markets. What happens if they also have a lot of their own wealth invested in those same markets?”
“A conflict of interest is inevitable,” ventures Kadin.
“But is it big enough to bring down those same markets?”
“I don’t know. How big an interest conflict is possible?”
“On the part of a government?” Mathieu is lost for a moment in his own rhetoric.
“When do the interests of major international corporations merge with those of certain governments against the interests of transparency and the public interest? I suppose this is what you’re asking.” Kadin is not afraid to get aboard this train of logic.
“Enough control to write their own truth. Which,” says Mathieu with a winning smile, “would produce major distortions in capital markets. Who knows how bad it could get before threatening a worldwide financial catastrophe.”
Connor and Samira have engaged the wait staff and are giving their orders. Jeanne
is giving Mathieu her rapt attention.
Kadin laughs.
“I’m not going to ask what you do for Societe Generale,” he says to Mathieu.
Kadin then turns to Jeanne.
“But I’m glad you brought your friend here,” he says to her.
“We just wanted to help you get ready for your presentation,” she replies.
“Ramp me up?”
“I hope that doesn’t offend you,” Jeanne says, practically giggling. She holds his gaze, a not unpleasant experience for any man to endure, peering at him from over the top of her menu.
Chapter 65