Out of Bounds
The par 3 eighth is a beautiful 210-yard hole to a small green surrounded by hazards. Dave had birdied the hole last week with a 5-iron.
Today the pin was on the back tier and the wind was slightly in the player’s face. Dave flushed a 4-iron but unfortunately, the wind gusted just as he struck the ball. His ball hit the front of the green, but was a long way from the cup. Par would be tough.
Buzz noticed how the wind had impacted Dave’s ball and decided on 6-iron. Last week he had made a point of letting everyone know he had needed only an 8-iron. His shot was right of the pin but on the back tier, leaving him a makeable12-foot birdie putt.
As we walked to the green, Buzz came along side Dave and told him he was playing good golf. “Your game keeps on improving. Ken would be proud of you.”
“Where did this come from?” Dave thought. “Buzz hadn’t said a word to him all day. What’s gotten into him?”
Switzerland is a beautiful country in the springtime. The snow is still on the Alps and skiers are taking advantage of the vestiges of winter. The ice on the lakes is melted and the waterways are filled with sailboats. The land is lush.
Zurich is about money, not scenery. They are the bankers of the world. The last two years was not a good time for Sven and his partners. As money managers, their sole responsibility was to make a good rate of return for their investors. The European economy sagged and overseas investments became more difficult, particularly in the United States. Since 9/11 and passage of the Patriot Act, investors are required to identify their investment sources. Sven wasn’t sure where some of the money came from, but he had suspicions. It was not all “pension fund money” as his Board Chairman suggested. Deposits ranging from $10M to $50M regularly showed up from untraceable bank accounts in the Bahamas and West Indies. It wasn’t too difficult to guess the likely source of these deposits.
The Chairman of the Executive Committee, known simply as J.R., was due in later today to discuss new investment strategies. Not even Sven knew his real name. Sven was apprehensive. He knew that unless they improved their return to the investors, he would be out of a job. His investments had earned less than 10% over the past two years. Worse, he currently had over $1.5 Billion of funds in short term bonds earning a paltry 3% interest. He needed to invest this money soon.
“Here is what we are going to do, Sven,” J.R. explained. The committee had discussed many investment strategies and had narrowed their options to three. They had just completed their presentation of the strengths and weaknesses of each. Sven had tried to get a reading but J.R.’s face remained impassive.
“We are going to invest in real estate, primarily in North America; hotels, casinos, golf courses, marinas and so forth. I’m talking four and 5-star properties. This is along the lines of your third option, but I want to go a step farther. I want equity participation. Any questions?”
After a few moments, one of the committee members summoned the courage to ask a question that was on everyone’s minds. “We can’t just start buying properties under our own name, can we? We are investment bankers. It would raise questions that we might not be able to answer.”
“Good point, Johan, I’m glad you asked. We are going to do it in steps. In a few days Sven will receive a request to finance several projects in North America. The first project is a hotel and casino in Mexico. We will lend them the money at a nice interest rate, let’s say 6%, but also insist on a stake in the profits, let’s say 25%. Not ownership, just a percent of profits. This will keep us under the radar. We also will stipulate that if certain performance criteria are not met, we will have an option to receive immediate payment or we have the right to foreclose and assume title. That’s how we will get the equity participation. What do you think Sven?”
Sven thought a moment before he replied. J.R. had made his decision. It would be stupid not to jump on the bandwagon before he was left behind. “I like it, J.R. Let someone else take the risk. If it works, we get the benefits. If it doesn’t, 6% interest is still twice what our investments are currently making. The key will be to eventually get control of the projects. That’s where the money is.”
Johan piped in again. “Doesn’t it depend upon the project? If they are bad projects, we will end up owning projects worth nothing.”
“These are quality projects. I have inside sources that assure me that they can’t miss. I can also assure you that our participation will be filtered through a middleman that will have no clue about what they are getting into. Trust me on this.” J.R. looked at Sven and gave the signal to cut the meeting short.
“Okay, if there are no more questions, let’s adjourn. Plan on meeting again after we have received the call and are ready to sign the contracts.”
The next committee meeting was two weeks later when Dave Bradford, Ken Reid and Chris Lewis came to Zurich and made their request, just as JR had predicted.
Dave had 40 feet with 10 feet of right to left break. Judging the speed was even more difficult. It was into the grain and would break towards the water. Not surprisingly, the putt came up four feet short. Buzz’ birdie attempt was inches short and he tapped in for his par.
Bradford spent a long time over his par putt. It was slightly right to left and fairly slow. Standing below the cup, he could see the shine of the grass growing towards him. The grain would accentuate the right to left break. He played the putt an extra ball to the right and watched it die into the top of the cup.
The Chairman called another meeting the week before the scheduled meeting in Cabo San Lucas. Ken Reid was due in Wednesday and J.R. wanted to be ready. He had stayed in Lucerne to avoid the possibility of a chance meeting with the Americans. Friday, after the Board meeting, Dagfin drove J.R. to the airport. Ken’s flight had departed an hour earlier. “Did Ken find the information we wanted him to?” J.R. asked.
“Yes he did. He says he has a friend that can help him trace the numbers.”
“Excellent. You did a nice job, Dag, and you will be rewarded. Now we just need to follow-up in Cabo.”
They pulled up to the Delta terminal and Dag got out to help J.R. with his luggage. As they were shaking hands goodbye, J.R. and Dag saw a man at the ticket counter turn away.
“Did he see us?” J.R. asked.
“I think he did, J.R. and I’m pretty sure he took a picture. This could ruin everything.”
“No, it won’t, I’ll take care of it.” “Just when things were going so well, this had to happen,” he thought, with regret, as he envisioned what he had to do. Ken was his friend.”
Chapter 9
Par 5 - 525 Yards
Kidnapped