The Exchange: After The Firm

The arbitration claim Luca had filed the previous October demanded $410 million in unpaid bills, plus $52 million in interest that had accrued over the past three years. Mitch believed strongly that they should amend the claim, pile on more damages for the bloodshed and kidnapping, and press hard for a settlement. When Luca and Roberto finally agreed, Mitch called Stephen Stodghill, his associate, who was still in New York, and who happened to be asleep at 4 A.M. on a Monday, and instructed him to amend the complaint in Geneva, then meet him in London.

At eleven o’clock Luca retired from the veranda for a quick nap. Mitch went for a stroll around the piazza and called Omar Celik in Istanbul. He was on an airplane somewhere near Japan. Mitch talked to his son, Adem, and informed him of their plans to increase the amount of damages. He did not mention the contact with the kidnappers or the ransom, but that would happen soon enough.

At noon, 6 A.M. in New York, Mitch called Abby and said good morning. Things were fine there. She had talked to her parents at least three times on Sunday and everyone was having a splendid time in Maine. They were not being missed by the boys. No word from Noura.

Luca had an appointment with his doctors at noon and was not available for lunch. Mitch and Roberto walked to a café on a side street away from the tourists. Roberto knew the owner and at least two of the waitresses. With deep frowns and in low voices they inquired about Luca’s health. Roberto passed along the more optimistic version.

Even for an Italian, the ritual of lunch seemed like a waste of time. Who could relax and enjoy food? The two had no experience with hostage negotiations and felt helpless. And what would a professional do? The enemy was unseen, unknown. There was nothing to negotiate, no one to talk to. Noura was just a messenger with no authority. As lawyers they negotiated all the time, back and forth, give and take, as both sides grudgingly inched toward a solution neither really liked. Kidnapping, though, was a different monster because murder was in the equation. But how many professional negotiators had ever dealt with an enemy as savage and inhumane as this one? Chain saws? On video?

They barely touched their pasta.

After the table was cleared and they sipped espressos, Roberto said, “Luca is wealthy by any measure, Mitch, but most of it is old family money. His fine home here has been handed down. He owns the office building. The country home is near Tivoli.”

“I’ve been there,” Mitch said.

“He’s meeting with a banker this afternoon to arrange a mortgage on everything he owns. He thinks it’s around five million. He has liquid assets of roughly the same. He’s putting it all on the table, Mitch. If I had serious money, I would do the same.”

“Me too. But I hate for Luca to lose everything.”

“He can’t lose his daughter, Mitch. Nothing else matters.”

Chapter 28

By 2 P.M. Luca had knocked back two double espressos and was ready for action. He greeted an important visitor at the front door and escorted him to the veranda where he introduced him to Roberto and Mitch. His name was Diego Antonelli and, according to Roberto, he was a career diplomat in the foreign service and had known Luca for many years. Supposedly, he could be trusted with secrets and had contacts in the prime minister’s office.

Mr. Antonelli seemed ill at ease and Mitch got the impression he felt too important to make house calls. A light rain began so Luca invited everyone to his dining table where coffee and water were served. He thanked Mr. Antonelli for coming and said there had been a major development in the kidnapping.

Roberto took notes. Mitch listened as intently as possible. He always appreciated Luca’s Italian because it was slow and thoughtful, easier to follow. Mr. Antonelli, who no doubt spoke multiple languages, also spoke with perfect diction. Roberto, on the other hand, began each sentence in a mad dash to get to the end of it. Mercifully, he said little.

Luca told the story of the mysterious Noura and her contact with Abby McDeere in New York: the meetings, the photographs, the phones, and eventually the demand for ransom. The deadline was May 25, and, given their recent history, it was their belief that the terrorists would not hesitate to carry out the execution.

He made it clear that they had not contacted him or anyone else. They had chosen his law firm and had done so on American soil. In his opinion, it was not wise to involve the Italian police or intelligence services, nor those in Great Britain.

Antonelli took no notes, never touched his pen, nor his coffee. He absorbed every word as if filing away the details in perfect order. Occasionally, he glanced at Mitch with a mildly disdainful look, as if he really didn’t belong at the table.

Luca asked him to inform the foreign minister, who should then inform the prime minister.

“How do you know she’s still alive?” Antonelli asked.