Criminal Mischief Read Free

you’re getting a fat check every month, you’re a victim. No investment company can return ten or fifteen percent.”
    “Suppose I invested in a company like that. Should I pull out?”
    “As fast as you can.”
    “What if they won’t return my money?”
    “Oh, they will, but it will be the money of other investors. If they fail the payout, then you’ll tell all your friends and they’ll tell their friends, and pretty soon the Ponzi guy is either in jail or on a plane to Rio. He wants to keep the ball rolling.”
    “Ah, I see.”
    “Tink, have you invested in something that sounds like that?”
    “Maybe.”
    “Tell me about it.”
    “You just told me. It sounds just like that.”
    “Do you get a monthly statement from these people?”
    “Yes.” She got out of bed, found her handbag, rummaged in it and brought Stone an envelope.
    Stone looked at the return address: One Vanderbilt Avenue .
    “Uh-oh,” he said, and took a sheet of paper from the envelope.
    “What ‘uh-oh’?”
    “Just a minute.” Stone ran a finger down a column of figures. “You’ve got over three hundred thousand dollars invested with these people?”
    “Not people, just the guy.”
    Stone looked at the letterhead. Zanian Growth Fund, One Vanderbilt Avenue.
    “His name is Viktor Zanian. He’s from an old New York Dutch family.”
    “Did you ever look him up in the phone book?”
    “What phone book? There’s no phone book anymore.”
    “Did you look on the Internet?”
    “Yeah, he’s got a sort of hidden website.”
    “I’ll bet he does.”
    “Do you think he might be crooked?”
    “Oh, yes, I think he might just be very crooked.”
    “Why?”
    “For all the reasons I just told you, and one more.”
    “What’s that?”
    “Do you know what One Vanderbilt Avenue is?”
    “An office building?”
    “One Vanderbilt Avenue is the street address of Grand Central Station. This is a mail drop.”
    “A what?”
    “It’s a mailbox—a private service. You can rent one and use that address. Just don’t ever try to visit his office.”
    “Oh, my God,” she muttered.

4
    Once at his desk, Stone called Charley Fox, with whom he was a partner in an investment firm, Triangle Investments, along with Mike Freeman, CEO of Strategic Services, the world’s second-largest security firm.
    “Morning, Charley, it’s Stone.”
    “Morning, Stone.”
    “Charley, have you ever heard of a guy named Zanian?” He spelled it.
    “I knew a guy named Viktor Zanian, who was at Goldman Sachs when I was.”
    “How would you characterize him?”
    “Tricky,” Charley replied. “I’d call him worse, if I had the evidence.”
    “What do you mean?”
    “He left Goldman under a cloud, as they say, but I never understood what kind of cloud. There were rumors, all of them unfavorable, but I never got the whole story. Why are you asking?”
    “A young lady of my acquaintance has an investment account with him, and she gets a fat check every month, more than her investment, three hundred grand, would support.”
    “Uh-oh. Sounds as though old Vik is running a Ponzi scheme.”
    “That’s pretty much what I said when I heard. How do I get her out, clean?”
    “Tell her to write him a letter on her printed letterhead, instructing him to close her accounts and wire the funds to her bank account. I’m assuming she has one. Tell her to make it friendly and nonconfrontational, just to say that she needs her funds immediately, but that she may be able to reinvest them with him later. She should send the letter by registered mail.”
    “And if there’s no response, or an unsatisfactory one?”
    “Tell her to call and write the Securities and Exchange Commission’s enforcement department, but not to hold her breath. Also, if she gets her money back, tell her not to spread any rumors about Zanian. If she does, he’ll trace them back to her.”
    “Is he the type to exact revenge?”
    “He’s the type who knows people who’ll do it for