She lets go of me and steps back. Her brow furrows as she considers my question. “The tone of the emails. They’re just not written like they’d come from a European.”
“What do you mean?”
“Some phrases sound more American than they do French.”
“Are the emails sent to you in French?”
“No, they’re in German. It’s how casual they sound. They’re not the correct conjugations for the situation. French has formal and informal types of address. So does German. It’s also the idioms in the threats.”
“Such as?”
“They used a literal translation of there’s more than one way to skin a cat.Es gibt mehr als einen Weg, eine Katze su häuten. We wouldn’t use that. We’d sayviele Wege führen nach Rom.They used the literal translation for keep your nose out of it.Halt deine Nase da raus. We’d saySeinen Senf dazugeben.”
Many roads lead to Rome. The English would be all roads lead to Rome. Even I know they wouldn’t use the skin a cat one. The other means to add one’s mustard. It means mind your own business.
The men I frequently trade bullets with wouldn’t make those mistakes. They’re too cosmopolitan, and there are too many people in the various families who speak German. Or they’re well connected enough to have a German speaker check their wording.
This speaks to inexperience. It makes me think it’s not somebody from New York.
“Liesel, can you show me the first email they sent you?”
Her lip trembles as she nods. She steps forward, but before she can reach my laptop, I engulf her in another hug. Her forehead rests on my shoulder as she trembles. I run my hand up and down her back, and she sighs before pressing her right hand over my heart.
“I know this has all been too much today, little one. I know you’re exhausted and terrified, but I need to know all of this.”
I try to keep my voice soft, maybe even soothing. I don’t want her to feel worse than she already does.
“It is not just all of that, Jorge. I feel like such an idiot, but I’ve had no one else I could confide in. You know my father didn’t support me when I told him I needed help with all of this. He left me to deal with it alone because I knew I couldn’t trust him. It’s not like I could tell my sister or mother, and I certainly couldn’t tell Bastian, so I’ve just kept this to myself the entire time.”
“That’s exhausting,chiquita, but you don’t have to do this alone anymore. Let me shoulder your burden for a little while.”
“You’re already doing so much for me. I don’t know how I could ever repay you.”
“Chiquita, this isn’t a debt. There’s nothing to repay. I’m not doing this with an expectation that you return any favors. I’m doing this because it’s the right thing to do to help you. You’ve been adjacent to this world, but now it’s sucked you fully in. What else have they expected you to do?”
She releases a shuddering breath. I think she’s surprised I suspected there’s more. But if they already have her working for them, they’ll push until there’s nothing left of her to give.
“Insider trading. I received photos of my sister and her boyfriend in Croatia, followed by a demand for information about client contracts.”
“They wanted to know where the investments were going, and you obliged them.”
“How could I not? They were already extorting me and using my bank accounts. Then they sent me photos of my sister and her boyfriend. These weren’t just photos of them at dinner or on the beach. They were verging on explicit. It was obvious these people had a way to see into the bungalow they were staying in.”
“Did you tell your father or uncle about that?”
She shakes her head against my shoulder. “At that point, what could they have done?”
“Perhaps your father wouldn’t have done much, but your uncle certainly would have.”
She leans away from me as she looks up, her hands resting on my ribs. “What does that mean?”
“Your uncle is a major importer of marijuana and cocaine into the German market. He’s a man with connections he keeps secret. They’re the type of people who could handle this.”
She goes positively rigid. “How do you know that?”
“Because as many secrets as every syndicate has, there are just as many that never stay hidden. We know far too much about each other’s business. That’s why there’s never a clear king of the hill. The power balance only remains balanced because it shifts among us so frequently. No one stays on top or at the bottom for too long. My family knows the O’Rourkes retaliated against the O’Malleys a few years ago by stealing a product shipment Clyde was supposed to bring in. I don’t know what he’s like around family, but he’s one of the most cold-hearted, determined men I’ve met.”
We also know far too much about one another’s proclivities. As much as we want to think we’re different, we’re the same. We’re all kinky fuckers—literally.
