Geneva Connection, The (18 page)

Kent looked at the various supporting documents: the key verification papers and agreements, including the investment agreement between the three families behind Tritona. He flipped through the passport copies of Hans Deutchman, Franz Needmeier and Andrees Kvarnback.

Something made him take a second look, and this time it jumped out at him. “A—N—D—R—E—E—S.”

It’s spelled wrong. It ought to say “Andreas.”
He stared at the copy of the passport photo then walked over to his desk, reached for his keyboard and powered up his search engine. He typed in “Andrees Kvarnback.” The screen flashed up, “Your search—andrees kvarnback—did not match any documents.”

This is weird
.

He punched in “Andreas Kvarnback” and the search engine came back with more than three thousand results.

He scrolled down through the results. Most of them referred to “Andreas Kvarnback” and “Svensk Pharmaceuticals,” the SEC listed pharmaceuticals group of companies. He clicked on a few links and tracked down a PDF copy of the latest published report and accounts for the group. He turned to the chairman’s report and saw a large color photograph of the chairman, Andreas Kvarnback. Kent compared it to the passport photo on the compliance file.
Definitely the same person.

Henning was right; his friend’s client was the chairman and controlling shareholder in Svensk Pharmaceuticals and this client was, indeed, one of the investors in Tritona.
But why didn’t Henning’s friend know of his client’s existing investment in Tritona?
Kent continued staring at the copy of the passport photo page and at the computer screen in front of him. The incorrect spelling in the passport makes no sense.
Surely, Andreas Kvarnback himself would have picked up a mistake in his own passport?

What the hell is this all about? Was this why Henning was so worried? Had he taken the time to look at the compliance file and found the same thing?
He’d always been a stickler for detail.

He stood up, grabbed the file and ran downstairs to the security reception to speak to Chapman.

“Do you have a moment, Bill?”

“Of course, Mr. Kent,” replied Chapman, from behind the desk.

“Good. Let’s use this office for a moment.”

They walked into a small office just across the hall from the security desk, and Kent closed the door behind them.

“Am I being fired?” asked Chapman. “Tell me straight.”

“No. What makes you think that?”

“It’s just we’ve never discussed anything before other than at my desk. Now we’re standing in an office behind a closed door.”

“No. Relax, Bill. I need your help. That’s all. Grab a seat.”

“Thank goodness for that.”

They both sat at the small table. “What I’m about to share with you has to remain absolutely confidential. I mean no one can know about this,” Kent said, lowering his voice.

“I can assure you it will remain only with me. Whatever it is.”

“It’s a delicate matter.”

“How I can help? Is it a staff problem? Has someone been stealing?”

“No. Nothing like that.”

“Oh.” Chapman looked disappointed.

“Are you still in contact with any of your old army intelligence colleagues?”

“Tell me what you need, and I’ll let you know if I can help.”

Kent opened the file in his hand and placed it in front of them. “You see this passport photo page? Does anything jump out at you?”

Chapman studied the copy for a few moments. “Can I take it off the file?”

“Sure.”

Chapman held the document up to the light, turned it around, then upside down, narrowing his eyes as he did so.

“Anything?” asked Kent.

“No. Not really.”

“I need to know if there’s something not right about it.” He decided not to mention the spelling of the passport holder’s name.

“It’s obviously not a British passport.”

“Yes, but I mean anything else besides that.”

“Do you have something in mind? Can you give me a clue what you’re looking for?”

“I just need to know there’s nothing wrong with it. That’s all. Call it, in-depth verification, if you like.”

“There are a couple of retired contacts I have who know a thing or two about identification papers. You know, driving licenses, work permits, passports, and so on. I’d be happy to run this by them.”

“I’d really appreciate that. Let me make a few good quality photocopies for you.” Kent stood up and grabbed the file. “I’d prefer you not to say anything about CBC when you speak to your contacts.”

“There’s no reason for me to say anything to them about the firm. I’ll just give them copies of the page and ask if anything appears unusual to them. They don’t need to know who’s interested or why.”

“I owe you one for this.”

“Don’t mention it. I’m happy to help. It’s nice to start using the old gray matter again.”

“Thanks, Bill.”

“Give me a few days, and I’ll let you know what turns up.”

Chapter 26

A W
EEK
L
ATER
, as Kent arrived at work, Chapman suggested it would be a good idea if they could meet at some point in the day. Kent arranged to meet him midmorning; he was already scheduled to meet with a management team who were coming in at nine a.m. to discuss a potential transaction with him and George Townsend, another of Kent’s partners. He thought about canceling the meeting as he wanted to hear what Chapman had to say, but it could wait another couple of hours. He’d thought about little else over the past few days, trying to rationalize the passport and why Henning’s friend knew nothing about his client’s involvement in private equity. None of it made sense.

The meeting with the management team dragged on, and Kent found it difficult to concentrate on the potential deal. He was anxious to find out what Chapman had learned. He hoped it would put his mind at rest or, at least, provide some answers. In the end, he made his excuses and left Townsend to finish off the meeting on his own.

Just after eleven thirty, he ran downstairs to see Chapman.

“I had a word with one of my contacts, as I said I would,” said Chapman, closing the door behind him.

“Great. What did they say?”

“I don’t know if it’s good news or bad.”

“Go on.”

“It’s a forgery.”

Kent slumped in one of the chairs, exhaling loudly through his nose. He didn’t say anything for a few moments as he digested the news.

Jesus, what the hell does this mean?

“And they could tell that from a photocopy?”

“There’s no doubt about it.”

“How?”

“Take a look at the passport.” Chapman drew up a chair next to Kent and pointed to the photocopy. “It’s only two years old. According to my contact, Sweden adopted the standard format of the European Union passport three years ago. Although unexpired, old-style passports would still be valid, all new passports had to follow the EU format.”

“So what style is this one?”

“The old style which means it can’t be legit.”

“Are you absolutely certain about this?”

“When this passport was made two years ago, no old-style passports were being issued by Sweden. Whoever created it did a great job at replicating the old format, but they screwed up by not following the new format.”

“How confident are you that your contact is right about this, Bill? It’s massively important.”

“There’s no doubt.” Chapman smiled. “Let’s just say counterfeit passports are his specialty, but I’d prefer to leave it at that.”

Kent was not about to press Chapman any further. He was in enough trouble already. “I’m not sure I wanted to hear it’s a forgery, but thanks for your help on this. I know you’ll keep it to yourself.”

Chapman nodded. “Is there anything else you want me to do on this?”

Kent shook his head no. “You’ve been a great help. I owe you one.”

Kent spent the rest of the day in his office thinking about the counterfeit passport and Andreas Kvarnback.

What does it all mean? Does Tritona know the passport isn’t authentic? Have they been misled by their Swedish investor, too? What if the Swede isn’t an investor at all? What if Tritona are hiding the real source of their money?
His mind ran wild with theories. Whatever the explanation, he knew it was suspicious and that he’d have to notify the matter to the UK’s National Crime Agency, or NCA for short.

The penalty for not filing a report of a well-founded suspicion was fourteen years in prison, and Kent wasn’t about to risk that. He wanted to discuss the matter with Baumgart first, but that was a nonstarter. It was also a criminal offense to tip-off the party under suspicion. Kent knew Tritona may be as innocent as CBC but, under the law, he had no choice but to report what he knew.

Could there be a legitimate explanation for all this?
Kent couldn’t see one.
Either Kvarnback’s up to something or Tritona are
, he thought.
Either way, it’s bad for CBC
. He decided to sleep on things before taking any action. It was too important a matter to make a snap decision only to regret it later.

Early the following morning, after a restless night, Kent was sitting in his quiet office, before any staff had arrived. By now, he’d reached the conclusion that someone had tried to deceive him and that there was no credible innocent explanation. He realized this could even spell the end of his profitable relationship with Tritona. The implications of that for his firm were unimaginable.

This could be a complete fucking disaster.

Kent was certain of one thing: the law required him to notify the authorities. He took out a pad of paper and began drafting the letter he’d send to the NCA. He wondered how to start. His words needed to concentrate less on whom he suspected, as he was still not sure about that, and more on the details relating to the passport. There was no need to mention Chapman or his army intelligence contacts. None of that was relevant.

The authorities don’t need to know how I found out about Swedish passports
, he figured
. Keep it brief; stick to the facts
.

Kent told Tara to hold all his calls when she arrived for the day and then closed his office door. He wanted some peace to concentrate on the letter without interruptions. It took him most of the morning and several drafts.

It’s got to be right
, he thought
. This letter may be CBC’s death warrant.

He wasn’t hungry at lunchtime so he took a walk around the Science Park to get some air, and to chew over the letter in his mind. When he returned to the office, he read his draft one more time and decided it was ready.

Once I let this go, there’s no going back.

He called Tara into his room. “I need you to type up a letter for me, but you need to keep the subject matter in strict confidence. You can’t mention it to anyone.”

“What’s it about?” she asked.

“Listen, I don’t want to talk about it right now.” He handed Tara the letter. While she had no idea about the significance of the document she’d just received, Kent had no illusions as to the massive step he’d just taken. Now he’d involved someone else in his discovery.

“Okay. Do you want me to drop what I’m doing now to work on this?”

“Please. Do it straightaway. It’ll be obvious why when you read it.” Tara returned to her desk and began to read:

“Dear Sir/Madam,

“I am the CEO of Cambridge Buy-Out Capital (CBC). CBC is a private equity fund manager. The firm is authorized and regulated by the Financial Conduct Authority (FCA).

“More than ninety percent of the funds managed by this firm have come from one investor. This investor is a multifamily office called Tritona, based in Geneva. When CBC accepted Tritona as an investor a few months ago, we were informed that there were three families whose wealth is managed by Tritona. These families are the Needmeiers, Deutchmans, and the Kvarnbacks, all of whom are well known amongst the business community in Europe.

“As part of our due diligence and compliance procedures, we examined a number of documents to confirm the identity of Tritona and the families behind them. It is in this connection that I wish to file a suspicious activity report.

“It has come to our attention that Swedish passports changed in format three years ago, moving to the new EU format. However, one of the passports we have received to confirm the identity of Andreas Kvarnback, a Swedish national, is in the old format and yet it is only two years old. Furthermore, the spelling of his name on the attached photo page of Mr. Kvarnback’s passport is incorrect.

“I confirm that I have not raised the matter with either Tritona or Andreas Kvarnback so as to avoid ‘tipping off.’”