Swimming with Sharks Read online

  The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.

  Text copyright © 2005 by Nele Neuhaus

  English translation copyright © 2013 by Christine M. Grimm

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the publisher.

  Swimming with Sharks was first published in 2005 as Unter Haien. Translated from German by Christine M. Grimm. Published in English by AmazonCrossing in 2013.

  Published by AmazonCrossing

  PO Box 400818

  Las Vegas, NV 89140

  ISBN-13: 9781611099256

  ISBN-10: 1611099250

  Library of Congress Control Number: 2012920274

  For Milla, my little sister and Matthias, my great love.

  CONTENTS

  Letter to the Reader

  PROLOGUE

  PART ONE

  PART TWO

  PART THREE

  PART FOUR

  EPILOGUE

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  Letter to the Reader

  A lot has happened since 2005 when this book was first published independently with a print run of five hundred copies. I’ve met many people who’ve accompanied and supported me along the way. I’d like to thank several of them here: First of all, my parents Dr. Bernward and Carola Löwenberg, my sisters Claudia Cohen and Camilla Altvater, and my brother-in-law Bruno Cohen, who translated this book into French—just for fun! Thanks also go to my agent, Andrea Wildgruber, and her colleagues from the Agence Hoffman literary agency in Munich. Special thanks to Susanne Hecker, who made particularly great contributions to this book. Susanne, you are simply wonderful! Thank you to Catherine Hackl for her work on reading the translated manuscript. And thank you to Gabriella Page-Fort, Declan Spring, and the entire team at AmazonCrossing—thanks to you all, my dream of bringing Swimming with Sharks to America has come true.

  My biggest thanks go to my partner, Matthias Knöß. I’d only be half of what I am without you. I love you.

  Nele Neuhaus

  January 2013

  PROLOGUE

  February, 1998—New York City

  Vincent Levy was lost in thought. He stared out the window of his office on the LMI Building’s thirtieth floor. On this somber Friday afternoon, the Verrazano-Narrows Bridge was barely visible to the east. The Statue of Liberty raised her arm, and boats cruising New York Harbor drew white, foamy stripes in the churned-up black water. Snowflakes whirled through the air, and an icy east wind whistled around the glass facades of the skyscrapers. Vincent, in his early fifties, was already the fourth Levy in the firm. His great-great-uncle had founded the bank Levy & Villiers in 1902. Thanks to a prudent and conservative strategy, the firm had managed to safely navigate nearly a century’s worth of storms and scandals in the financial world. But unlike his predecessors, Vincent Levy wasn’t satisfied with simply leading a prestigious private bank. He started transforming the venerable private bank into a major investment bank during the mid-1980s, making the Levy & Villiers bank into the holding company of Levy Manhattan Investments. With a strong financial partner offering the possibility of becoming a global financial giant, Levy acquired competitors. He invested millions in computer technology and involved LMI in every important financial center of the world. Levy wasn’t afraid of spectacular innovations. In fifteen years, Levy—with strategic skill, vision, and well-camouflaged ruthlessness—had successfully turned LMI into an investment bank with more than two thousand employees worldwide. Every department had a strong leader who knew how to get the best out of its employees, whether trading in foreign bonds, derivatives, securities, OTC, syndicated loans, index and risk arbitrage, futures, or private equity. LMI’s reputation grew, with brokers on the NYSE trading floor and about two hundred traders on LMI’s fourteenth floor generating enormous revenues and profits.

  Although LMI was a major market player in many areas, Levy had failed to recruit a real rainmaker in the one that was dearest to his heart. Other players on Wall Street were pulling the strings in the field of mergers and acquisitions. Incredible amounts of money were flowing into people’s pockets, sidestepping LMI in the current M&A boom—an almost unbearable situation! But this would soon change. The previous night he had heard that Alexandra Sontheim—the brightest star in Wall Street’s M&A sky—had quit Morgan Stanley and was looking for a new job. Someone knocked on the door, and Levy’s gaze turned from the harbor.

  “Hello, St. John,” he said to his visitor, and sat down behind his desk. “Have a seat.”

  “What’s new, Vince?” Zachary St. John asked in the disrespectful way that always annoyed Levy. He glanced disapprovingly at his head of M&A, which, unfortunately, had no effect. St. John wasn’t necessarily an ace when it came to his job, but he definitely knew everyone on Wall Street. Since joining LMI roughly nine years ago from Franklin Myers and Drexel Burnham Lambert, he had connected with almost every member of upper management at LMI. Levy didn’t like St. John because he was a glib, money-hungry opportunist, but his contacts were extremely valuable.

  “As you know,” Levy began, “I have long wished for LMI to gain prominence in the area of M&A. Yesterday, I was told by well-informed sources that Alex Sontheim left Morgan Stanley after a disagreement.”

  He paused briefly to see St. John’s reaction, but the latter appeared not to be impressed by his boss’s sensational insider knowledge.

  “I already knew that.” St. John smiled smugly. “It was obvious she wouldn’t stay at Morgan Stanley much longer, because she was tired of playing second fiddle to van Sand, that moron. And after he foiled her TexOil deal three days ago, she put the gun to Neil Sadler’s head.”

  “Oh really?” Levy wasn’t surprised that St. John was already familiar with some of the details.

  “What else do you know about her?”

  St. John leaned back and stretched his legs. He had just returned from a two-day business trip to the Bahamas. He had a deep tan. His short, reddish-blond hair was slicked back meticulously and had its usual perfect shine.

  “Alex Sontheim,” he said, “is from Germany. She is thirty-five and single, studied at the European Business School, and received a full scholarship to Stanford. She graduated at the top of her MBA class. She rose to the top in the Goldman Sachs associate program, and she could have easily stayed there. Any corporation would have loved to hire her, but she accepted the lowest-paying job at a brokerage called Global Equity Trust, working as a fund manager. After two years, she switched to Franklin Myers and did futures, derivatives, and a little M&A there. Then she went to Morgan Stanley, where she’s been working exclusively in M&A for the past eight years. By now, everyone knows how good she is at her job.”

  Levy nodded with a thin smile. Alex Sontheim was the star in the field, and hardly any deal eluded her. Recruiting her to his firm would be a dream come true.

  “She’s ambitious and ruthless,” St. John continued, “and that’s why things came to a head between her and van Sand. Of course, everyone in the city knows that she makes the major deals, but Douglas is the big boss’s son-in-law. She’ll never get his job, and Alex isn’t the type of woman who is content with second place.”

  Levy observed St. John with an expressionless face, but his brain was in high gear. He could already envision the headline of the Wall Street Journal: “Alex Sontheim Joins LMI…”

  “Does she have any skeletons in her closet?” he asked.

  “Not that I know of.” St. John shook his head. “No
alcohol-abusing ex-husband, no children out of wedlock, no previous convictions, no rumors. This woman lives for her work. She is clever and tough as nails.”

  “Why do you know so much about her, Zack?” Levy asked.

  “Apart from the fact that I know a lot about most people in our industry,” St. John said with a grin, his tone even more smug than before, “Alex and I were colleagues at Franklin Myers. I know her pretty well.” He enjoyed playing Mr. Know-It-All. Levy squinted and observed him closely.

  “Let’s assume that we can convince her to join us,” he said. “Then you would be out of a job, Zack.”

  “Well, I don’t think so.” St. John skimmed through his worn-out notebook with a languid smile before looking up. “I’m not a star like Alex Sontheim, but I would be the perfect managing director. What do you think, Vince?”

  “Let’s tackle this first,” Levy responded coolly.

  The position of managing director had been vacant at LMI since Gilbert Shanahan was literally crushed by a truck on his way to an SEC hearing—a year and a half ago. Poor Gilbert had been declared dead on the spot.

  “I am very loyal.” St. John leaned forward, and a brooding expression appeared in his eyes. “You know what I mean.”

  Levy’s face was relaxed, but St. John’s emphasis of the word loyal triggered an uneasy feeling in his stomach. St. John had never uttered a word about the details of this unpleasant matter with Shanahan; as a result, Levy had almost forgotten that this man knew almost everything about what had happened.

  “We’ll talk about that when the time is right,” he said. He stood up to signal to St. John that the conversation was over. “I would like you to contact Alex Sontheim right away. Can you manage that?”

  St. John raised his eyebrows mockingly and grinned.

  “Are you joking, Vince?” He also stood up. “By right away, you mean today? Or is tomorrow early enough for you?”

  Levy gave him a cold smile.

  “Ideally, in an hour,” he parried, and reached for the telephone receiver. St. John got the hint. He bowed slightly and left Levy’s office. Levy waited until St. John closed the door behind him. Then he walked across his office to his fully equipped bar. He poured himself a scotch—straight, without ice—and stepped toward the window again. Recruiting Alex Sontheim was the perfect move. He would spare neither trouble nor expense to do so.

  PART ONE

  July 1998—New York City

  Alex Sontheim didn’t regret her move from Morgan Stanley to Levy Manhattan for one single moment, and she was sure Vincent Levy wasn’t sorry he had won her over with his generous offer last February. With a fixed salary of two million dollars plus bonuses and commissions, Alex was among the best-paid investment bankers in the city, and she had already silenced any skeptics on LMI’s board of directors with three spectacular deals.

  Along with their revenues, LMI’s reputation in the highly competitive M&A market went soaring. Levy was euphoric; it couldn’t get better than this. General Engines and United Brake Systems were both blue-chip companies, and, through Alex, LMI successfully represented them. The Wall Street Journal called LMI a “serious competitor” to Merrill Lynch, Goldman Sachs, and Morgan Stanley in the field of M&A, and Alex was solely responsible for it. She had a keen sense for the markets, a sharp eye, ruthlessness, and experience—plus the necessary connections to remain at the top of the food chain in this business. From her office window on the fourteenth floor of the LMI Building, she had a fantastic view of the Verrazano-Narrows Bridge and the harbor. It was this breathtaking panorama that made her realize how incredibly far she had come in her career over the past years. She smiled in satisfaction. At the age of thirty-five, she felt well on her way to the top.

  Now she was playing in the major leagues—and she had made it completely on her own. The telephone startled her out of her reverie. It was Zack, her former colleague at Franklin Myers and currently the managing director of LMI, to whom she more or less owed this job. He asked her to join a board meeting, scheduled at short notice on the thirtieth floor. Alex shut down her computer, grabbed her briefcase, and quickly rushed across the trading floor. It was already late on a Friday afternoon, and the normally hectic floor was deserted except for a cleaning crew. The traders had vanished into their weekends the moment trading closed on the NYSE. Alex swiped her badge through the reader next to the elevator door. Security at LMI was as tight as at the Pentagon; every swipe of the card was recorded by a central computer.

  Alex assessed her appearance in the mirror, while the silent elevator transported her sixteen floors higher. It was far more difficult for a woman in her position to be accepted by colleagues and business partners than for a man. She had to be tough and unyielding, but without seeming masculine. She had perfectly mastered this balancing act after twelve years on Wall Street. She gave her mirror image a friendly smile. People in this city had long stopped making the mistake of underestimating her. Someone had once accused her of being cold and ruthless, but Alex saw this as a compliment—essential survival skills in this tough man’s world.

  The elevator stopped on the thirtieth floor with a subtle ring, and Alex took a deep breath. She walked along a mahogany-paneled hallway lined with exquisitely lit expressionist paintings—surely originals and worth a fortune. The thick Aubusson runner rugs over the reddish marble swallowed the sound of her steps. Every detail of the furnishings exuded solidity, power, and success. Anyone who sat on the thirtieth floor had made it. Alex smiled. One of these days, in the not too distant future, her name would also be on one of these doors.

  She knocked on the door of the large conference room—it was as wide as the whole building—and entered. The windows stretched from the ceiling to the floor, and the view to the east across the river to Brooklyn was spectacular. Although she had been here a few times before, she was impressed anew by the vast space. The thought flashed through her mind that this room was designed not just to impress but to intimidate.

  The entire board of directors sat around the giant, polished round table, which looked like it was carved from one piece—like the legendary Round Table of Camelot: CEO Vincent Levy, Vice President Isaac Rubinstein, CFO Michael Friedman, Head Analyst Hugh Weinberg, Legal Department Head Francis Dayton-Smith, Chairman of the Board Ron Schellenbaum, Director of Emerging Markets and International Business John Kwai, and Managing Director Zachary St. John.

  “Hello,” Alex said and smiled. “I hope I’m not late.”

  Vincent Levy jumped up and walked over to her with a smile. “Oh no, Alex,” he said, extending his hand to her, “thank you for coming. I decided at the last minute to invite you to our meeting. After all, you made a major contribution to our recent successes.”

  Alex smiled as she look around at the group’s benevolent but probing expressions. She couldn’t figure out Levy. There was a core as hard as iron hiding behind his smooth demeanor. People didn’t make it to the very top on Wall Street by being modest or friendly. She sat down between John Kwai and Zack. Her heart was beating in excitement when she realized that she was sitting as an equal among the most powerful men of the firm. Even though her job was exciting and satisfying, her next goal was to permanently establish herself in this circle. Levy spoke about the positive developments in M&A, but also about currency and equities trading and the underwriting of promising dot-com companies. Then Hugh Weinberg reported on his forecasts.

  Levy had recruited Weinberg from Prudential Securities. Weinberg’s opinion was highly respected and second to none on Wall Street—he was known and feared for his accurate analyses and proven forecasts. Alex was filled with pride that he had such high regard for her work. His market analysis was followed by Michael Friedman’s dry report on the past quarter’s revenues and profits. When at seven thirty Levy closed the meeting by thanking all of the attendees, Alex wondered why she had been invited in the first place. She was standing up, ready to leave, when Levy signaled for her to stay.

  “We are very plea
sed with your work here, Alex,” he began in a friendly tone once they were alone in the conference room. “Hugh is impressed by your profound market knowledge.”

  “Thank you.” Alex smiled in acknowledgment. After all, they were paying her two million a year for that knowledge. But what did he really want?

  “The efficiency and success of your work speaks for itself,” Levy continued, “and as you know, we are willing to reward success.”

  His smile grew wider.

  “We are considering a bonus of a hundred and fifty thousand dollars on top of your regular bonus payment.”

  Alex wondered if she’d heard him correctly.

  “That’s a significant amount of money.” With some effort she concealed her surprise and maintained her composure.

  “Yes, indeed.” Levy smiled in a kind and paternal way. “But you work eighty hours a week and have delivered remarkable results in less than five months. Others need this much time just to get accustomed to a new company. Furthermore, LMI owes its excellent reputation in the area of M&A to you. Why shouldn’t the firm reward you for that?”

  “Well,” Alex responded without batting an eye, “that’s incredibly generous.”

  She had the feeling that she needed to be very careful. She had no idea where this intuition came from, but the feeling was there.

  Finally Levy spoke. “I would like to make you an offer—here, between you and me. Nothing in writing. Let’s call it a handshake agreement. LMI could obviously give you the bonus in the customary form of stock options. But we could also transfer the money in cash, which means, well, tax free, to a foreign bank account.”

  He smiled innocently, as if he hadn’t just suggested tax evasion to her.

  “The decision is yours, Alex. Stock options are good. But considering your tax bracket, the advantage of a cash payment is obvious.”