WATER WORKS: 7) MADELEINE ZACHARSKI

Sunday Funnies: A Novel of Intrigue, Lunacy & H2O

10.

Freshly showered and dressed in clean clothes, I nail a cab to the address in Fontvieille given me by Armand Seiff.

A wall directory shows this listing: Dulci Acqua A.G.—206 .

Suite 206 is a locked door with an intercom—hardly a necessity in ultra-secure Monaco.

I press the button.

"Oui?"

"Jay Sandak. I have a rendezvous with Armand Sieff."

The door clicks. I push it open and saunter into a high-tech layout presided over by a leggy receptionist wearing a black miniskirt and black stockings—my favorite female fashion.

"I tell Monsieur Sieff you are here," she says.

Five minutes later, he appears. "We're ready."

I follow Sieff into the corridor.

"Did you have a chance to relax?" he asks.

"Armand," I whisper, "I won't relax until your receptionist out there wraps her legs around me."

Sieff pushes a door open, no grin, nothing. It is a spacious office, with tinted windows and incandescent lighting.

A stunning woman is sitting behind a sleek contemporary desk. She rises and steps around it with exceptional poise, greeting me with a firm handshake. "Madeleine Zacharski," she says.

And I thought Armand's genes were mixed.

"My pleasure, Madeleine."

I sincerely mean this. The leggy receptionist is a basset hound compared to Zacharski. In her high heels, she stands four inches over Armand who, even in his Armani suit and Hermes tie, seems comparatively insignificant.

"Let's sit down and chat." Madeleine sits, crossing her legs, settling her eyes into mine. "I understand you're interested in a joint venture, Mr. Sandak. And that you work with Morton Levi."

"That's right. Morton and I want to get into the water business."

"I know a little about Morton," says Zacharski. "But nothing about you. Care to fill me in?"

There's nothing I want to do more than venture-jointly with Madeleine and fill her in.

"I'm in a hurry to get rich," I say.

"I meant your past, not your future."

"Government service," I say. "State Department."

Sieff stirs.

Madeleine doesn’t blink. "What kind of work?'

"Foreign service."

"Really? Where?"

"I did a stint in Marseilles, down the coast. Before that, London. Before that, Warsaw."

Madeleine brightens. "Did you like Poland?"

"Loved it. Especially the people."

"How did you meet Morton Levi?"

"I realized I was never going to get anything other than a decent pension out of the Foreign Service. I don't know if you're aware of this, Madeleine, but Morton was ambassador to Poland. We hit it off. Before he left, he said to come see him if I ever wanted to join the private sector. It didn't take me long to show up at his door."

Madeleine smiles. "What exactly does your Enki Group want to do?"

"We aim to be the number one player in global water," I say.

Madeleine and Armand exchange an amused glance, if tinged with alarm. Perhaps they understood that Morton, with his monetary strength, could be anything he wanted to be. He could buy the whole candy store.

"Of course," I add, "we might be willing to share this distinction with another player, such as yourselves. Now…"—time to turn this sucker around—"…maybe you can tell me something about Dulci Acqua?"

"What would you like to know, Mr. Sandak?" Madeleine uncrosses and recrosses her legs.

I want to know what kind of underwear she’s wearing, but now I know, so I move on. "Call me Jay. Let's start with how long you've been in business?"

"Just over two years, Jay."

"What exactly do you do?"

"Jay,” Says Madeleine sweet as saccharine, “why would you want to do a joint venture with us if you don't know what we do?"

"Simple," I say. "You beat us to Alexandre."

"We're a holding company," says Madeleine, "controlled by a trust in Liechtenstein. We purchase bodies of diseased water and then, at our own cost, construct water treatment plants to clean the water."

"I'm missing something," I say. "Is this a charitable trust—or do you expect to turn a profit?"

"This is a long-term investment," replies Madeleine. "Countries that sell us their polluted lakes or rivers are, in effect, privatizing their water systems. The country pays to use our clean water. In time, when people realize how valuable a commodity clean water is, they will pay a premium. Governments will deal with this by raising taxes—or by charging a water tariff based on usage. In exchange for relatively modest up-front costs, we expect to collect huge dividends in perpetuity."

"I like it," I say.

"We're always on the lookout for new technology that will cut our original investment," says Madeleine. "Hence our interest in Alexandre."

"Based on what you've said, how does it benefit Morton and me to joint venture with you on Alexandre's invention?"

Zacharski defers to the vice president with a wave of her hand. "Armand will explain."

"As its name suggests,” Seiff explains, “Dulci Acqua is a consortium. As such, it is a group of companies. The parent company is—as Madeleine mentioned—a Liechtenstein trust. The consortium includes a company that builds wastewater plants, and invoices the parent company at a profit. Dulci Acqua A.G.—our company in Monaco—exists to invest in cutting edge technology. We then license the use of patented technology to the parent company, and to other water treatment firms, also, for profit."

"How about," I pose, "we talk about The Enki Group buying a piece of the parent company?"

"There's nothing to talk about," says Sieff. "The owners do not wish to sell."

"Not even a small piece?"

"Not even."

"Who owns the consortium?" I asked.

"Your only concern should be who owns Dulci Acqua A.G.," replies Sieff.

"Okay, I'll settle for that." For the moment.

"Madeleine and myself," says Sieff. "This office, Monaco, is purely about new technology."

"Where's headquarters?" I ask. "Vaduz?"

"No," says Armand.

"Zug?" I press.

"No." Armand smiles. "Kyrgyzstan."

"Central Asia?"

Armand nods. A smug nod that says, Chew on that.

"We have asked our American lawyer in Monaco to draft an agreement," says Madeleine. "We wish to conclude our financing arrangements within 48 hours."

"Is it ready for me to read?"

"It will be, tomorrow morning."

"What about getting Alexandre out of Russia?" I ask.

Sieff smiles his thin smile. "He's already out."

"Jeez, you folks work fast."

Sieff’s eyes twinkle. "I hope you're prepared to do the same."

"Where is Alexandre now?"

"We'll tell you," says Sieff, "once we have a signed contract. Is 9 a.m. convenient for you?"

"Fine."

Madeleine rises to her feet, offers her hand.

"I don't suppose you're free for dinner tonight?" I say.

She isn’t.