THE CLOSURE

We were approaching downtown New Jersey. It was obvious that I wasn’t sympathetic towards Daniel’s career, so instead of being quiet, he decided to ask me again about things related to Linda.

“So, how much did you really lose? Did you put the numbers together?”

“As I said, I lost almost all my possessions. I rented out my flat with all furniture for year, and I sold three cars I owned, and ended up with considerable credit card debt. I was such idiot.”

“At least you will get your apartment back after a year.”

“Hmmm, if Selma doesn’t take it during divorce.”

“Oh boy, you are really stuffed. Why did you do all these things? I mean selling cars, renting out the apartment… I am all for taking risks, but you went too far.”

“Because plan was that we were going to live in Paris for probably one year, but possibly much longer, I reckoned that it would be wise to rent apartment and sell car. Otherwise it would be just losing value.” Who was I kidding? It was me who I was trying to convince, not Daniel. “Our daughter, Tania, did not think of coming back to Washington and Nenad still had to stay for a while in the Army, so it all seemed to be reasonably good idea. The problem was that we really rushed through everything. We authorized real estate agent and she managed to find tenants that paid a year in advance which was good, but we didn’t really need money that badly. We had debt on credit cards, but we thought Linda will make us all rich as soon as we cross to Europe. We still did not know exact figure, but she was hinting significant amounts. At least for us. Let’s say over a hundred thousand dollars bonus plus decent jobs for both of us in France and paid accommodation. I know that it may not sound as lots for you, but for taxi driver and home-based tailor and caterer it was certainly lots.”

“I understand.”

“Still she kept telling me to invest that lump sum.”

“In eGrave?”

“Yes.”

“Oh, no. Dot-coms were already dead at the time. How did she make you invest?”

“I don’t know. She was really convincing.”

“Are the shares worth anything now? I mean it still can’t be that bad after a month.”

“They did not make the IPO,” I said sadly.

“Oh, I see. Tough luck, tiger. You know every investment carries some risks, but high-risk investment does not carry them, it becomes a gamble, and like any gamble, only the house wins.”

“But I lost absolutely everything. Twice.”

“I wouldn’t be surprised if it happens to you for the third time.”

“Why?”

“Because you are just victimizing yourself. After everything you’ve told me, you haven’t learned a thing. Experience is a nice name for our failures, but only after we learn something from the experience. But you are always looking at it simply as a failure.”

“How is war in Yugoslavia related to my experience with Linda?” I couldn’t relate the stories.

“How is this related? They follow the same pattern. Don’t you see it? That’s why you paid the price twice, twice. It is all the same. You just didn’t get it the first time. Listen carefully now.”

I frowned, but I was listening. Daniel continued as we were slowly approaching our destination in slow, morning peak, traffic. “I understand that it’s hard to comprehend how high politics is similar to what Linda did to you.”

“Sorry, but I still can’t understand that.”

“Linda needed your help to achieve her goals and in doing so she would help you achieve yours.”

“Yes, how am I supposed to link that to your scams?”

“Well, while Milosevic was working in the States for his bank, he was approached by people asking him to help lead Serbia through the inevitable breakout of Yugoslavia. He would help America achieve their interests, while the Americans would help him protect Serbian people in Croatia and Bosnia.”

“I can sort of see similarity.”

“The same way you discovered that there was in fact money involved, people that were fighting in the war did the same, forgetting what their real goal was. They still kept portraying themselves as patriots, but the goal had been changed. It was no longer a matter of national interest, it was purely money.”

“What does that have to do with Linda?”

“Not with Linda, but with you. You helped her for purely altruistic reasons, well with the addition of her being a gorgeous girl, but then it became all about the money and life in Paris.”

“I wasn’t looking for that. It was offered to me.”

“But it pushed you to do more for Linda than you would normally do. The same thing happened with Milosevic and the others, as Americans kept promising more and more to all the sides in the conflict, but in return pushing them deeper and deeper into conflict with each other and effectively destroying them all.”

“Same way I was destroyed. Twice.”

“Exactly! You lost everything in Bosnia and you lost it again here, while trying to make a better life for your family. You had Linda fleeing with your money the same way selected Americans made money from the war when Milosevic could have enjoyed his retirement in Russia if he hadn’t been caught up in the same trap as you, created by the Americans.”

“I am starting to see your point, although it is rather complicated.”

“Of course it is, but I am glad you can see it now.”

I got off the New Jersey Turnpike as we were now in Jersey City. While I was looking for Montgomery Street I began thinking again. It was still very hard for me to take Daniel’s position about Linda.

“You know what, Daniel, you keep confusing me. At one point you sounded like Linda might not have been con artist, especially after everything you told me about Rupert Murdoch and E-Systems Club. But now you are talking like you are absolutely positive that this was all work of con artist.”

“She would have to be the best con artist I’ve ever met.” Daniel smiled. “Don’t forget that there is not much difference between a con artist and a genuine PR person. The only difference is in the legality and the amount of people they can scam at once.”

“Is she con artist or she is not?” I wanted a straight answer, but Daniel didn’t look like somebody who would give it to me.

“The only tip I can give you is to question everything. I can’t tell you what to think, but knowing what I know, I would say that some of the things she said and claimed now make sense.”

“Which ones?”

“I can’t tell you. Just wait and you may see the signs.”

“Which signs?”

“I don’t know, but you will know.”

“Oh spare me of bullshit.”

“I am serious. Really. Something is telling me you won’t have to wait too long.”

“Whatever.” I was sick of Daniel’s mind games.

“There is my hotel.” Daniel sounded pleased by the fact that he was able to change subjects.

I could see the low rise Hyatt Regency building.

“What will you do now?” Daniel asked me.

“I’ll turn back to Washington. I don’t think I will have any chance of catching customer here that will need drive back.”

“Aren’t you going to have a break?”

“No, I don’t need break. I may just stop at 7-Eleven to grab something to eat and drink and I will be on my way back.”

“Why don’t you have a break? Have a coffee somewhere in Jersey. Relax for a couple of hours. This has been a stressful trip and maybe a somewhat disturbing conversation. Find a nice café with a view. It looks like it will be a beautiful day. Have a coffee and relax. Who knows, you may find somebody going to D.C. easier than you think.”

“That’s very thoughtful of you, but I don’t think I will be doing that.”

“OK, if you didn’t trust me about the other things I told you, at least try this one. Just do what I just told you. It will cost you three dollars and you will see, it could be worth much more.”

I pulled into the hotel entry and parked the car. A bellboy opened the door and I pulled the trunk release handle.

“We are here. Your hotel, sir.” I was getting out of the car to help him with his bags. My back was sore. Daniel slowly began to get out of the car and followed me to the trunk.

“Thank you very much, Zoran, and good luck. It was a pleasure to be driven by you, despite our little incident.”

I looked at the old man while I was taking his suitcase from the trunk. The bellboy took the suitcases while Daniel gave me fifty dollars. “Thank you for bringing me safely and in time. I apologize if I have offended you in any way with some of my stories and remarks.”

I wanted to show that despite losing everything I had some pride left. I refused the money. “That’s OK, Daniel. You already paid a fair price. Good luck to you too and enjoy your retirement.

“Oh, I insist. This is for that coffee and the parking. Please take a break. It will help you. All the best.”

I reluctantly took the money, closed the trunk and sat in the car. As I was fastening my seat belt, I noticed a card on the backseat. It was just a white card with a number written on it. I knew the number all too well. It was the phone number of my D.C. Flyer Radio Taxi Company, but below it was my cab number. Not really a groundbreaking discovery. He must have written it down to have it in case I did something stupid. I started the engine and moved slowly without looking back at Daniel. I finally seemed to be cured from my rearview mirror obsession. Daniel’s story made me realize how small I was in the whole scheme of things and how looking at the mirror would help me anyway.

“Que sera, sera.”

***

I was drinking a cappuccino with a delicious BBQ pork sandwich in Au Bon Pain Café in the Colgate Center, on the bank of Hudson River. I really needed the breakfast, while I was trying to make sense of everything. First, the old man was laughing at me. Then he gave me some hints that Linda’s story may be true after all. I had more doubts about the official police story after the trip than I had before. Still, Daniel didn’t want to confirm anything. How could he know anyway, unless he was a part of the game too? The very thought of that sent chills down my spine. Again, I couldn’t do anything to draw any solid conclusion. Daniel advised me to wait for a sign. That could be really good advice after all. So, what should I do? The card I picked up in the car came to mind. I took it out of my pocket, but this time I noticed that it wasn’t just a piece of paper with some handwriting. It was a business card. The card of Dr Amanda Jain, my therapist!

***

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