The First Billion/Numbered Account
Overview
A job he shouldn't have taken... A woman he shouldn't have loved... A secret he shouldn't expose...if he wants to live.
Nick Neumann had it all: a Harvard degree, a beautiful fiancée, a star-making Wall Street career. But behind the dazzling veneer of this golden boy is a man haunted by the brutal killing of his father seventeen years before.
Now chilling new evidence has implicated his father's employer, the United Swiss Bank, in the crime. Nick doesn't know how. Or why. But he has a plan to find out: move to Zurich. Work for the same bank. Follow in his father's footsteps. Look for the same secrets... and uncover something so shocking, so unexpected, justice may not be enough.
For as a circle of treachery tightens around him, as a woman with secrets of her own enters his life, Nick makes another chilling discovery. Not just about his father but about himself. And how far he's willing to go to find out what happened seventeen years before -- when a man died and a conspiracy was born.
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Author Information
Bio of Christopher Reich
Christopher Reich was born in Tokyo in 1961. A graduate of Georgetown University and the University of Texas at Austin, he worked in Switzerland before returning to the United States to pursue a career as a novelist. The bestselling author of four other acclaimed novels, Numbered Account, The Runner, The First Billion, and The Devil's Banker, he lives in California with his wife and children.
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Additional Info
Imprint
Delacorte Press
Filesize
2.40 MB
Number of Pages
608
eBook ISBN
9780440333777
Excerpt from: The First Billion/Numbered Account by Christopher Reich
You are millionaire?.. she asked.
Me? Grafton Byrnes pointed a finger at his chest. No. I'm afraid not.
Yes, she insisted, adding a coy smile. You are millionaire. I can tell. You have nice suit. Beautiful tie. You are confident. It is clear. You are millionaire.
Byrnes unglued his eyes from the leggy blond who'd taken a seat at the bar next to him and looked around the room. The place was called Metelitsa, and it was a restaurant, nightclub, and casino rolled into one, located on the Novy Arbat in the center of Moscow. Red curtains blocked out the summer evening's glare. White tablecloths, smoked mirrors, and croupiers in black ties lent the room a touch of class. But one sniff told Byrnes different: the smoke, the perfume, the heady mix of expensive liquor and easy morals. He could recognize a cathouse by scent alone.
I'm successful, he said, curtly... Nothing special.
You are very successful, I think. Yes, a millionaire. She pronounced the word, mee-lone-air, and her Slavic accent and grave delivery lent the word a patina of its foregone luster. You would like to buy me drink?
Sure, he said, before he could ask himself what he was getting himself into. What'll you have?











