also made statues of Voltaire and George Washington. Struck as he’d first walked in the room with the feeling that Jean-Paul might see himself as a modern-day Napoleon.
But over those first few meetings, Georges started to see the other side of Jean-Paul: a warm, caring family man with noble – if venturesome and foolish – hopes and aims. An image that was keenly massaged by Jon Larsen in heart-to-hearts straight after those meetings: ‘No doubt you’ve read and heard all the dark stories – rumoured or otherwise. But don’t worry – I’ll be first to make sure that Jean-Paul keeps to his promise that all that side of the Lacaille family is now history. Jean-Paul’s one of the fairest men I’ve worked for, and I’ve worked for a few in my time. Otherwise I just wouldn’t have stayed around this long.’
A hard-bitten corporate lawyer for thirteen years before joining Jean-Paul, Jon Larsen perhaps saw in Georges a kindred spirit: a fellow exile from the business world. But whether through that or not, he did find himself bonding closer with Larsen than anyone else in the extended Lacaille family. Now late-fifties with a strong resemblance to Mr Magoo – except that what little ring of hair Larsen had left was kept brush-cut short – all too often Georges found they shared the same thoughts and views. Over the past three years, they’d swapped many truths and confidences. Except one.
But it wasn’t Larsen’s pep talks that had finally convinced him to join the fold; nor Jean-Paul’s firm compliance with his request that all the money be cleaned before he started work with it; nor their offer of almost double his existing $280,000 p.a. earnings with Banque du Quebec, with additional share bonuses in the Lacaille’s many businesses.
What finally decided him was that Jean-Paul’s quest touched his heart. After their fifth or sixth meeting, Georges didn’t remember now, Jean-Paul sat him down with a large brandy and told him the family background that had finally forged in his heart and soul this new direction: of how Pascal’s death had destroyed their father; of him and Pascal playing together as children and Pascal in his teenage years talking about becoming a musician or writer; of how Jean-Paul himself had strongly related to that, because secretly he’d dreamed of becoming an architect or designer before the family business sucked him in. Jean-Paul had then pointed to the picture of his son Raphael on the side table. ‘He’s only twelve now, and perhaps his dreams aren’t fully formed yet and he’s still talking about being a train driver or an astronaut – but I don’t want him to end up the same as Pascal.’
In that moment, Georges hadn’t seen a crime don, but the frightened teenager who’d buried his dreams, then later his younger brother, both in the name of familial duty – yet now was frantically grappling with whether he’d be able to turn back the tide before it claimed another generation.
Georges phoned back within the week to tell Jean-Paul that he’d join him. And from that point the quest rapidly became a crusade: not just for Jean-Paul to prove to himself that it could be done, nor the challenge to Georges as a money-man to be able to match the sort of high returns previously notched up from crime – but because their aims had started to attract keen outside interest. Four other leading crime families – most notable among them Jean-Paul’s close friends and past crime allies, the Giacomelli family of Chicago – were eager to see Jean-Paul fair well: after all, if he succeeded it could provide a useful blueprint for them to follow. Others were more sceptical, saying that it had never been done before simply because it couldn’t be done. Lacaille was trying for the impossible.
Suddenly their quest had become a cause celébrè. Bets were being taken each side on whether they won or lost. And it hit Georges then just how monumental the stakes were:
But over those first few meetings, Georges started to see the other side of Jean-Paul: a warm, caring family man with noble – if venturesome and foolish – hopes and aims. An image that was keenly massaged by Jon Larsen in heart-to-hearts straight after those meetings: ‘No doubt you’ve read and heard all the dark stories – rumoured or otherwise. But don’t worry – I’ll be first to make sure that Jean-Paul keeps to his promise that all that side of the Lacaille family is now history. Jean-Paul’s one of the fairest men I’ve worked for, and I’ve worked for a few in my time. Otherwise I just wouldn’t have stayed around this long.’
A hard-bitten corporate lawyer for thirteen years before joining Jean-Paul, Jon Larsen perhaps saw in Georges a kindred spirit: a fellow exile from the business world. But whether through that or not, he did find himself bonding closer with Larsen than anyone else in the extended Lacaille family. Now late-fifties with a strong resemblance to Mr Magoo – except that what little ring of hair Larsen had left was kept brush-cut short – all too often Georges found they shared the same thoughts and views. Over the past three years, they’d swapped many truths and confidences. Except one.
But it wasn’t Larsen’s pep talks that had finally convinced him to join the fold; nor Jean-Paul’s firm compliance with his request that all the money be cleaned before he started work with it; nor their offer of almost double his existing $280,000 p.a. earnings with Banque du Quebec, with additional share bonuses in the Lacaille’s many businesses.
What finally decided him was that Jean-Paul’s quest touched his heart. After their fifth or sixth meeting, Georges didn’t remember now, Jean-Paul sat him down with a large brandy and told him the family background that had finally forged in his heart and soul this new direction: of how Pascal’s death had destroyed their father; of him and Pascal playing together as children and Pascal in his teenage years talking about becoming a musician or writer; of how Jean-Paul himself had strongly related to that, because secretly he’d dreamed of becoming an architect or designer before the family business sucked him in. Jean-Paul had then pointed to the picture of his son Raphael on the side table. ‘He’s only twelve now, and perhaps his dreams aren’t fully formed yet and he’s still talking about being a train driver or an astronaut – but I don’t want him to end up the same as Pascal.’
In that moment, Georges hadn’t seen a crime don, but the frightened teenager who’d buried his dreams, then later his younger brother, both in the name of familial duty – yet now was frantically grappling with whether he’d be able to turn back the tide before it claimed another generation.
Georges phoned back within the week to tell Jean-Paul that he’d join him. And from that point the quest rapidly became a crusade: not just for Jean-Paul to prove to himself that it could be done, nor the challenge to Georges as a money-man to be able to match the sort of high returns previously notched up from crime – but because their aims had started to attract keen outside interest. Four other leading crime families – most notable among them Jean-Paul’s close friends and past crime allies, the Giacomelli family of Chicago – were eager to see Jean-Paul fair well: after all, if he succeeded it could provide a useful blueprint for them to follow. Others were more sceptical, saying that it had never been done before simply because it couldn’t be done. Lacaille was trying for the impossible.
Suddenly their quest had become a cause celébrè. Bets were being taken each side on whether they won or lost. And it hit Georges then just how monumental the stakes were:
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