executor of the estate.” t='0' wra Fifty years has passed since we last saw Klaus at the border. Half a century! And twenty-eight years since that creepy little imposter showed up with Klaus’s ledger, trying to steal from us.” Armande Hoffgeitz pointed to the dictation pad. “Write this down: We are thus pleased to report that our records show no accounts in which the owners or their representatives have made no contact with the bank, directly or indirectly.”
One floor below, Wilhelm laughed. His father-in-law was a clever man.
“ That’s better,” Gunter said, writing it down.
“ Honesty is the best policy!” Armande grinned. “And finish with: Please let us know if we can further assist you in your worthy endeavor. With best personal regards. Armande Hoffgeitz, President.”
Gunter stood. “I’ll have the letter ready for your signature in a few moments.”
“ We must indulge the association.” The banker pushed up the gold-rimmed spectacles that had slipped down his nose. “My poor colleagues have to pacify the damn Jews with a show of a diligent inquiry.”
“ I’m more concerned,” Gunter said, “with the new computer system. My hard-copy records are locked up safely. But how can we keep our clients’ secrets when the information is stored as electronic signals? Wires everywhere, computer terminals on every desk-I’m very uncomfortable!”
“ With the computers or with Wilhelm?”
Gunter didn’t answer.
“ Look, my son-in-law is forcing us to adjust to the information age.” Herr Hoffgeitz smiled. “It’s uncomfortable, old hands that we are, but-”
“ I meant no disrespect, but he’s not one of us.”
“ Look, you remember that I also had my doubts. A young man without kin, not of Swiss ancestry, wants to marry my Paula? I was very concerned. But our investigation showed nothing but the tragic circumstances of his parents’ death.”
Gunter nodded.
“ And he did graduate from Lyceum Alpin St. Nicholas with honors. ” Armande Hoffgeitz tapped his ring, which bore a serpent intertwined with the letters LASN. For two centuries, every man in the bank’s employ had worn the same alumni ring, a prerequisite to hiring.
“ Yes, but-”
“ His professional record was impeccable, and Paula loved him. Still does. How could I deny her this happiness?” The banker didn’t wait for an answer. “And he has proven himself. A hard worker, excellent with clients. And Klaus Junior is growing so nicely.”
“ I don’t-”
“ Wilhelm has been with us for how long?”
“ Thirteen years.”
Herr Hoffgeitz nodded. “Let me speak with him a bout the computer situation. I’m sure the two of you can find common ground.”
The assistant, himself not young anymore, bowed stiffly. As he walked to the door, his bespectacled face grew, filling Wilhelm’s computer screen. The edge of the door appeared for a second at the bottom, just below the camera, and disappeared as Gunter exited.
At the far end of the office, Armande Hoffgeitz got up and maneuvered his heavy girth between the chair and the desk. He turned to the window and looked out. Despite the distance from the miniature video camera above the door, the pleasure on the banker’s pudgy face came through. He loved his Zurich, where the Hoffgeitz Bank had operated for 216 years at the same stout building on the corner of Bahnhofstrasse and Augustinergasse, managed by a long line of Hoffgeitz males. The neighboring buildings housed other private banks with understated facades and long family traditions. A hundred feet under the neatly swept Bahnhofstrasse, thick walls of steel and concrete protected massive vaults that contained the formidable fortunes entrusted to Armande Hoffgeitz and his colleagues. They, and the institutions they ran, had made Zurich a financial mecca.
Like the building in which his bank resided, Armande Hoffgeitz had weathered the years gracefully. At eighty- four, he was one of Zurich’s most respected private bankers, personifying the mystic aura surrounding the bank and its anonymous international clients. The bank’s investments in select private and public corporations were rumored to add up to several billion dollars. Diversifying among major industrial, agriculture, retail, construction, energy, and shipping companies, the Hoffgeitz Bank had refrained from accumulating a controlling position in any single public company, making it impossible to trace its investments.
A minute after his head had disappeared from the computer screen, Gunter Schnell knocked on Wilhelm’s door. With a single keystroke, he made Armande Hoffgeitz vanish from the screen, replaced by columns of numbers, and pressed the button under his desktop, unlocking the door.
“ Herr Horch?” Gunter leaned in through the half-opened door. “Herr Hoffgeitz wishes to see you.”
*
“ Hey! Open the door!” Bathsheba knocked and tried the handle again. “I’m going to wet my pants!”
“I’m almost done.” Gideon dried his face on a towel and turned the key. “All yours.”
“Don’t leave.” Bathsheba held the door as he exited the bathroom. “I like sharing.”
“I don’t.” He realized she was about to slip out of her nightgown and turned away. “What happened yesterday should never happen again.”
“Never? Then you’ll be in a lot of pain. I heard men have to ejaculate at least once a day to maintain-”
“We’re colleagues, not lovers!” He reached back without looking and shut the bathroom door.
“ Fine,” she said behind the closed door, “go ahead, play hard-to-get, I’ll play along if it makes you feel better.”
“ I’m not playing. I mean it.”
“ How about a cold shower then?”
“ If you continue, one of us will have to resign from the service.”
“The service?” Bathsheba started the water in the shower. “What service? We’re working for the Elie Weirdo Freak Show.”
Gideon struggled to control his anger. “The Special Operations Department reports directly to the prime minister’s office, and Elie Weiss is a great mentor-”
“Weirdo!”
“He might be different, but he’s very powerful. We’re not the only team working for him undercover-”
“ Weirdo!”
“ He hired us when Mossad wouldn’t. Where is your gratitude?”
“Weirdo!”
*
“ Lemmy!” Armande Hoffgeitz waved him in. “Did you made it back from Paris okay?”
“Why not?”
“Driving that little toy of yours?” The banker shook his head. “I’ll never understand why you’d rather drive an old Volkswagen all the way there instead of taking a short flight in first class.”
“It’s a Porsche, not a Volkswagen.”
Armande waved in dismissal. “A Beetle is a Beetle even with a low roof and a fancy name.”
“ And a much higher speed.”
“It should, considering all the time and money you have put into it. How was Paris?”
“ Very productive. I took a Saudi client to see Madame Butterfly at the Paris Opera. Maria Teresa Uribe played Cho-Cho-Sun. Incredible performance!”
“ Not my cup of tea. And how are Paula and Klaus Junior?”
“ Your grandson insists on a Saturday-morning sailing. I told him it’s going to be chilly, but he wouldn’t give it up.”
“ He’s a true Hoffgeitz, just the way his uncle was.” Armande glanced at the photo of his late son in a black frame on the desk. Klaus V.K. Hoffgeitz had died in a freak skiing accident in 1973. “Tell Junior that I’ll join him at the bow. We’ll face the wind together!”
“ Bring your coat and hat.”
“ I will.” He patted a pile of computer printouts filled with numbers. “Look, I’m too old to learn new tricks, and so is Gunter. We’ve always kept records with pen and paper-”
