The Numbered Account Read Free Page A

His horrible thumb shot out.
    â€˜Tell,’ Julia said comfortably.
    â€˜Yes, I will. It’s about Aglaia Armitage. Her father’s dead and her mother’s no good—she ran off to the Argentine with a Dago tenor even before poor Armitage died, four years ago.’
    â€˜Is Aglaia in Switzerland?’ Julia had visions of a girls’ school near Lausanne or Ouchy.
    â€˜Oh no. But her grandfather died the other day.’
    â€˜Was he looking after her?’
    â€˜Not much, no—she lived with an aunt in London, her father’s sister. But’—Colin paused, and his thumb jerked out again. ‘He left her quite a lot of money, and she ought to be sure of getting it,’ he said.
    â€˜Well, can’t the will simply be proved, if he left it to her?’ Julia asked, puzzled by Colin’s obvious anxiety.
    â€˜The money isn’t in a will. It’s in Switzerland.’ He stuck again.
    â€˜Darling, do be a little more clear. Why no will?’
    â€˜Oh, there’s a will all right, and she’s his heir. But—did you ever hear of numbered accounts?’
    â€˜No. What are they?’
    â€˜Well people all over the world, if they want to have some of their funds safe and sure, put them in Swiss Banks.’
    â€˜Oh, funk-money. Yes, very sensible. I expect masses of Levantines and Armenians and rich ones from those unreliable South American republics have millions stowed away there. But what are these numbered accounts?’
    â€˜Accounts with a number, but no name. Anonymous, you see.’
    â€˜No I don’t, quite. Unless somebody in the Bank knows which name is attached to what number, how does Mr. Sophocles Euripides or Senhor Vasco da Gama get his money out when he wants it?’
    Colin laughed.
    â€˜I don’t know the exact mechanism, but there’s some sort of secret record, or code, and the owner can touch his cash in need. Only it’s not quite so easy when the person who made the deposit is dead, and that’s the case with Aglaia’s fortune.’
    â€˜What was her grandfather’s name? Armitage? The English do this too, do they?’
    â€˜I wouldn’t know. He wasn’t English, and his name wasn’t Armitage; that was her father.’
    â€˜Then what was the grandfather’s name?’
    Colin hesitated; he gave a curious youthful giggle of embarrassment before he said—‘Thalassides; Orestes Thalassides.’
    â€˜Oh Lord, not the old shipowner? He must have been worth a packet.’
    â€˜Yes he was. And he did make a will all right, with proper legacies—don’t you remember, half a million to Cambridge alone for science fellowships?—and more to various Redbricks. But although the papers called her a great heiress, all that didn’t leave an awful lot for Aglaia except this Swiss money. And—’ again he checked—‘you see he may not have told the Swiss Bank that she is his heiress.’
    â€˜Won’t the will show that?’
    â€˜We hope so, but it isn’t dead certain.’
    â€˜If the will makes her his residuary legatee, or whatever they call it, surely she’s on velvet?—except for death duties.’
    â€˜That’s just the point. The lawyers seem to think that the will may have been left a bit vague for that very reason.’
    â€˜Oh, these smart foreigners! Here are all our own Dukes and peers selling their family portraits to pay those revolting death-duties, and Mr. What’s-it-ides puts his dough in a foreign bank to escape paying.’
    â€˜Don’t be nasty, J.,’ the young man said, mildly and rather sadly.
    â€˜Sorry—no, I won’t.’ She considered. ‘But Aglaia knows this money has been left to her?’
    â€˜Yes.’
    â€˜And told you?’
    â€˜Yes,’ Colin said again, blushing.
    Julia pounced, so to speak, on the blush.
    â€˜Colin, are you engaged to