Cashback

by Duncan James

  ***

  One of the bank's senior accounts clerks knocked gently on M. Gilbert's door, and went in without being summoned.

  "Sorry to bother you, monsieur," said the clerk, "but I thought you should be informed of something rather odd."

  "Odd?" enquired the manager.

  "Yes, very odd as a matter of fact," responded the man, "although of course I am sure that everything will be satisfactorily explained very soon."

  "What exactly is it that you find so 'odd', may I ask?"

  "It's Mr. Hood's account," said the clerk. "The one that was opened earlier this week."

  "What about it? Nothing wrong, I hope." Monsieur Gilbert looked worried.

  "Probably nothing at all," replied the man, "but I thought you should know of something rather odd."

  "Odd?" enquired the manager again. "What's odd, exactly? His deposit was paid in as he said it would be. I checked it myself."

  "Oh, yes, M. Gilbert," said the clerk, reassuringly. "Yes, the money's there, all right. But that's what so odd."

  "Don't keep saying that, man. Tell me what's odd for heaven's sake." Monsieur Gilbert was getting cross as well as worried.

  "Well, the odd thing is," said the clerk, getting to the point at last, "the odd thing is that although the money is in the account as promised, we can't - at the moment, that is - quite tell where it - er - came from."

  "But you must know where it came from," exploded the normally placid M. Gilbert. "Go back and check again, at once."

  "Very well, monsieur, of course I shall. It's probably some clerical error and nothing else," spluttered the clerk, wishing he'd never mentioned it. "Of course I'll check again - straight away. But the fact is that we have already checked, and checked again several times, but for some reason, we have been unable to trace the source of the money. That is what we found so odd, Monsieur Gilbert, and although, of course, we shall check again as you said, we had wondered if perhaps, well, since you know M. Hood, if perhaps? well ?"

  "What is it, man?" demanded the manager. "Perhaps what?"

  "Well, Monsieur Gilbert, we wondered if perhaps it would save considerable time and further effort if, perhaps, as you know Monsieur Hood, if perhaps you could ask him the source of the money which he arranged to be deposited?"

  Monsieur Gilbert looked as if he was about to explode.

  "What!" he shouted at the poor accounts clerk, who had dared to make such an outrageous suggestion, having singularly failed in his duty. "What!" he bellowed again. "Are you seriously suggesting that I should ring a valued new customer to thank him for depositing a million pounds with us, and ask him if he would mind telling us where it came from? What sort of impression would that make, do you think? What sort of bank would he conclude he had joined who could ask him such a thing? What sort of idea would he gain about our efficiency do you think, if I told him we could not trace the source of his deposit?"

  "I'm sorry, monsieur," said the clerk. "It was obviously a foolish idea. I will go and search the records again," he said backing to the door.

  "Wait a minute," demanded the Manager. "You are one of our most senior accounts clerks, which is why I asked you to look after the business brought to us by Monsieur Hood. So far as I can see, he has done precisely what he said he would do. He deposited a million pounds with us, he then moved three quarters of that, as he said he would, and later still, re-deposited ?250,000 as he also told me. That leaves us with half a million pounds on deposit, simply to open his account with us. Do you agree that this is what has happened?"

  "Of course I agree," confirmed the clerk, "but this is also very odd indeed, since we have been unable to trace where the money went when it was removed from his account, and neither have we been able to find where it came from when he moved some of it back into his account. You must agree, Monsieur, that it is all very odd. I have never known anything like it in all my experience."

  "The transactions were conducted using the Internet, were they not?" asked M. Gilbert.

  "Absolutely correct," confirmed the accounts clerk. "Through the clearing system."

  "And no clue from studying the email records or any of the other monitoring systems which we have in place?"

  "Nothing."

  Monsieur Gilbert sat, puzzled, lost in thought. The wretched accounts clerk, who had not been invited sit in front of the great man's desk, stood miserably before him, waiting for a further reaction.

  "Opening a new account with half a million pounds is in itself, most unusual," M. Gilbert eventually said.

  The clerk nodded.

  "But there will soon be many more deposits made into this account - large deposits, so I believe," added the manager. "M. Hood's business is already valuable to us, and will become more so."

  He leant forward. "Eventually," he continued, "we shall be asked to manage a portfolio large enough to run an equity fund capable of paying regular sums to up to four thousand individuals. That is big business, and I dare not put it at risk by admitting to M. Hood that we, one of the biggest and most respected of all Switzerland's private banks, cannot discover the source of his initial deposit."

  "I quite understand," said the clerk.

  Monsieur Gilbert sat back again, lost in thought.

  "I am not so concerned," he said, almost to himself, "about the origin of M. Hood's deposit, although I would suggest that it originated somewhere in Africa, and was routed through a clearing bank in the UK, since it was paid to us in pounds sterling. That must be your first line of enquiry," he said to his accounts clerk.

  "Very good, monsieur," replied the man.

  "But it is not so much the origin of M. Hood's deposit which bothers me. It is his apparent ability to move money out of our bank without our knowledge that is of concern. Grave concern. That is supposed to be impossible, given our security systems."

  "Quite so," agreed the accounts clerk.

  "Keep on checking," demanded M. Gilbert, waving the man away, "and keep me informed of your progress."

  As the man scuttled away, greatly relieved but now increasingly concerned, he heard Monsieur Gilbert, the Manager, say to himself, "This is all very odd indeed."