couldn’t give me any information,
because they didn’t know who I
was. I tried calling them, and I got
the runaround there as well. “Look,
kid,” they said. “We can’t help you.
We’re the Swiss embassy. Do you
know nothing about the Swiss?
Discretion is kind of our thing.
That’s what we do. Tough luck.” I
kept pestering them and finally they
said, “Okay, we’ll take your letter
and, if a man such as you’re
describing exists, we might forward
your letter to him. If he doesn’t,
maybe we won’t. Let’s see what
happens.”
A few months later, a letter