“There are a number of accounts at the Bank of Kroenenfeld in the Cayman Islands.
Automatic transfer can be done by sequential clearing codes,” she said.
“Fräulein Sholes, naturally you have all the required clearing codes?” he asked.
“Aber natürlich,” she replied with such a heavy accent that it was obvious she had
only school-level German.
She started reciting several series of sixteen-digit numbers without once referring
to any papers. Herr Wagner saw that it was going to be a long morning, but for a 4
percent commission on the transactions, he was prepared to skip lunch, and he
was going to have to revise his pigeonhole for Fräulein Sholes.
She did not leave Bank Hauser General until just past noon, slightly later than
planned, and she walked back to the Zimmertal. She put in an appearance at the
front desk before she went up to her room and took off the clothes she had
bought. She kept on the latex breasts but replaced the page-boy wig with Irene
Nesser’s shoulder-length blonde hair. She put on more familiar clothes: boots with
stiletto heels, black trousers, a simple shirt, and a nice black leather jacket from
Malungsboden in Stockholm. She studied herself in the mirror. Not unkempt by
any means, but she was no longer an heiress. Before Irene Nesser left the room, she
sorted through a number of bonds, which she placed inside a thin portfolio.
At 1:05, a few minutes behind schedule, she went into Bank Dorffmann, about
seventy yards away from Bank Hauser General. Irene Nesser had made an
appointment in advance with a Herr Hasselmann. She apologised for being late.
She spoke impeccable German with a Norwegian accent.
“No problem at all, Fräulein,” Herr Hasselmann said. “How can I be of service?”
“I would like to open an account. I have a number of private bonds that I’d like to
convert.”
Irene Nesser placed her portfolio on the desk in front of him.
Herr Hasselmann examined the contents, hastily at first, and then more slowly. He
raised an eyebrow and smiled politely.