Nuclear Surprise

by Rob Carnell

  "To gain entrance to the office, just enter your birth date on the keypad."

  "Yes father, I understand."

  "Please stay with me Kamal, your presence comforts me."

  "Of course father."

  The wait for the inevitable was short. Barely twenty minutes later Reza, Sheikh of the Pashwari clan just stopped breathing. Alarms and sirens began to sound, and nurses arrived and began resuscitation. The doctor arrived a few moments later and ordered the nurses from the room.

  "I must honor the wishes of your father. He made me promise that his life would not be prolonged after he had spoken with you. Did you speak with him?" asked the grim doctor.

  "Yes doctor, he told me what he needed to say."

  The doctor switched off the alarms and pulled the sheet up to cover the face.

  Chapter 21

  Balances Bank

  Lucerne, Switzerland

  22 Years Ago

  * * *

  KAMAL WAS not quite certain of the protocol.

  He was also not quite sure why he was here.

  As ordered, Kamal had gone alone to Razak’s office. As promised by his father, his birth date opened the numeric lock. In the top drawer was the letter addressed to him.

  Inside the envelope was the key to a safety deposit box. Also inside was a card for the Balances Bank in Lucerne Switzerland.

  Kamal took a deep breath and decided to walk in. He pushed on the door, but it was securely locked. There was no door bell or door knocker. Beside the door however, was a keyhole.

  Remembering the key his father had given him, he opened his briefcase and removed the key. It was easy to locate because the key and the letter from his father were the only contents. Kamal was hoping he would be leaving with the briefcase full.

  He tried the key in the lock and it opened silently.

  Then he walked inside the small bank building. The outside of the bank did not do justice to the marble and gold fittings to be seen inside. However, the room was completely empty.

  A few seconds later there was a buzz and a marble panel in the wall opened and a middle aged man walked over. He was immaculately dressed in a dark Christian Lacroix pin stripe suit with a bright pink tie. On his feet were shiny black, hand stitched loafers.

  "I am very sorry for your loss Mr. Pashwari. My name is Juergen Miltser. I am the manager of this bank."

  "How do you know my name?" asked a surprised Kamal.

  "You father got a message to me after his accident."

  "My father gave me this key to a safety deposit box before he died" explained Kamal showing the key.

  "Off course Sir, I understand. But before I take you to the private boxes, I need to explain a few things about our bank."

  "Please go ahead" said Kamal enquiringly.

  "Do you know much about the banking industry in Switzerland Mr. Pashwari?" queried Juergen.

  "Not a bit, I have been at school in the U.S. I need to get right back to sit my final exams."

  "Well, the history of banking in Switzerland is a long one. Security has always been of paramount importance. Your father began an account with us in 1956. My father ran the bank in those days. Your father opened his account with our minimum deposit of ten million dollars."

  Kamal asked "What is the balance now?"

  "I will get to that. Since then your father made very large deposits. It is of course none of our concern where the funds came from, and soon he was our largest depositor. We are a private bank, and we were owned by my family."

  "One day your father came to Switzerland with a business proposition. As well as being the largest investor, he purchased the bank from my family. I maintain a 5% holding so we still comply with Swiss banking regulations.

  The only investments held by this bank now, are the assets of your family, and the assets of my family. Both are considerable. But we still have the deposit boxes."

  "Are you telling me that I now own a bank?"

  "Yes sir. That is precisely what I am telling you. Come with me. Let’s take a look for that deposit box."

  Juergen placed his thumb on a pad beside the wall and there was a click and the marble panel opened to admit the two men.

  Inside were half a dozen people all formally dressed. They were all sitting at computer screens and tapping wildly on computer keyboards.

  "These are our traders" explained Juergen "they invest in currency, international shares, precious metals and oil."

  "Our people are some of the best in the world. Their remuneration is based purely on the profit they make for us. All are very wealthy individuals."

  They continued to an elevator and once again Juergen placed his thumb on a panel and its doors opened. There was no button to select a destination. Once inside, the lift descended automatically.

  When the doors opened, they were inside a vast vault. On one wall was the enormous door of the vault. On the other side of the room were the rows of deposit boxes.

  "In the old days, we had lots of depositors. Before World War II all these boxes were in use. These days, yours and mine are some of the only active boxes" explained Juergen.

  "What do you mean by active?" asked a confused Kamal.

  "In wartime, we had many clients who were Jewish businessmen, others were Nazi officers. Some claimed the boxes after the war, others never did. I fear many may have been killed in the war, or met their end in Nazi concentration camps. The contents of many of these boxes have remained untouched for more than fifty years."

  Juergen held his hand out for Kamal’s key. He then inserted another key from a fob chain and opened a flap on the panel. Then he pulled the deep deposit box from inside and placed it on a table.

  "I have some matters to attend to upstairs. There is a security camera in here, just wave when you are finished with the box and I will come back." Juergen pressed a button on the table and a black curtain descended from the ceiling all around the table to provide security from the camera when the box was open. Then he took his leave and took the elevator upstairs.

  Kamal unpacked the box and started to look at the contents. Inside were quite a number of printed bank statements and huge wads of cash from many different countries. There was also a letter addressed to him in his father’s handwriting.

  My dearest son Kamal,

  If you are reading this, then I will have passed over.

  Do not be sad. I have had a wonderful life and would not change a thing. I am proud of you my son. I know you will be a worthy head for the Pashwari clan.

  There is much about my life that you do not know. In fact nobody knows what I am about to reveal to you. You must tell no-one about this.

  When I was negotiating the oil contracts for OPEC, I realized that western countries were anxious to pay much more than the Arab countries wished to charge. Negotiating these contracts was difficult work and I began to ask for a commission on sales paid for by the buyers, the massive oil companies. They were very keen to pay as I was able to speed up the contract process and save everyone money in the end. Some of these contracts are still in place and the money will continue to flow into my accounts as long as the oil continues to flow in the Gulf.

  Some of this money is deposited in Balances Bank.

  Juergen has probably explained some of this to you already.

  However, Juergen is unaware that this is not all the funds. You will find statements for eleven other banks as well in this box. On each statement, I have written the coded numbers that will get you access to these accounts as well.

  Congratulations my son, you are now the richest man in history.

  Please look after our family, but of course they are already provided for with my other business interests.

  No-one else in the world is aware of the existence of this fortune.

  I have long wondered what to do with this money, but my time is at an end, and I am leaving management of these funds to you.

  Use them to further the ideals if Islam.

  Return to
the Palace. I have arranged a wife for you. Her name is Tamar. She is the daughter of the Police Commissioner.

  Rule the Pashwari clan firmly but wisely.

  Your father

  Razak

  When Kamal left the bank, his briefcase was bulging with some of the cash that he removed from his private box.

  Chapter 22

  Pashwari Palace

  Riyadh, Saudi Arabia

  22 Years Ago

  * * *

  AS INSTRUCTED, Kamal immediately returned to the palace.

  He was way too western to believe in arranged marriages, but he did love the Islamic philosophy of taking more than one wife. The only proviso under the Koran was that he be able to deal with multiple wives justly. If he did not like this one, he would just get another and another until he got it right.

  On his arrival home, there was a letter waiting for him from the Police Commissioner. He was a smart man, and desperate for his daughter to marry Kamal. He had enclosed an unveiled picture of his daughter Tamar. She was obviously no red head, but she was certainly young, and extremely beautiful.

  Kamal could see no reason not to forge an alliance with the Police, so he readily agreed to the marriage. There were some contractual things to work out and a dowry, but this was not unreasonable considering the police protection that Kamal had just inherited.

  Three weeks later, the marriage of Kamal and Tamar became the second largest wedding in Saudi history, behind that of the King.

  There were nearly a thousand guests to celebrate the union of the Pashwari clan with the police chief’s daughter.

  Tamar was very nervous, but her hand in Kamal’s put her at ease. She had been briefed on what was expected of her. It was the most wonderful day in her young life.

  Things changed shortly afterwards when then both arrived at the bridal chamber.

  "Put this on" said Kamal as he threw a red wig to Tamar as soon as they were inside.

  "What is this?" Tamar asked.

  Kamal’s reply was a backhanded slap across her face "Do as you are told woman. Do as I command, never ever question me again."

  Tamar was stunned but put the wig on her head. She wept openly as Kamal ripped off her wedding dress and raped her savagely.

  "I love you Geraldine" said Kamal when he was satisfied.

  Tamar ran to the bathroom and locked the door. She finally fell asleep still bleeding on the floor.

  Chapter 23

  Balances Bank

  Lucerne, Switzerland

  21 Years Ago

  * * *

  JUERGEN WAS surprised to see his new boss Kamal quite so soon. It was only six months since his initial visit to the Lucerne bank.

  "Welcome Mr. Pashwari, it is good to see you again" said Juergen extending his hand as he again emerged from the panel in the wall. He seemed to be dressed identically to the last time Kamal was here.

  "Thank you Juergen. I had to return to M.I.T. to sit my final exams and attend graduation. But I have been doing a lot of thinking since our last meeting."

  "Excellent, do you wish to invest some of your funds in other areas?" suggested Juergen.

  "Not exactly, can we go back inside the vault?"

  "Of course Sir, come this way."

  "Can I ask you a favor?" pleaded Kamal.

  "Of course Sir, anything you request."

  "Please never call me Mr. Pashwari or Sir again. That was my father. Kamal is my name. Please call me that, particularly now that we are in business together!"

  "Of course Sir, Kamal it is!"

  They once again descended into the bowels of the building and emerged inside the massive vault.

  "Do you need your box Kamal?" asked the banker.

  "No thank you Juergen. Not this time. I wanted to talk to you in private about a business proposition."

  "Just a moment then," Juergen walked over to the wall. He opened a panel and flicked a switch.

  "Everything down here is sound recorded, I have disabled the device."

  "Excellent. My idea concerns our last conversation down here when you explained all the abandoned deposit boxes. I think we should open the boxes and invest the contents. If someone comes to claim a box later, we can pay them interest as well on their investment."

  "Absolutely not Sir, I mean Kamal. That would contravene Swiss banking practices" said Juergen indignantly. "Our laws are very strict."

  "Perhaps, but I was considering that we could split the proceeds from the unclaimed boxes."

  Juergen thought for a few moments "Perhaps this is something that could be considered further."

  "You must know which boxes are accessed regularly. Let’s just start with the oldest ones and see what we find inside" Kamal suggested deviously.

  "I will be back soon. Let me printout a list, I am not sure how many that would be."

  Juergen went upstairs for a couple of minutes and came back with some papers.

  "I switched off the cameras as well."

  "There are forty seven boxes that have not been opened since 1945. One hundred and twenty three have not been opened in the last twenty years."

  "Can we open the boxes?" asked Kamal.

  "It is impossible. There needs to be two keys. I have the bank key but not the individual keys to open the boxes themselves."

  "What happens when the owner of a box loses their key?"

  "I have a locksmith who comes to open the box. We charge the client one thousand Swiss Francs for the service. We are only charged a small fee. The locksmith has a gun like instrument. He puts it in the lock and pulls the trigger and the lock opens up in seconds" Juergen explained.

  Kamal opened the small briefcase that he again carried.

  "Does it look like this?" asked Kamal producing the tool that Juergen had just described.

  "How did you get one of those, I understand they are a controlled item?"

  "Money can buy anything" said Kamal smugly.

  Juergen looked up the oldest box number on the list. They located the box and together they cautiously opened the flap. Juergen used his key. Kamal inserted the lock gun and pulled the trigger. He jiggled it around a bit then turned and the lock popped open. He pulled the box clear and put it carefully on the table.

  Inside were some ancient looking stock certificates in long extinct companies. In addition there were some quite heavy gold bars with the swastika mark on them. And, there was a very old book also with swastika insignia showing a submarine symbol and labeled "U-140". Juergen’s printout named the owner as a senior German Nazi SS officer called Karl Frederix.

  "What do you make of these" Kamal asked Juergen.

  "The gold bars are obviously valuable. We have a gold expert upstairs. Why don’t I go and get Thomas Stein?"

  "Yes, that would be a good idea. But first, what is this old book?"

  Miltser picked it up and opened the cover. "Do you understand German Kamal?" he asked.

  "Ya, but I am rusty. What does it say?"

  Miltser read for a few seconds longer before answering, "this seems to be the ships log from a Nazi submarine. It mysteriously stops in August 1943. I don’t understand, because if the U-boat was sunk, the log would have been lost."

  "Let me read some more while you go and find your gold man. I will put the rest of the stuff away while you go fetch him." suggested Kamal.

  Juergen came back soon afterwards followed by a short pudgy little man with horn rimmed glasses.

  "Thomas, this is Mister Pashwari. He is one of the largest investors in our bank" said Juergen.

  "I am pleased to meet you Mister Pashwari" said Thomas extending his hand.

  "Juergen has told me you are doing an excellent job handling our gold investments."

  "Thank you Sir. I have made the study of precious metals my life’s work."

  "I am glad to hear that Thomas. Perhaps you can help me out. I have inherited some things from a relative of mine who passed away recently."

  "I am sorry to hear that Sir" said Thomas
reverently.

  "What can you tell me about this?" asked Kamal as he removed the gold bar from his briefcase and handed it to Thomas.

  Thomas took a quick look and then passed it back almost immediately, a look of horror on his face.

  "Mister Pashwari, I can’t help you I am afraid" announced Thomas.

  "What is the problem Thomas?" asked Juergen.

  "You must have noticed the German swastika insignia cast into the ingot."

  "Is that a problem?" queried Kamal.

  "Well, not exactly. This ingot was cast by the German central bank, the Reichsbank sometime during World War II. The problem is the marking on the back. That A letter inside a circle indicates that the gold to cast the ingot came from Auschwitz, the extermination camp in Poland. Some of the gold was looted from Jews before they were slaughtered in the gas chambers. The rest of the gold came from gold fillings that were removed from the teeth of the corpses. I am Jewish, and I find the whole thing most offensive. There is a rumor that tons of these gold bars were produced. But very little has ever surfaced. Perhaps they were melted down and recast so they were easier to sell."

  "I understand Thomas. What should I do with the ingot?" asked Kamal.

  "I believe that these are extremely valuable with private collectors, but the correct course of action is to turn it over to the Jewish world conference. They will distribute the proceeds to families of the Holocaust victims."

  "Then I will do as you suggest. I appreciate your guidance" said Kamal before Thomas departed.

  "Let’s keep opening the boxes and see what else we locate" said Kamal to Juergen.

  The next few boxes contained little of value, just an old wartime Walther P38 9mm pistol wrapped in a white cloth. It was well oiled and looked brand new, unfired and in perfect condition. There were also some ancient faded old photographs of an army officer and his children.

  Over the next three days, they continued their task and opened the rest of the forty seven oldest boxes.