Free The List by Robert Whitlow

planning on selling arms to Iraq, are you?” Morris said, raising his eyebrows in mock suspense.
    â€œNot even a firecracker.”
    Morris scratched his chin. “I get it. Did your father have an overseas account?”
    â€œGood deduction. He did, and I can’t find out what is in it.”
    â€œWhat’s the problem?”
    â€œIt was a joint account, and I have to get permission from the other party to do anything.”
    â€œWho is it?”
    â€œI don’t know.”
    â€œYou do have a problem. What are you going to do?”
    â€œThe bank is going to send me some paperwork that may let me find out who else is on the account.”
    â€œI wouldn’t know anything else to do.”
    â€œActually, I was hoping you could do a little research for me—find out how Swiss bank accounts work . . . ?”
    Morris grinned. “What are friends for? Sure, I’ll look into it. But you owe me.”
    The waiter brought their order, and they ate in silence for a few minutes. Morris spoke first, “Have you decided what you are going to do once your father’s estate is finalized?”
    Renny swallowed a big bite of burger and answered, “I really don’t know. My father’s death was so unexpected; I’m not sure what to do.”
    â€œWill you keep working at the firm?”
    Renny shrugged. “At least till I do this project for Heywood.”
    â€œIt’s not such an awful dilemma. Most people would happily trade problems with you.”
    â€œMy landlady says money sometimes causes problems.”
    Morris rolled his eyes. “Name one.”
    Renny thought. “High taxes?”
    â€œRight. Give me the money, and I’ll be happy to pay the taxes on it.”
    â€œOK, OK.” Renny wiped up a spot of ketchup with his last onion ring.
    â€œIn case you ever have too much money, my phone number is in the yellow pages under ‘Friends Who Need Money.’ Since you’re feeling so depressed about your money today, I’ll buy your lunch.”
    Renny grinned. “Thanks. Why don’t you use one of those fake hundreds?”

    Renny took the Banc Suisse forms home and filled them out that evening at his kitchen table. A copy of the original letter needed to be certified before a Banc Suisse representative. The next day he set up an appointment and met with with a Bank of America employee, a middle-aged gentleman who asked no questions and accurately reflected the detached approach of his Swiss counterparts. After checking the forms, he inspected the Banc Suisse letter, ran his thumb over the gold seal, and certified the copy as true and correct. He suggested that Renny send the information to the bank via overnight courier so that it would arrive in Geneva before the close of business Thursday evening. Renny was going to work until noon Friday, and he hoped this would enable him to hear a response before leaving for Georgetown.
    At 11:30 A.M . Friday, Renny got a call. “Mr. Jacobson, this is Hermann Diegal at Banc Suisse. We received the paperwork and certified letter on the account. Everything appears to be in order.”
    â€œGood. Who else is on it?”
    â€œThe joint party on the account is the Covenant List of South Carolina, Limited, Desmond LaRochette, director.”
    Renny whistled softly under his breath. “I should’ve known.”
    â€œI trust this is helpful to you.”
    â€œYes, I’m sure it will be.”
    â€œIf I can be of further assistance, please contact me.”
    â€œSure, thank you very much.”
    â€œGood day.”
    Renny set the receiver gently in its cradle. This List was tighter than he thought. Not only did it control the corpus, but it also had its finger on distribution. His father didn’t have unrestricted ownership of the Swiss bank account. Why not? It was not typical for his father to relinquish control voluntarily. Therefore, the restrictions must have