"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
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
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?"