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Roland shrugged and said, “Thirty years ago it was the same in America. But your government feels compelled to stick its nose in places where it does not belong—even into the right of an individual to partake in a simple manly pleasure. They have instituted a propaganda war against smoking, which, thankfully, has not spread to this side of the Atlantic. How bizarre it is for a government to decide what and what not a man might put into his own body. What will be next, I wonder, food?” He smiled broadly and laughed, then patted his fat stomach with great relish. “If that day comes, my friend, I will surely put a pistol in my mouth and pull the trigger!”

I let out a gentle laugh and shook my head and waved my hand in the air, as if to say, “Oh, come on! You’re not really that fat!” Then I said, “Well, you’ve answered my question, and what you say makes a lot of sense. The United States government is overly intrusive in all aspects of life, which is the exact reason I’m sitting here today. But I still have many concerns about doing business in Switzerland, most of them stemming from my lack of knowledge about your world—meaning overseas banking—and that makes me extremely nervous. I’m a firm believer, Roland, that knowledge is power and that in a situation like this, where the stakes are so incredibly high, a lack of knowledge is a recipe for disaster.

“So I must become more knowledgeable. Everyone, at some point, needs a mentor, and I look to you for just that. I have no idea how I’m supposed to operate within your jurisdiction. For example, what things are considered taboo? Where is the line of good judgment? What is considered recklessness and what is considered prudence? These are things that are very important for me to know, Roland, things I must know if I’m to steer clear of trouble. I need to understand all your banking laws down to the very letter. If possible, I would like to look at past indictments, to see what other people have gotten in trouble for and what mistakes they’ve made, and then to make sure I don’t repeat them. I’m a student of history, Roland, and I’m a firm believer that he who doesn’t study the mistakes of the past is doomed to repeat them.” This was something I had done—looking through old indictments—when I started Stratton, and it had been invaluable.

Roland said, “That is another wonderful insight, my young friend, and I will be more than happy to gather some information for you. But perhaps I can shed some light on things for you right now. You see, virtually all problems Americans run into with Swiss banking have little to do with what happens on this side of the Atlantic. Once your money is safely here, I will disappear it into a dozen different corporations without raising any red flags, outside the prying eyes of your government. I understand from Jean Jacques that Mrs. Mellor was at the bank this morning, yes?”

I nodded. “Yes, and she’s already on her way back to England. But I have a copy of her passport if you need it.” I tapped my hand over my left suit-jacket pocket, to let him know it was on my person.

“That is excellent,” said Roland, “quite excellent. If you would be kind enough to provide me with it, I will keep it on file with each corporation we form. On a separate note, please understand that Jean Jacques shares information with me only under the authorization you granted him. Otherwise, he would have never mentioned a word about Mrs. Mellor presenting herself at the bank. And I would like to add that my relationship with Jean Jacques is one-way. I will tell him nothing of our business unless you instruct me to.

“You see, I would strongly recommend that you do not put all your eggs in one basket. Do not misunderstand me, though: Union Bancaire is a fine institution, and I recommend that you keep the bulk of your money there. But there are banks in other countries as well—Luxembourg and Liechtenstein, just to name two—that will serve a useful purpose to us. Layering your transactions in many different countries will create a web so tangled it would be nearly impossible for any single government to untangle it.

“Each country has its own set of laws. So what might be penal in Switzerland might very well be legal in Liechtenstein. Depending on what sort of transaction you are contemplating, we would form separate corporate entities for each part of the transaction, doing only what is legal in each particular country. But I am painting broad strokes here. The possibilities are much greater than that.”

Incredible! I thought. A true Master Forger! After a few moments of silence I said, “Perhaps you can give me a brief education on the ins and outs of things. I can’t begin to tell you how much more comfortable that would make me. I mean, there are obvious benefits to doing business in a corporate name—whether it be in the United States or Switzerland—but what I’m interested in are the less obvious benefits.” I smiled and leaned back deeper in my seat and crossed my legs. It was the sort of posture that so much as said, “Take your time in telling me; I’m in no rush.”

“Of course, my friend; now we are getting to the heart of matters. Each of those corporations is a bearer corporation, meaning that there is no actual paperwork stating who the owner is. In theory, whoever possesses the actual stock certificates—the so-called bearer—is deemed the rightful owner. There are two ways to secure your ownership in a corporation such as this. The first is take personal possession of the stock certificates—to be the physical bearer of them. In that case, it would be yourresponsibility to find a safe place to keep them, perhaps in a safe-deposit box in the United States or something like that. The second way would be to open a numbered safe-deposit box in Switzerland and keep the certificates there. You alone would have access to this box. And unlike a Swiss bank account, a safe-deposit box is truly numbered; there will be no name attached to it.

“If you choose that route, then I would suggest that you lease a box for a term of fifty years and pay the entire fee up front. Under those circumstances there would be no way for any government to gain access to that box. Only you—and perhaps your wife, if you so desire—would be aware of its existence. And if I could offer you a piece of advice, I would recommend that you do not inform your wife. Instead, provide me with instructions on how to contact her—heaven forbid anything should ever happen to you. You have my express word that she will be notified immediately.

“But, please, my friend, do not take my statement as any indication that I question your wife’s trustworthiness. I’m sure she is a fine young lady, and from what I hear, very beautiful as well. It’s just that it would not be the first time a disgruntled wife led an eager IRS agent to a place he were better not led.”

I took a moment to consider his statement, and it sounded awfully reminiscent of the ghosts of six million slaughtered Jews roaming the streets of Zurich and Geneva, trying to find their Swiss bankers. Although, I had to admit, Roland seemed to be the sort who would stand up and do the right thing. But how could I be sure of that? As the ultimate Wolf in Sheep’s Clothing, who should know better than me that appearances could be deceiving? Perhaps I would tell my father or, better still, hand him a sealed envelope with the explicit instructions that it should be opened only in case of my untimely demise—which, given my penchant for flying stoned and scuba diving during blackouts, seemed like a distinct possibility.

I chose to keep all those stray thoughts to myself. “I prefer the second option—for many different reasons. And in spite of the fact that I’ve never received a subpoena from the Justice Department, it still makes sense to keep all my documents outside their jurisdiction. As you’re probably aware, all my legal problems are civil in nature, not criminal, which is exactly the way it should be. I’m a legitimate businessman, Roland. I want you to know that. First and foremost, I always try to do things right. But hard as I try, the simple fact is that many of the U.S. securities laws are entirely ambiguous, with no absolute right or absolute wrong. I tell you the truth, Roland: In many cases—most cases, actually—what violates the law is more a matter of opinion than anything else.” What a crock of shit!But it sounded awfully good. “So, occasionally, something that I thought was perfectly legal ended up biting me in the butt. It’s kind of unfair, but that’s the way it is. Anyway, I would say that most of my problems are directly related to poorly written securities laws, laws that are designed for selective enforcement against individuals the government feels like persecuting.”