Immelman reached out and pulled it toward him. He examined the number, not recognizing it right away. His head twisted to the right so he could look directly at the flat computer monitor. “And what was your father’s name?” he asked, placing his fingers on the thin keyboard.
“Emil Hummels.”
The banker’s face twitched. It wasn’t much. And the two male guests probably didn’t even catch it, but Adriana did. The second she noticed that involuntary reaction, she knew something wasn’t right. Her eyes narrowed, full of suspicion. Based on that simple body language response, Adriana realized that Immelman knew exactly who Emil Hummels was. And more than likely, he knew about the account.
16
Immelman’s fingers flew across the keyboard as he stared at the screen. He entered the numbers on the piece of paper after typing in the name of Hummels’s father. He tapped the enter key and waited for a second as the monitor loaded a new page. His eyebrows raised, and he pinched his lips together.
“That’s odd,” he said.
He frowned and started typing again.
“What is it?” Hummels asked. He leaned forward in his seat with his hands folded.
Immelman put his hands up as if wondering the same thing. “I’m not sure. It appears that this account has been inactive for a number of years.”
It was Hummels turn to frown. “What do you mean? It’s closed? Who closed it?”
The banker shrugged. “It doesn’t appear to be closed. Just inactive.”
“Of course, it’s inactive. My father died more than twenty years ago.”
Immelman tilted his head to the side. He frowned derisively. “And in all that time no one came to check on your father’s financials? Doesn’t that sound odd to you?”
Hummels’s face flushed red. Adriana put her hand on his leg to calm him down, playing up the role of girlfriend to the hilt.
“I’m sorry,” she interrupted. “Mr. Immelman, as he mentioned before, only recently did he muster up the courage to search through his father’s records. It was a difficult and emotional task, as I’m sure you understand.” She thought fast. “Could you tell us what was in the account? Money? Bonds? Some family heirlooms, perhaps?” Adriana was crushing it as the money grubbing younger girlfriend.
Immelman drew in a long breath and typed in more information. He let out a sigh. His face lengthened an inch, displaying his condolences. “I’m sorry. It appears that your father had a safety deposit box here. But according to our records, it is empty.”
Hummels’s face washed ashen gray. “Empty? How could it be empty?”
“I’m sorry. I don’t know the answer to that. It could be that your father collected whatever was inside before he passed. We allowed him to keep the box for a number of years before the account was marked as inactive. I can assure you, we don’t take this sort of thing lightly. We do our absolute best to make sure our customers know they are valued and that the integrity of their accounts are our highest priority.”
Crestfallen, Hummels leaned back in his chair. Koenig watched on with wide eyes.
Something wasn’t right, and Adriana sensed it. Either Immelman was lying, or he was attempting to conceal evidence of some kind.
“Do you mind if I take a look at that?” she said, standing up and moving around the edge of the desk.
Before Immelman could stop her, she was at his side, scanning the page.
“I’m sorry, but this is highly irregular. If anyone is going to look at this, it would have to be him. Only a direct relative can have access to this information.” He put out a hand to keep her away, but it was too late, she’d already seen everything.
There was nothing helpful on the computer.
“Oh, I am so sorry,” she lied, slinking back to her chair.
Immelman was incensed. A vein on his right temple pulsed hard as his blood boiled. He managed to keep his demeanor somewhat professional and straightened his already tightly pressed suit. The outfit looked like it had been run over by a steamroller.
He forced a smile onto his face. “Please, Mr. Hummels. If you would like to take a look, you may.”
Hummels nodded and rose slowly from his seat. He walked around the desk and stared at the page for half a minute before letting out a long sigh. “He’s right. There’s nothing here, and this indicates that the box is empty. I’m sorry.”
Immelman caught the apology. Immediately, he turned the tables. “Why are you apologizing to her? It is your father’s account.”
Hummels swallowed. The banker was onto them. He knew there was something else going on. Hummels couldn’t think fast enough. Before he blurted out some terrible reasoning, Adriana jumped in to save him.
“He’s apologizing because he dragged me all the way here to Zurich for nothing. Don’t worry; I’ll definitely be getting my money’s worth out of this wild goose chase.”
Immelman’s expression eased, as much as a statue’s could. He seemed to accept the explanation. “Yes, well, you would be surprised at how many of these kinds of goose chases we get in this bank. The price we pay for being one of Switzerland’s oldest.” His lips parted into a grin.
They sure are proud of being one of the oldest banks in the country. But he’s hiding something. I know it. Thoughts zipped through her mind like a bullet train.
As Hummels sat down, she asked one more question. “I’m sorry to bother you, but we did come all this way. Would it be possible for us to see inside the box? I mean, you said that the account isn’t closed, right? Just inactive?”
Immelman’s right eye flinched, and he licked his top lip with the tip of his tongue. “Certainly. If that will help you get some closure on all this.” He turned to Hummels. “And since you are the next of kin, would you like to go ahead and close the account today? That is, of course, unless you have something you’d like to deposit?”
Hummels’s face was blank, covered in a vapid stare. “Sure. That will be fine. We can close it. But I would like to see the box.”
The banker tilted his head to the side and smiled. “Of course. I’ll just need to see some identification. And since, I’m assuming, you don’t have the key, I’ll need you to sign a release form and pay the deposit for the one that was lost.”
It was a jerk move for the banker to require the deposit. Then again, whatever it cost, Adriana would foot the bill. She wanted to look inside that box, if for no other reason to make Immelman squirm a little more.
The elevator ride to the below-ground levels of the bank couldn’t have been slower or more awkward. Immelman just stared straight ahead, ignoring the other occupants as the lift descended into the bowels of the old building. People rarely spoke to each other on elevators. It seemed to be a universal unwritten rule that once you got in one you were to remain quiet. The silence of this particular ride was full of discomfort. Adriana wondered if the Swiss banker knew she was on to him or if he just didn’t like the way she’d pressed the issue before. Either way, she knew that looking in the safety deposit box would prove little if nothing at all.
Her money was on it being empty, the contents removed by someone, possibly Immelman himself. He’d given the possibility a very real chance with his initial physical reaction to their line of questioning. Adriana never forgot a first impression.
When the elevator came to a stop, the metal doors opened and revealed a sterile white room beyond. Cameras were mounted on the wall in optimal positions for viewing, two in each of the four corners and one directly over the entrance to the elevator. Another door was directly opposite and required a fingerprint scan to enter. Immelman pressed his thumb to the screen, and a few seconds later, heavy locks inside the wall slid free. He pulled on the latch and pushed the door open, revealing a room on the other side that looked like something out of a science fiction movie.