The Worthless Goods

        THE WORTHLESS GOODS

 

I.INTRODUCTION

 

1.Reading the Decision and lunch in the pub

My interest in Wiseheart J.’s decision in the now classic case of Masterman Bank v. Seddon arose shortly after I arrived in Oxford in 1959. My object was to write a doctoral thesis on a banking facility known as the ‘commercial letter of credit’, which features in the export and import business. It facilitates international transactions by obtaining a bank’s promise to pay the price of goods. The vendor relies on the bank’s undertaking. The buyer, in turn, knows that the price is to be paid by the bank only if the vendor tenders the prescribed documents. Usually these include a carriage document, such as a bill of lading, evidencing that the goods have been shipped.

            Wiseheart J’s decision on the subject had been delivered in 1954. I read it in Oxford’s Bodleian Library.    Usually, after a spell of three or four hours in the library,  I had my midday repast in a small pub near New College, a few minutes walk from the Law Reading Rooms. I liked its informal atmosphere, the neatly polished oak tables and the old-fashioned chairs. The array of bottles,  the draught beer taps and the friendly bar tender – the publican – gave the dimly lit place an ambience of comfort and relaxation.

The publican, addressed by his customers as ‘Jack’, came to know me well. Usually, he fixed me a shandy and watched approvingly as I dug into one of his excellent roasts. Occasionally, he treated me to a cup of coffee.

Jack’s mannerism and outlook were unmistakably British. Approachable and affable, he was, all the same, reserved.  His pronounced paunch – a beer belly – and a slight limp evidenced that he was well into middle age.

Jack was even tempered, self-assured and cheerful. He was friendly with many of us and treated his regulars as buddies. Some confided in him. I, for instance, told him much about my slowly progressing research. In contrast, Jack kept his own counsel. He seldom spoke about himself.  

Frequently Jack participated in a game of darts. He was an expert and,  on many occasions,  knocked a successful throw of another player out with his own dart. On  such occasions, he smiled with satisfaction but did not sneer. Often he was the winner. His counterparties, though, were not the real losers. Usually, Jack treated us to a round of drinks to celebrate his victory.

 

2.Jack’s stand on my research

 

Jack showed his concern when I talked to him about the subject of my doctoral thesis. He took the view that both Oxford and its libraries were too remote from the real banking world. There was more to banking than could be discovered in books. With a twinkle in his eyes, he observed that the main difference between bankers and sharks was that the latter did not camouflage their fearsome teeth.

I remonstrated: “That’s a terrible thing to say, Jack. Where would our capitalist society be without the bankers’ financial skills?”

“I’ve no idea. But, Peter, banks are no altruists. Sometimes, you want them to carry out a simple instruction and they persuade you to enter into some complex scheme. In the end, they make their profit and you make a loss. I prefer not to use them.”

I thought it best to ignore Jack’s critical remarks. On one point, though, his view was unexceptional. To study the developments and the effect of letters of credit, I needed contacts in the London banking world. To this end, one of my professors introduced me to G & M, a firm of private bankers in the City. They had been in business for about two hundred years and had an outstanding reputation. More importantly, they had been in the forefront of the letters of credit business right from the start.

 

3.Meeting London Bankers and their view about a recent decision

 

Some two weeks after my topic was approved by Oxford’s Board of Studies, I went down to London to call on the Head of G & M’s International Trade Department. Their imposing building, with its fine arched entrance gate and discreet ambience, appeared miles apart from the noisy premises of run of the mill London banks.

The officer I called on, Dennis Gray, was a sparse Englishman, whose reserved mannerism, observant and shrewd eyes and his cleanly shaved face commanded respect. He was a typical member of the upper strata of English bankers: discreet, observant, reliable and down to earth.

For a while we talked about my research project. Gray was familiar with the existing legal textbooks on letters of credit. He wondered what had induced me to tackle the subject. Was it not a dead-end topic? He nodded his approval when I observed that the existing books were out of date.

Gray mentioned that few cases came up for decision in recent years. These indicated that the developments in current practice obviated disputes but that, nevertheless, our era was the lull before the storm. Problems were bound to surface when new players got into the system.

  “Have you read Wiseheart J’s decision in Masterman Bank v. Seddon?” he asked me.

“I spotted it after I came over to England, Mr Gray.”

“What do you think of the judgment?”

“A fine decision! How could Wiseheart have reached any other conclusion?”

For a moment, Gray looked away. “On the facts presented to him, he couldn’t. But many aspects of the case did not come to light.”  

“Oh,” I said, startled.

 “Well, Mr. Berger: the underlying contract was for ‘Grade A Yasmin Tea’. The price agreed upon was higher than the retail price of such tea in London shops. Isn’t it strange that Seddon agreed to pay the exporter such a high price?”

“It is. Actually, there is no reference to this point in the judgment. Was it raised before the judge?”

“No: it wasn’t. And the transaction strikes me as fishy,” Gray spoke firmly.

“I’ll try to dig into it,” I volunteered.

            Before I left, Dennis Gray told me the Bank would help me in my research work. He, on his part, wanted to be kept informed about my insights on Seddon’s case. Although G & M were not involved in this matter, the case was of interest to them. They, too, had customers trading with Chinese counterparties via Hong Kong.

4.Jack’s view respecting the case

           

            Shortly after I went back to Oxford, I discussed my visit with Jack, the publican. In accord with my training as a lawyer, I refrained from mentioning the names of the parties, describing them as Mr. X and the Z Bank, and, as a matter of extra caution, did not mention  the nature of the goods  involved in the transaction.

            Initially, Jack looked startled but within a few second his expression cleared. Having listened attentively to my detailed account, he was pleased that I had managed to established contacts with the English banking world.

            “One point puzzles me,” I told Jack. “Why should our Mr. X try to get his money back from the Z Bank? At his request, they opened the letter of credit.  Didn’t he seek to bite the hand that fed him?”

            After a short reflection, Jack summed up: “It all depends on what took place when he discussed his business with the Z Bank’s staff in charge. Suppose the use of a letter of credit was their idea? Banks like your G & M may explain all details to Mr. X. But did the Z Bank?”

 

II.A CLOSER LOOK AT THE CASE

 

1.A closer look at the facts of Seddon’s case

 

I knew jack was right. However, one point bothered me. In all trials, the judge’s decision is based on the facts proved to him. These, of course, might be at variance with what had really taken place. In some cases, the suppression of facts is intentional: the parties seek to cover up some sordid or illegal matter looming in the background.

All the same, I found it difficult to appreciate the point made by Dennis Gray about the Seddon case. To me it had appeared a run of the mill dispute between a customer and a bank. On their face, the facts were straightforward. An English importer – one Seddon – ordered a shipment of Grade A Jasmine Tea   from an exporter trading in Hong Kong as Ng Pte Ltd. Seddon had had previous dealings with the same exporter and was satisfied with his record, standing and business integrity. All the same, Seddon arranged that the price of the tea be paid by means of a letter of credit. Why did he need an intermediary like a bank? Why didn’t he simply agree to pay the price  in cash, probably remitting  part of it in advance and the balance on delivery.

            On the facts, Seddon procured a letter of credit from the Masterman Bank, a well established firm but, at the same time, not a lead bank. In the facility procured, the Masterman Bank undertook to pay Ng the agreed price of the goods against the tender of three documents:  a bill of lading;  an insurance policy; and  Ng’s invoice. Ng tendered the stipulated documents to the Bank and obtained payment. The Bank, in turn, debited Seddon’s account.

            The  dispute started when the tea arrived in London. It turned out that instead of Grade A Yasmins Tea the shipped crates contained dust. Seddon contacted Ng forthwith only to discover that his ‘counterparty’ had been adjudicated a bankrupt. Seddon further discovered that the fraud had been committed by Ng’s suppliers in Beijing.

            Any proceedings against Ng or the ultimate supplier in China would have been pointless. Seddon’s only hope was to recover his loss from the Masterman Bank. The latter rejected his claim and denied liability. In the Bank’s opinion, Seddon’s instructions had been meticulously carried out: it had paid out against the tender of the stipulated documents.  

Seddon accepted that the documents received by the Bank were regular. But he alleged that the Bank should have advised him to insist that Ng tender an additional document, known as a certificate of quality and analysis, to be issued by an established firm of surveyors. If such a certificate had been required, the surveyor would have conducted spot checks of the goods. He would have detect the fraud.

            The Masterman Bank disputed this argument. It claimed that, under prevailing practice, a bank did not owe a customer, like Seddon, any duty of care. Seddon was familiar with the trade and knew his counterparty. Why then was he seeking to blame the Bank?

            The Judge accepted the Bank’s submissions and dismissed the case. In my eyes, the outcome was justified. Why should the Masterman Bank pay for Seddon’s simple mindedness?

           

2.Jack’s and Dennis  Gray’s reactions

 

Jack, the publican, was not impressed as I related the facts.  He wondered whether the Judge had been familiarised with the background of the transaction. Would he have reached the same conclusion if he had smelt a rat? Had he been told the full details respecting Mr. X’s dealings with the officers of the Z Bank?

            “But surely, Jack, all this should have been established by our Mr. X. Why wouldn’t he or Jack testify about them?”

            “Suppose his lawyers advised against it?” He asked, his eyes narrowing.

            “Why should they do this?”

            “They might have had their reasons,” muttered Jack and, before I had the time to reply, offered me a shandy on the house.

 

Some two weeks after my conversation with Jack, I called again on Dennis Gray. As anticipated, he agreed with my conclusions. On the face of it, the decision was unexceptional. Still, in his measured manner of speech, Gray emphasised again the oddity respecting the price of the goods. Further, he told me that a search conducted in Hong Kong revealed that Seddon was a substantial shareholder of Ng’s firm. This, too, was puzzling. 

“Surely, the Masterman Bank would not be familiar with the price of such goods. And how would they know that Seddon purchased goods from his alter ego?” I asked.

“Perhaps they didn’t know of the connection between Seddon and Ng. We can’t be certain. But they should have known the price was too high!”

“How?”

“Well, we finance timber imports from Canada and Indonesia. Suppose a customer asked me to issue a letter of credit for an unduly high price. Don’t you think I would spot the point?”

“What would you do?”

“That would depend on the circumstances. But, Mr Berger, I would not be fooled. And I would smell a rat.”

 

III.         BEHIND THE FAÇADE

 

 

Gray offered to obtain copies of the banking forms used in the Seddon case and of the correspondence between Seddon and his counterparty. His efforts, though, were fruitless:  the Masterman Bank refused to discuss the subject. The lawyers, too, clammed up. They relied on the confidentiality principle. In principle, they were right. Still, G & M was a house of standing. Accordingly, the reticence of the M. Bank and of its lawyers struck me as odd. Why would they withhold innocent information from a potential correspondent or client like G & M?  

Even so, my initial inclination was to give the investigation a miss. The ‘hidden facts’ of the case were of no significance to my research subject. Jack, the publican, urged me to do so. Would it not be better to concentrate on the research work? He noted that I was losing weight and that I appeared to be under stress. He encouraged me to  finish my work as soon as possible and to return to my practice at home.

I knew Jack was right. Still, Dennis Gray’s observations spurred me on. To start with, my curiosity had been aroused. In addition, I was keen to familiarise myself with the ruses hidden behind what might appear an ordinary and highly respectable banking practice. In plain words: I wanted to get to the bottom of things.

 

A session with the Masterman  Bank’s employees was of no help. They assured me they had no copies of the correspondence. The ‘file’, so they said, had been closed and the documents shredded.

I knew they were lying. A file may be stamped ‘ad acta’ once the matter was over. In practice, though, the documents would be archived for either five or ten years. True, getting the files from the archives could be cumbersome. But I concluded there was more to it than that: the Masterman Bank was doing its best to thwart the attempts of both G & M and myself to get the real picture. What worried them?

 A stint of three days of archival work in the registry of the High Court shed little light on the case. There was no clear record of the dealings between Seddon and the officer in  Masterman Bank’s letters of credit department. Still, the officer’s notes of the initial interview revealed that Seddon had indicated that he knew Ng well.

            Jack, who showed some interest in my detective work,  shrugged. In his opinion the X Bank – as we referred to it in our conversations – wanted to forget all about the subject. They would not welcome an enquiry into its background. Their reticence was, accordingly, understandable.

            “You don’t think this is a cover up?” I asked my fiend.

            “Hard to tell,” he observed whilst breaking our eyes contact. “But don’t jump to conclusions. For all we know, they simply want to leave well alone. I wouldn’t lose sleep over the case.”

 

IV.SEDDON’S SHADOWY DEALINGS

 

1.The true nature of the deal

 

Jack’s advice  was sound. Although I had formed a reasonably clear picture of the background facts, I had come to a dead end. I had virtually decided  to  give the case a miss, when I had a stroke of good luck.

Cases to be litigated before a court in London were usually discussed with a member of a law firm, a solicitor. His task was to obtain the required evidence, to assess the basic nature of the case and to form an initial impression.  When his work was done, the law firm referred the file to a barrister. If the latter thought the ‘cause’ was sound, he would prepare the case for trial.

Usually, a solicitor refuses to provide any information respecting a case to outsiders. It is part of his legal  training. Indeed, Seddon’s law firm retained its reticence. However, Mike Smith, the solicitor who had been in charge of Seddon’s file, had quit practice and became a business entrepreneur. From time to time, he came up to Oxford – his alma mater –  in respect of a donation made by his new business to my college.

When we met during a formal dinner in the Senior Common Room, Mike told me that Seddon had been a ‘full partner’ in Ng’s Hong Kong firm. Further, Seddon knew the supplier in China who had shipped the dust. Ng and his supplier took Seddon for a ride following a commercial dispute that had arisen between them. It related to the price of earlier shipments and to delays by Ng in making the payment due to his supplier as well as in the remittance of part of the ‘price’ to a Swiss bank account in Seddon’s name.

“We thought it inadvisable not to refer to this matter when the case was heard by the High Court. You see, Peter, the transactions involved breaches of the Exchange Control Act. Seddon arranged to have the invoices made out for about twice the price of the goods. Ng and the supplier were to get what was due to them. The balance was to be remitted from Hong Kong to Zurich.”

“Do you think Masterman Bank knew?”  

“They were not born yesterday,” grinned Mike

“Why did they proceed with the transactions?”

“Well, they wanted to ‘please’ a good customer. Further, Peter, they wanted to earn the fee payable when a letter of credit is opened by them! They are not philanthropists!”

 

2.Further investigations

 

The fresh background facts intrigued me. Was it possible that many letters of credit were issued to disguise the illegal movement of funds out of the country? Here was I, a young lawyer from Tel Aviv, hoping to build a castle consecrating the law of letters of credit. But wasn’t I yet another starry-eyed researcher, who failed to see that his holy cow was nothing but a technique used to camouflage shady dealings?

Hoping to find out whatever remained unclear, I went down to London and managed to buttonhole Jacob Brown – the barrister engaged by Seddon. Sensing that he could trust me, he opened up.

It turned out that he, too, was aware of Seddon’s illegal design. Further, he was not surprised when the Judge rejected Seddon’s arguments.

“So, it was a bad case. Wasn’t it?”

“Touch and go,” replied Jacob. “And you know, Seddon’s usual legal advisers, Messrs L & K – a conservative firm specialising in international trade and property transactions – did not handle the matter themselves. They told Seddon ‘it was not their line of country’. They referred him to H & C – a well-known law firm specialising in commercial litigation.”

“Didn’t the partners of H & C  see the writing on the wall?”

“Who can tell? Still, their object is to take cases on and – whenever possible – to make a profit. I was known as one of their ‘hawks’. The file was referred to me.”

“So, the case was not altogether hopeless?”

“As I already said, it was a ‘touch and go case’. It all depended on Seddon’s evidence. Did he rely on the Bank’s advice or did he simply give his instructions. That’s why I decided to proceed. In the event, the Bank refused to settle. And Seddon was destroyed in the cross-examination. He had to admit that he had not asked the Bank to advise him on details of the transaction.”

“Who appeared against him?”

“My good friend, Bernard. Another Oxbridge man.”

“Why didn’t the Masterman Bank raise the issue of the exchange control contravention?”

“To what end? They did not want to invoke the wrath of the Bank of England. They relied on the skill of their barrister. Bernard tore Seddon to shreds in the box: got him to admit he had had regular dealings with Ng for years. Bernard thought it best not to refer to the ‘partnership’ and illegality points.”

“So, all in all, Seddon got what he deserved?”

“He did, rather. And you know, the case ruined him. The shipment was worthless. The ensuing loss and the legal costs drove him into bankruptcy.”

 

 

3. Jack sums up

 

Jack, the publican, did not appear surprised by the facts I conveyed to him. To my surprise, he grinned when I mentioned the court proceedings. When I finished, he observed: “Look, Peter, that fellow knew his counterparty in Hong Kong. Still, before you make up your mind you ought to hear his version of the encounters with the Z Bank and the lawyers.”

            “I know. Still, on the face of it our Mr. X appears to be  a naughty fellow.”

            “But why? Haven’t you yourself taken things through customs without declaring them? Have you never smuggled US dollars on your travels out if Israel?”

            “Of course I did. And I have hidden some income from our tax authorities. Most middle-class persons are guilty of such petty dishonesties. What I find ugly is our Mr. X’s attempt to recover his losses from the Bank.”

            “It is not nice. But you should find out what made him act in such a manner!”

            “Only one person can tell us,” I muttered.

            “Quite so,” replied Jack averting his eyes.

 

 

V.BANKING LAW AND BLIND SPOTS

 

            My investigation of the hidden facts of Seddon’s case had been time consuming. At the same time, it did not impede the progress of my doctoral thesis. Jack, the publican, looked at me with concern when I arrived exhausted after long hours of work. Frequently, he treated me to a cup of strongly brewed black coffee and looked at me disapprovingly when I had a nip of rum.

 

            A few days later, I called again on Dennis Gray. I noticed the twinkle in his shrewd eyes when he handed me his meticulous notes respecting the  drafts of the first two chapters of my thesis.  His body language, too, indicated he thought my treatment was starry eyed.

“Have I overlooked some important points?”

“I don’t think so. Still, you deal with the façade. Bankers would love the clarity and be relieved that their record remains unscathed. Still, I suspect that, right from the start, the real background is often shoved into a corner.”

“You are thinking of the Seddon case, aren’t you?”

“I am. But, of course, it is only an illustration of what goes on generally. And I would like to know what you found out about that  case. Actually, did you get to the bottom of it?”

            Dennis Gray listened attentively to my narration of the facts. When I finished, he grinned at me. “Oh well, it was a fishy case, wasn’t it?”

“Wasn’t it ever. But is it an isolated case or, rather, one of a norm?”

“Rather common,” he responded unflinchingly.

“But surely, exchange control measures are of  recent origin.”

“We had some during the First World War and, I suspect, even earlier than that. But exchange control involves only one instance leading to law evasion. Tax frauds, customs evasion, illegal dealings and other untoward transactions are not new. We have lived with them for ages.”

“But surely, a respectable bank would not get involved. It would wash its hands of the affair when any illegality or shady dealings became apparent.”

“But when do they become apparent?”

“Tell me, Mr Gray: what do you think would be your own bank’s reaction to a case like Seddon’s?”

”The same as Masterman’s, I suspect. As long as the customer is creditworthy, we do our best to carry out his instructions. We’ll have to wash our hands off an affair only when we know it involves an illegal angle.”

“Do you then ignore mere suspicions?”

“We have to: that is, if we want to remain in business.”

 

            Dennis Gray’s observations made me ponder. I had, of course, been aware that from time to time banks  had to close their eyes when they suspected a transaction was shady. Their concern was not to lose a moneyed customer.

 

VI.JACK AND SEDDON: ONE AND THE SAME

 

1.Unmasking

 

My conversation with Dennis Gray convinced me that I had uncovered the seedy side of the Seddon case. Still, the picture was incomplete. I wanted to find out more about Seddon. What sort of a man was he?  He was prepared to cut corners in his business dealings. But might he, nevertheless, be a decent man? As Jack had pointed out, most people carried out ‘little dishonesties’. Still, they did not turn against their sponsor. Seddon  appeared to have done so. “Well,” I asked myself, “would it nevertheless be safe to leave  him in charge of your home when you went for a trip abroad?”  I felt the urge to meet him.

            Searching for him was hard. He had settled all accounts before he departed from  London and did not leave a forwarding address.  A casual remark of a bank employee directed my glance to Birmingham. For a while, Seddon had operated a small import and export business. The trail, though, ended there. Seddon had left Birmingham. Nobody could tell me where he had gone to.

It was time for the hunter to give up the senseless pursuit. Jack, the publican, smiled sympathetically when I told him.

“I know the feeling. You try to get there but are thwarted on every turn. Eventually you get fed up.  Come, have a shandy.” He had spoken warmly but I noticed that, once again, a speculative or contemplative expression had descended on his face.

“Thanks,” I said gratefully. “Still, Jack, I can’t understand it. People don’t just vanish into thin air: not in a civilized country.”

“Not normally. Usually, you can find them through a telephone directory. Actually, what was that chap’s name?”

“Seddon,” I confided. “Albert  Seddon, originally from Manchester.”

Jack did not give a start. But his speculative expression was gone. “Albert Seddon? And the bank? Was it by any chance the Masterman Bank?”

“It … was,” I stammered as the penny dropped.

“You could have saved yourself a lot of trouble by telling me the names earlier.”

“Everybody calls you Jack.”

            “My full name is Albert Jacob Seddon. When I got the liqueur licence and the pub, I decided to drop ‘Albert’.”

“Why?” I asked perplexed.

“My customers would have nicknamed me ‘Bert’ or ‘Bertie’. ‘Jack’ sounds better. But you, Peter, have gone all pale. You alright?”

“Yes, of course,” I assured him.

“Come, have a coffee.”

 

2.The real story

 

The story was simpler than I had anticipated. Jack had met Ng during a brief visit to Hong Kong. They became friendly, called on one another from time to time and had a few joint business ventures. Seddon expected to make marginal gains. Actually, the real object of many transactions had been to siphon money out of England. To his disappointment, Albert Seddon soon discovered that remittances of the price of goods to an overseas purchaser were scrutinised carefully by the authorities. When he called on the Masterman Bank to get its advice, they assured him that remittances were not subject to searching scrutiny when made under, or in the context of, a letter of credit.

“Were you surprised?” I wanted to know.

“Not really,” grinned Jack. “I was certain that the banks had angles of their own. You realise, Peter, that the banks make a handsome profit from opening letters of credit and the handling of documents tendered under them. Still, for a time the system worked.”

Jack went to explain that, on the face of all the transactions, Seddon paid for the tea a price higher than the London market rate. Ng retained the amount due to him and remitted the balance to Seddon’s Swiss account. As far as the tax authorities were concerned, Seddon made a net loss on the transactions. In the meantime, his Swiss bank account went from strength to strength.

“I still don’t understand,” I let my surprise show. “How would you have paid Ng without using a letter of credit?”

“I should have made a down payment and the balance after receiving the goods. I should have sent money to my Swiss account by using other means, like travellers’ cheques. The Masterman Bank came up with the new notion.”

            For a while, so Jack explained, all went well. Then came the fraud. The ‘tea’ he received was worthless and Ng was not in a position to compensate. Initially, Seddon intended to cut his losses from that deal.

            “But why did you try to get the money back from the Masterman Bank?”

            “They dreamed up the systems. So, they should have warned me about the pitfalls. Naturally, after we switched to letters of credit, Ng did not go down to China to examine the goods. How could we know that we ought to guard our rear by demanding ‘certificates’ of quality or some other such documents. The Masterman Bank should have advised us.”

            Jack added that Mike Smith, the solicitor placed in charge of the file, was bullish about his chances of recovering the loss from the Masterman Bank. Mike  was confident that Seddon would be able to convince the Court that the real fault, or lack of vigilance, was due to a shortcoming in the system proposed by the Masterman Bank.

In the event, Jack Seddon  decided to go ahead and, as I well knew, lost the case. He also knew that an appeal was out of the question.

“Do you think the Judge knew what had been going on behind the scenes?” I asked out of sheer curiosity.

Jack shrugged. “I have no idea. Still, I found out that, before his elevation to the bench, our judge was a successful Q.C., specialising in commercial cases. I suspect he new what was going on.”

 

2.Becoming a publican

           

As already known, Seddon lost his case. Worse still, he lost all the money he had accumulated in Zurich through a series of ill-advised share investments. Ng, too, had lost all his money, albeit on the Hong Kong bourse. Seddon suspected that the supplier in China had sent rubbish instead of tea because he had not been paid for earlier supplies.

“How did you become a publican?”

“My business was finished. By sheer chance I saw the advertisement respecting a lease of premises with a liqueur franchise. I decided to give it a try.”

“By why did you look for this type of business?”

“I loved to play the role of a bartender in our parties. I enjoyed myself. And people said I was very good. I thought I’d try my hand on it in business.”

“And it became a successful business,” I ventured.

“It has. And I have a good and pleasant life; far more enjoyable  than the eternal anxiety  associated with dealings in letters of credit, in shares and in currencies.”

“Are you still in touch with Ng?”

“Actually, I am. He, too, brought his ship home. He has become an exporter of exotic food stuffs. He does well out of it. And he still lives in Hong Kong.”

“Do you call on him when you travel?”

“Last time I was in Hong Kong, he treated me to crocodile meat.”

“Oh!”

“It was very good,” Jack grinned.  

 

3.Jack’s career as publican

 

I kept reflecting on Jack the publican as I walked back to my room in Newton Road. During my months in Oxford, Jack had mentioned that he had two sons. The older, Vince,  served in the police force. The younger had just completed his A Levels and had enrolled in a red brick university for a course in civil engineering. Jack’s daughter was going steady with an undergraduate. Jack hoped they would get married as soon as the boy found a suitable job as a journalist.

Jack himself enjoyed a steady and pleasant family life. He struck me as a typical member of the lower middle classes. How could he, possibly, have had an alter ego seeking the limelight of financial dealings and the excitement of foreign trade?

 

 

4.My final assessment of Seddon

 

In my original perception, the facts did not add up.  Albert Seddon, the businessman who wanted to recover his business losses from his bank, was miles apart from Jack, the warm-hearted publican. I should gratefully accept the latter’s offer to look after my affairs if I had to travel overseas. In contrast, Albert Seddon –  a dabbler in finance -  invoked my distrust.

On further reflection, I decided I was wrong. Albert Seddon’s attempt to recover his losses from the Masterman was understandable. They ensnared him in a quagmire without providing adequate commercial safeguards.  Seddon’s interest in commercial dealings was, likewise, not out of the character of Jack. The latter, too, loved to impress his audience by his mastery at darts. Both Jack and Albert were showman. But each was loyal to friends and admirers. The attempt to recover his loss from the Masterman Bank was understandable as, indeed, were Jack’s reservations about his lawyers’ behaviour.

 

 

VII.DENNIS GRAY SUMMS UP

 

            Shortly after my discovery of Seddon’s identity, I took the train  to London. My main object was to get Dennis Gray’s comments on two further draft chapters of my thesis. In addition, I wanted to have his reaction to the truth about Seddon.

            Dennis Gray gave me a list of detailed comments about my thesis. When he finished, I referred to the Seddon case. He listened attentively to my narration but, all in all, took the story in his stride.

“Were you surprised that Seddon was none other than Jack the publican?”

“I was, rather. My image of Albert Seddon, the manipulative con man, is miles apart from my respect and affection for Jack. He has been good to me.”

“But, Mr. Berger, how much did you really know about Albert Seddon, the somewhat shady character?”

“Only what I gleaned from the case and, in addition, what Jack has told me.”

“And, initially, you couldn’t associate that manipulator with the publican. I understand. But then, are the two incompatible? Are they necessarily two separate persons?”

“Obviously, they aren’t. We are talking about one and the same man but in very different roles. But aren’t the roles inconsistent?”

“Not if you place each in its own context.”

 

I looked at him intently. Actually, my knowledge of Dennis Gray’s life outside the city was scanty. I knew he was married and that his two sons were cadets in the foreign trade departments of two leading banks. He had also mentioned that his older daughter had set the date of her wedding. All the same, I had no idea of Dennis Gray’s life at home and as a family man. For instance, was he a handy man? What were his favourite sports? Did he like to watch old films?

“Most of us position people where we first meet them. To you, I am Dennis Gray, the London banker. Things got complex in your relationship with Seddon. You thought you knew all about a … shady character known as Seddon. At the very same time, you enjoyed your friendship with Jack, the publican. You had a shock, when the two turned out to be one and the same person. But, you know, Seddon and I may come from similar backgrounds.  We simply opted for very different routes.”

“Similar backgrounds?”

“Quite possible. The British class structure is not easily comprehended by foreigners.”

“I understand,” I had to concede. “Still, the same holds true in other places. The well-dressed man standing next to you in the tram in Vienna may be an actor, a banker, any type of businessman or, possibly, an experienced con man or a serial killer. Occasionally, we can identify his background when he opens his mouth but, then, people often learn to disguise their accent.”

“You could have said the same thing about any passenger in our underground. So, the British are not unique,” grinned Dennis Gray.  

 

 

VIII.SEDDON’S SUCCESSOR

 

            A few months later I Left England to take up a post in Singapore. After three years, I returned to England for a few months to carry out further research of English banking practice.

            The first person I called on when I arrived in London was Dennis Gray. He had aged during the ensuing three years and was getting ready to retire in a small village near Bath. Was it his place of birth? I thought it best not to enquire.

            A few days later I went up to Oxford for a spell in the Bodleian Law Reading Rooms. Naturally, I went to have a meal in Jack’s pub near New College. To my surprise, Jack was no longer there. The new bartender, who looked a bit like Jack, was in his mid-thirties.

“Where is Jack?”

“You wouldn’t be one of his old customers?”

“As a matter of fact, I am. I was away for some three years.”

“I am afraid I have bad news. Dad passed away about a year ago.”

“I am shocked,” I told him when I recovered my voice.  “But please tell me: what on earth happened? Jack was in his prime and I thought he was a healthy and fit fellow.”

“He was, rather. Still, he drank the beer-spills when he got the barrels ready each morning.”

“But that stuff is poison: full of lead. He must have known this.”

“I am afraid he knew. But he used to say it was still beer. The end was kidney failure.”

“How awful,” I stammered.

“Are you by any chance the fellow from Israel, who used to work on some banking law topic?” asked Jack’s son, Vince.

“I am. But how come you are here? Jack did not tell me he expected his son to take the business over?”

“I left the police force after Dad died. I’ve been running the business ever since.”

 

For a while both of us kept silent. Recovering his composure, Vince treated me to a shandy and invited me to have lunch on the pub.

I saw him often during the succeeding ten weeks. After a while, I came to like him just as much as I used to like his late father. Shortly before I flew back to Singapore, I gave Vince a nice set of Staffordshire beer mugs. He looked pleased when I promised to look him up when I next came over to England.