1941

I’m on a train to a strange city. As does everyone else on board this vehicle I do not look to my left or my right. I stare straight ahead and pay as little attention to what is going on anywhere else as is humanly possible. The carriage is packed with people – standing, squatting, sitting. No one speaks.

The man facing me buys a cup of tea from the carriage assistant and drops it before he can drink any of it. He curses. The tea has splashed me.

- So sorry, he says to me. – I’ll pay to have them cleaned.

I’m alarmed by his familiarity.

- No trouble at all, I say. – I can clean them myself.

- No, I insist. He rummages in his pockets. – Take this.

He hands me a roll of notes bound with an elastic band. No one else watches us. I am amazed at the amount of money he is handing me. There must be nearly a thousand dollars there.

- This is out of the question…

- No, really. I just won a big lottery. I don’t need it.

I think to myself.

- Well…if you’re giving it away then I’ll take it…and anything else you’re giving away.

- Here – take this as well, then.

He hands me up a brown hard case. It’s filled with notes. Absolutely filled.

I get off the train and rush to a nearby bank where the teller informs me that the notes are all duds. I am treated with great suspicion. He lets me go eventually but keeps the notes for the police.

Three weeks later I am in the same town. The bank is closed and the teller is seen driving a large and powerful sports car.