Ashley shrugged. “No, it doesn’t.”

“You’re secretive about where you got your money. Why?”

“I was raised not to discuss such things in public.” Which was a lot of nonsense. Barky would discuss money with anyone.

“You win the lottery?”

“No.”

“Come on, Ashley. What do you think this interview’s all about? People are going to want to know where you got your millions.”

Ashley breathed heavily.

“Hey. Better to tell me right up front than have me speculate in print.”

“I suppose you have a point. All right, but it’s complicated—and not really very exciting. My brother and I are the beneficiaries of a Liechtenstein trust.”

“What’s that?”

Naturally she would ask. Ashley said, “It’s complicated.”

“I’m a smart person.”

Pat Oberlin could find out what a Liechtenstein trust was if she put her mind to it—and Ashley had no doubt she would. Perhaps it was better this way, she thought. Perhaps, in a way, she had been gearing up for this moment for the past four years and, especially, for the past couple of months. She could have guessed Rob Gazelle would be at the opening Saturday night. She could have found out who he was if she’d really wanted to...needed to. But she hadn’t. And there had to be a reason for that: she wanted the proverbial cat out of the bag.

I think...“Oh, hell.”

“Just spit it out,” Pat Oberlin suggested.

“A Liechtenstein trust is a device created by the Swiss banking system to ensure anonymity and used, most often, in cases presenting inheritance difficulties.”

“Like what?”

“Annoying spouses, unpleasant children, that sort of thing. I’m not an expert. I’m just repeating what my attorney told me.” Ashley put her hands in her lap so Oberlin couldn’t see her twisting her fingers together. “Basically, the donor—the person setting up the trust—goes to the bank in person with the funds to be deposited, satisfies the bank the account won’t infringe on any laws and signs a ‘declaration of honorable intent.’ This protects the bank.”

Pat Oberlin rattled her pen in the crook between her thumb and forefinger but didn’t interrupt.

“Then the donor assigns power of attorney to a group of Liechtenstein lawyers who will serve as the fund’s trustees. They ensure the terms of the trust will be carried out precisely according to the wishes of the donor—and within the realm of the law. The beauty of a Liechtenstein trust is that this arrangement can continue even after the death of the donor.”

“Now we’re getting down to the grit,” the You reporter said with a hopeful grin. “You mean your donor could be dead?”

“Theoretically, yes.”

“You don’t know?”

“Let me finish," Ashley said. "Together, the donor and the lawyers set up a portfolio management agreement, which gives the Swiss bank the authority to manage the funds in the trust. The donor may set up guidelines, but all actual buying and selling is performed by the bank.”

“Who’s your bank?”

“Piccard Cie in Geneva, Switzerland.” There was no harm in telling Oberlin that much: no one at Piccard would discuss the terms of the trust with anyone but Ashley, David and their attorneys.