The man had shown up uninvited at the bank this morning and flashed a credential from Washington. Sassafras, Sassaman . . . an unusual name. He had known the bank’s trading desk made a minor specialty of equities with interests in developing countries. That was something Karl had proposed to his father-in-law a decade ago. It was a way for the bank to set itself apart from others, and a way for Karl to justify trips to Southeast Asia and Africa. He liked the warm weather and the perks of being wined and dined by representatives of Third World start-ups, and he liked the women they introduced him to at the end of the evenings. The bank had made money as a result of his research expeditions, so everybody was happy. Or had been until recently, when the decline in commodity prices and uncertainties about tariffs and other impediments to market access had driven valuations down. The bank had instituted cost-cutting measures that eliminated his next planned trip. “Use the internet for your research,” his father-in-law had suggested. “If you need to talk to people, use Skype.”

Thanks for the brilliant suggestions, sir. Never would have occurred to me.

So he was in no mood to be accommodating to any random stranger, least of all some kind of American official. The bank had dutifully followed the know-your-client rules instituted at the insistence of the United States. It had cost the bank money in time and personnel and, worse, lost it clients who preferred not to be known so had closed their Swiss accounts and moved their money to God knows where. The Caymans? Malta? Antarctica? To avoid the most onerous reporting requirements, the bank had stopped accepting any new accounts from American citizens, which meant a whole tranche of wealthy Americans retired in Switzerland were now off limits. Thank you very much, USA.

The visitor was polite and had an appealing friendly look in the American way. He could have been a tourist wandering into the office to exchange dollars for francs. But he’d wanted information about the shares of a company called Sahel Hydrocarbon. Specifically, had the bank’s trading desk lent any shares of the stock to a short seller, and, if so, to whom?

Karl told him that any such information would of course be confidential.

The visitor said there were reporting requirements to which Switzerland had agreed and this certainly fell within their purview.

Karl acknowledged that such reporting requirements did now, unfortunately, extend to Switzerland, but the visitor was American, not Swiss, and if such a loan of securities had occurred, and if it did not involve any American companies or persons, the American had no standing to receive the information.

Ah, said the American, so such a loan had occurred.

That’s not what I said, said Karl. Is my English so bad that I am not making myself clear?