An English man inherits a sealed 1945 letter from his father. Inside, instructions to open a mysterious Swiss deposit box. But he is not the only one interested in the box - the KGB wants it too. We won't spoil the book for you but there is a good reason.

Two things seem quite clear from this book: author Jeffrey Archer has done extensive research on Swiss banks and he got to like them. The book's rendering of Swiss banks is extremely realistic. His Swiss banks have plausible names, the buildings look like real Swiss bank buildings, the furniture inside is properly described, the bankers' names, accent, functions and way of speaking are well observed. Furthermore, the treatment of dormant accounts at the time of the writing (1986) and the procedures to pass the ownership of an account to an heir are very well documented and grounded in facts.

‘‘The Swiss banking families all know each other intimately and have never in the past shown any propensity for breaking the law. Swiss justice, in our experience, is as tough on corrupt bankers as it is on murderers, which is precisely why the Mafia was never happy about laundering its money through the established banks. The truth is that Swiss bankers make so much money dealing with honest people that is has never been in their best interests to become involved with crooks. There are remarkably few exceptions to this rule, which is the reason so many people are willing to do business with the Swiss.’’

The British man who inherited the Roget & Cie deposit box asks a friend some basic questions about Swiss bank accounts, and get rather straight answers:

‘‘How does one open a Swiss bank account?’’ [...]

‘‘In truth, anyone can open a Swiss bank account as long as they have a worthwhile sum to deposit. And by worthwhile I mean at least ten thousand pounds.

‘‘Yes, but how would you go about getting the money out?’’

‘‘That can be done over the phone or in person, and in that way Swiss banks don’t differ greatly from any bank in England. Few customers, however, would risk the phone, unless they’re resident in a country where there are no tax laws to break. In which case why would they need the gnomes of Zurich in the first place?’’

‘‘What happens when a customer dies and the bank can’t be sure who the rightful owner of the assets is?’’

‘‘They would do nothing but a claimant would have to prove that they were the person entitled to inherit any deposits the bank held. That’s not a problem if you’re in possession of the correct documentation such as a will and proof of identity. We deal with such matters every day.’’

‘‘But you just admitted that it’s illegal!’’

‘‘Not for those clients resident overseas, or when it becomes necessary to balance our gold deposits, not to mention the bank’s books. But the Bank of England keeps a strict watch over every penny that goes in and out of the country.’’

‘‘So, if I were entitled to a million pounds’ worth of gold left to me by an Argentinian uncle deposited in a Swiss bank, and I was in possession of the right legal documents to prove I was the beneficiary, all I would have to do is go and claim it?’’

‘‘Nothing to stop you,’’ said Lawrence. ‘‘Although under the law as it currently stands, you would have to bring it back to this country, and sell the gold to the Bank of England for the sum they deemed correct, and then pay death duty on that sum.’’ Adam remained silent. ‘‘If you do have an Argentinian uncle who has lesft you all that gold in Switzerland, your best bet would be to leave it where it is. Under this Government, if you fulfilled the letter of the law, you would end up with about seven and a half per cent of its true value.’’

Romanov [...] hailed a passing taxi going in the opposite direction.

‘‘Bischoff et Cie,’’ he said as he waited for his puffing assistant to join him. [...]

Swiss taxi-drivers know the way to the banks in the same way as London cabbies can always find a theatre and New York’s yellow cabs a Westside bar. [...]

The cab headed back in the direction of the hotel, winding in and out of the morning traffic, until it came to a halt in front of a large brown granite building that filled the entire block. Romanov paid off the driver and stood in front of imposing doors made of thick glass and covered in wrought iron welded to look like the branches of a tree. By the side of the doors, carved inconspicuously into the stone and inlaid with gilt, were the words ‘Bischoff et Cie’. There was no other clue as to what kind of establishment lay within. [...]

‘‘Herr Bischoff will be with you in a moment,’’ the lady said, withdrawing. Romanov remained standing while he took in the room. Three black-and-white framed photographs of sombre old men in grey suits, trying to look like sombre old men in grey suits, took up most of the far wall, while on the other walls were discreet but pleasant oils of town and country scenes of nineteenth-century Switzerland. A magnificent oval Louis XIV table with eight carved mahogany chairs surrounding it dominated the centre of the room. Romanov felt a twinge of envy at the thought that he could never hope to live in such style.’’

When a second group of characters reaches the other bank, Roget & Cie in Geneva, they are rather impressed by the building despite its inconspicuousness:

When they had crossed the road Heidi enquired of the doorman the way to Roget et Cie. They followed his directions, once again admiring the great single-spouted fountain as they continued on towards the centre of the city.

Roget et Cie was not that easy to pinpoint, and they walked past it twice before Heidi spotted the discreet sign chiselled in stone by side of a high wrought-iron and plate-glass door.

‘‘Looks impressive,’’ said Adam, ‘‘even when it’s closed for lunch.’’

‘‘What were you expecting – a small branch in the country? I know you English don’t like to admit it but this is the centre of the banking world.’’

The bank took care of Romanov's grandfather's money for more than 50 years, each generation of bankers dutifully investing it in the best interest of their client or his heirs:

‘‘I think you will find that we have carried out your grandfather’s instructions in maintaining a conservative portfolio of investments with his funds.’’ Bischoff leaned across and pointed to a figure showing that the bank had achieved an average increase of 6.7 per cent per annum over the previous forty-nine years.

‘‘What does this figure at the foot of the page represent?’’ asked Romanov.

‘‘The total value of your stocks, bonds and cash at nine o’clock this morning. It has been updated every Monday since your grandfather opened an account with this bank in 1916.’’ The old man looked up proudly at the three pictures on the wall. [the portraits of his father and grandfather who managed the bank before him]

One area where some creative license was applied is the safe deposit vault. In the Zurich bank the banker fetches the deposit boxes and 'unlocks' them in front of the client. Well, the actual metallic deposit box never has a lock, only sometimes a small padlock. The actual two-keyed lock is on the box's door in the vault.  In the Geneva bank two directors use keys to open the main vault door to let the client in, then unlock the bank locks on the safe deposit boxes and leave the client in the vault to open his boxes and inspect the contents. Usually in Swiss banks the safe deposit vault's main door is opened in the morning and closed at night. Such doors invariably have codes and no keys. The bank's lock on the safe deposit box doors themselves can usually be unlocked only by simultaneous use of the client key, to avoid the risk of having half locked boxes. These are very small inaccuracies and does not diminish the great quality of the book's rendering of Swiss banks.

They travelled down in the chairman’s private lift all the way to the basement.

When the doors opened Romanov might have thought they had entered a jail had the bars not been made of highly polished steel. A man who was seated behind a desk on the far side of the bars jumped up the moment he saw the chairman and turned the lock on the steel door with a long-shafted key. Romanov followed Herr Bischoff through the open door then waited until they were both locked inside. The guard preceded them down a corridor, not unlike that of a wine cellar with temperature and humidity gauges every few yards. The light was barely bright enough to ensure that they did not lose their footing. At the end of the corridor, they found Herr Bischoff’s son waiting in front of a vast circular steel door. The old man nodded and the younger Herr Bischoff placed a key in a lock and turned it. Then the chairman stepped forward and undid a second lock. Father and son pushed open the nine inch thick door but neither made any attempt to enter the vault.

‘‘You are in possession of five boxes. Numbers 1721, 1722, 1723, 1724…’’

‘‘And 1725, no doubt,’’ interrupted Romanov.

‘‘Precisely,’’ said Herr Bischoff, as he removed a small package from his pocket and added, ‘‘This is your envelope and the key inside it will open all five boxes.’’ Romanov took the envelope and turned towards the open cavern. ‘‘But we must open the bank’s lock first before you proceed,’’ said Herr Bischoff. ‘‘Will you be kind enough to follow us?’’ Romanov nodded and both Herr Bischoffs proceeded into the vault. Romanov ducked his head and stepped in after them. Young Mr Bischoff opened the upper lock of the five boxes, three small ones above two large ones, making a perfect cube.

Romanov waited impatiently for the vast door to close behind him. Once alone in the Aladdin’s cave he looked around the room and estimated there must have been two or three thousand boxes filling the four walls, giving them the appearance of a library of safes. He suspected there was more private wealth in that one vault than most countries on earth could call on.

Once the Russian has inspected his grandfather's deposit boxes at Roget & Cie, he wants to use the boxes to deposit a rather unique item. The bank will not know what the item is but the Russian client has specific questions:

‘‘I do hope you found every to your satisfaction.’’

‘‘Entirely,’’ said Romanov. ‘‘But what happens if I am unable to return for some considerable time?’’

‘‘It’s of no importance,’’ Herr Bischoff replied. ‘‘The boxes will not be touched again until you come back, and as they are all hermetically sealed your possessions will remain in perfect condition.’’

‘‘What temperature are the boxes kept at?’’

‘‘Ten degrees Celsius,’’ said Herr Bischoff, some what puzzled by the question.

‘‘Are they airtight?’’

‘‘Certainly,’’ replied the banker. ‘‘And watertight, not that the basement has ever been flooded,’’ he added quite seriously.

‘‘So anything left in them is totally safe from any investigation?’’

‘‘You are only the third person to look inside those boxes in fifty years,’’ came back the firm response.

Could there be safe deposit boxes in Swiss banks left unopened since the second world war? Well, when the book was written it was quite possible. If there were funds on the account to pay for the rental of the deposit box, there is no reason why it should call in a notary public to witness the forced opening of the box and inventory its contents. In any case, the contents are the property of the depositor or his heirs, so there was no incentive for the bank to do so. Of course laws have changed in the 2000's and now the bank must investigate the client's whereabouts 10 years at most after his last contact with the bank.

A very minor inconsistency happens when the senior partner of the fictive Geneva bank Roget & Cie is referred to as the 'chairman'. Either the bank is run by 'private bankers' and thus is an unlimited partnership, or it is another type of company and cannot be called 'Roget & Cie'. Everything else in the book suggests this bank is a parternship, and there can be no 'chairman', only 'partners'.

This is a very good book based on sound research that gives a rather realistic view of Swiss banks.