A friend called in yesterday. He told me a story which I must share with you.
A very wealthy antique dealer, he lives on a three acre property with his wife. He was born and raised on a farm in Ireland, in a very large house full of antiques (Georgian silver, large and valuable paintings etc etc).
He is about 70. He has a brother, Jim, who is five years older than he is.
More than forty years ago now my friend's mother, a widow, died. My friend told Jim that he was happy to let him run the farm, while he retained a half-share in it against the day that he needed the money. Then he went off to London to work for Sothebys or Christies, I forget which.
A couple of years passed and he heard nothing from his brother so he tried to make contact with him. And drew a complete blank.
Immediately after his departure the farm had been sold, along with all of the contents of the family home, and Jim had vanished from the face of the earth with all of the income from the sale of these possessions. My friend then tried to contact the family solicitor but found that he, too, had disappeared at the same time.
Because several million pounds in today's money was at stake, numerous investigations, some of them costing a lot of money and time, were undertaken in an effort to find the two missing men. My friend's father-in-law, a former chairman of a major bank, spent a small personal fortune on the venture, but turned up nothing. All these efforts were completely without success. Neither Jim nor the solicitor has ever been seen or heard from since the proceeds from the sale of the farm, farm-house and contents were transferred into the solicitor's bank account.
So far, so bizarre. But there's more. My friend, who is childless, has for many years feared that when he dies Jim will turn up at the reading of the will to claim everything he owns, leaving his wife penniless. Much money has accordingly been expended in ensuring that my friend's will is completely watertight.
Meanwhile, we can only guess where Jim is.
* Is he in America, living under an assumed name in a great mansion in Georgia?
* Is he in South America, the hideout of bank robbers, Nazis and conmen from around the world?
* Was he murdered by his bent solicitor friend?
* Or were the two of them murdered by a third party or parties, and do they lie together now, locked in a bony embrace at the bottom of the Irish Sea, their ill-gotten gains having been long since dispersed amongst the many members of the Irish criminal fraternity?
It seems we will never know.
Full fathom five thy father lies;
Of his bones are coral made;
Those are pearls that were his eyes;
Nothing of him that doth fade,
But doth suffer a sea-change
Into something rich and strange.
Sea-nymphs hourly ring his knell:
Ding-dong.
Hark! now I hear them - Ding-dong, bell.
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