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* * *
Well,
one way to shed some quick light is to call British Airways. The reservations
operator asks for the code numbers on your voucher. Then:
“Would
you like to reserve your flight?”
“Who
purchased these tickets?”
She
says she has no idea since no credit card was used. Before you hang up, you
think to ask if your ticket is transferable. She puts you on hold.
“The
voucher is nontransferable,” she reports. “But you can exchange your tickets
for those of equivalent value to another destination.”
“How
about a cash refund?”
Again,
you hold.
She
returns, saying, “If you turn in your voucher, the corporate office will mail
you a check.”
You’ll
get back to them.
You
make a trip to your bank. Show the Barclays draft to the teller, who takes it
over to his manager. The teller returns and informs you that the check is good,
that it can be deposited or cashed immediately.
“Want
me to check today’s exchange rate?”
“No,
not today, thanks.”
Back
home, you place an international call to Browns Chauffeur Hire. Get the same
story as you did from British Airways: the service has been paid in advance; you
may use the voucher or cancel and apply for a refund. Oh
yes, the clerk well remembers the young lady who came in last week and made all
the arrangements. The woman herself was a chauffeur, or so she said.
“Sashayed in,
removed her helmet, and all that blonde hair fell down. Well, that was sight the
drivers went on about. Then tore off raucously on her motorcycle. … Humph!
Chauffeur indeed.”
You wonder where
this “Hanover Manor” is.
“In the North,
the Lake district, I’m told.” She says the driving directions are in a
sealed envelope on her desk.
* * *
You glance at the as-yet-unopened letter. Roughly calculate the value of the check, plus that of the travel vouchers. Amounts to well over 50,000 dollars. You might need to find out about the legalities, any taxes involved, et cetera. But still, there should be a substantial sum remaining, right? And you’ve done nothing wrong, right?Then get another bright idea.
If this Arthur Hanover really is some fabulously wealthy British lord, a scientist, an expert in genealogical matters, then he should be all over the Internet, right?
Of course.Your Web search results in a slew of links to sites solely concerned with the doings of the British nobility.
There are numerous photos. Your “uncle” looks like the elderly man he is, but still solidly built. His face is noble and wise. In some pictures his hair is long and curly—like that of an aging rocker. In others, closely cropped as he sports a moustache and a goatee. Often he’s pictured with another British noble, a Lord Dennis Rollinsby, a rotund, jolly-looking experimental physicist who is his close friend.
You certainly see nothing of yourself in his face and features. What you do see, again, is that small, disturbing envelope whose seal something prevents you from breaking just yet. Open only if you’re truly undecided.
Clicking
on Show me more like this leads you to
a site entirely devoted to the Hanover residence. In a catalogue of thumbnails
you click on to enlarge, there’s simply one spectacular, breathtaking room
after another—a blaze of gold, silver, brass, marble, wood, exquisite
fabrics and tapestries, wood carvings and furniture, antiques and artwork.
It’s an ancient mansion, but to you everything looks brand-new. The text cites
a BBC documentary that was aired just last year.A quick phone call and you find you’re in luck—a local university library has a copy.
