Herbie is out to lunch
Last National Bank of Boot Hill,
Moorgate, London EC2
It is maybe the low point of my career when two dozen Japanese secret policemen come marching down Moorgate and turn left into Hangmans Alley and thru the vestibule and up the stairs and burst into my office, where they bow, present me with two dozen cards and arrest me.
I am so shocked it takes me some time to figure out they are not just a reunion of the Eurotunnel Lenders club, or a team of analysts from Yamaichi looking for a sponsor, in fact I am about to offer them green tea and sympathy when the lead cop digs into his briefcase and pulls out handcuffs and makes his intentions clear.
There is just time for me to yell for our legal eagle from Murder & Might before the guy reads out a charge of offering corrupt inducements, contrary to Section Whatnot of the Imperial Japanese Penal Code, in that you attempted to suborn an official of the Bank of Japan with intent to secure his favor in the matter of the Fugu Fish Bank of Hokkaido.
This must be poor old Yasu, only the other day I see on the wires how they storm in and arrest him and throw him in the slammer, where he joins three guys from the MoF on a diet of fishheads and rice, and Governor Matsushita is so mortified, his loss of face is terminal, all that remains is to fall on his date stamp.