Tears everywhere

It's been an unhappy day in my family.

I got home to find my elder daughter in tears because Britney Spears had shaved her head. She's threatening to do the same "in solidarity".

My son had managed to burn his little sister with candle wax, making both of them cry.

My wife was in a fury because she'd taken the children into London for a half-term Natural History museum outing, and she wasn't aware that the congestion charge now applied to K&C. Believing entry without prior payment meant an automatic fine of hundreds of pounds, she took it out on the children when she discovered her mistake. Then she decided - now she was "in the zone" - to make the most of it and visit me at work.

This is generally a bad idea anyway, but today it was hopeless. Most considerately, she turned up at lunchtime, not realising that 12-2 is often my peak slot. Never more than today, when I had three investment banker clients all wanting to talk tactics against the event that Peter Hain's insane suggestion (city firms should give away two thirds of their bonus pots to charity) ever becomes more than wishful thinking. I don't think this is likely, but there's not much any of us can do if Labour go down that route. "Emigrate" will be my professional recommendation.

Anyway, these three bankers all wanted to see me in their lunch break, meaning mine disappeared into back-to-back meetings, complicated by the fact that we couldn't let any of them spot each other near my office. By chance, all three work for the same firm - we really can't let them know they also share a private banker.

When my wife finally got the message that I wasn't able to see her for an hour and a half, she shouted at the children again and raced back home. (She doesn't normally raise her voice - the CC fine spectre had a powerful effect on her) My attempts to soothe matters this evening were not successful. I explained that the congestion charge can be paid after the event, even did it for her, but this had the opposite result to the one I expected. Instead of saying, "oh that's all right then," she too started crying, and yelled at me, "so I shouted at the children for NO REASON!".

I suppose it's all my fault somehow or other. I'm taking refuge in my study until her sleeping pill kicks in.

Postscript: Is it true that Citi Private Banking is piling back into Japan? Brave souls after last time...

Swift Leaks

It's rare for a private banker to feel like the world revolves around him. We do too much scurrying after clients to suffer that illusion. But just occasionally a warm sensation comes over one as it becomes clear that it is the client who has done the scurrying. This being a very straightforward money-measured business, the richer the client the warmer the sensation.

An American client, JL, came to see me this morning. He is, let's say, a captain of industry on the East Coast, an exceedingly dignified and busy man. He keeps about thirty million dollars with us - perhaps a tenth of his total liquid wealth. I've never really established his reasons, but thirty million is a nice lump to have. My occasional suggestions that he might like to place more with us have always been met with silence. Money comes in and goes out, but the balance remains the same.

When I asked what brought him to England, he looked at me rather peculiarly and said, 'You'. Obviously. 'You've come all this way to discuss your portfolio?' But he was agitated and not in the mood to answer questions. 'This Swift thing,' he said. 'It's a disgrace.' 'Indeed, it is,' I said. 'You Europeans need more spine,' he said. 'We sure do,' I agreed. 'You should stand up to us,' he continued. 'We really should,' I nodded vigorously.

'This Swift thing', in case you're not aware, is the latest attack on privacy justified by the War on Terror. SWIFT is the Belgian financial messaging company across whose wires a large proportion of European transactions are conducted. They have an inordinate amount of information on European money flows, and they've recently been shown to be slavishly supplying the whole lot to the CIA. Pressures have been brought to bear by Washington, but still it's inexcusable and deeply worrying for several of my clients.

Not that I'd expected it to be a problem for JL.

'I have a problem,' he said. 'Oh?' I said. 'Some of my transfers,' he said. 'I would hate for them to be seen by my government.' 'Oh,' I said.

I've always hated this bit, although there's also an undeniable morbid fascination to a client's sudden confession. Everyone, even the most unlikely people, seem to have skeletons.

'Look, it's much better not to tell me if the money's coming from some unconventional source.' We have these neat little words that make 'illegal' sound so much more palatable. They trip off the tongue so easily after a few years in this job.

'The source is fine,' he said, 'It's where it's going.' 'Oh,' I said. 'Senators,' he said. 'Oh dear,' I said. 'Right,' he said.

So that's his little secret. The reason we enjoy his business. A neat little offshore operation to [excised in a moment of paranoia brought on by the FT]. Well, there are various solutions, most of which involve getting his funds even further offshore - to a handy Pacific Island perhaps. The challenge now is to convince him we can still handle it. We're actually very good at establishing concealed trusts in far-off hot places, so I'm hopeful we'll keep the business. There's not a lot I can do about his transactions to date though. Fingers crossed the US Treasury and the CIA have more important things to look for.