“How much you say, this money?”
“Well, I’m going to be frank with you, Sergeant. Until I was quite sure who you were, I didn’t want to make it sound too attractive. Now, you’d better know the facts. After various tax deductions, you stand to get about half a million dollars.”
“Crikey!” said Arthur, and the Sergeant swore violently in German.
“Of course, that is only if you win the case. The Commonwealth is after the money too. Obviously, they’ll try to prove that you’re an impostor and you’ll have to be able to prove that you’re not.”
The Sergeant had risen impatiently and was pouring himself another glass of wine. George went on talking without a pause.
“It shouldn’t be difficult, I think, if it’s gone about in the right way. There are all sorts of possibilities. For instance, supposing for some reason you’d had your fingerprints taken-while you were in the German army, say-why then you wouldn’t have any more to worry about. On the other hand …”
“Please!” The Sergeant held up his hand. “Please, Mr. Carey, I must think.”
“Sure,” said George. “I was being stupid. It must be quite a shock to realize that you’re a rich man. It’ll take time for you to get adjusted.”
There was silence again. The Sergeant looked at Arthur and then they both looked at Miss Kolin sitting there impassively with her notebook. They could not say what was on their minds in front of her in Greek or German. Arthur shrugged. The Sergeant sighed and sat down by George again.
“Mr. Carey,” he said, “I cannot so immediately decide what I must do. I must have time. There are so many things.”