The Schirmer Inheritance

The old man shrugged impatiently. “Of course, if it had got to the point where they had a real chance of substantiating their Schneider claim, we’d have had to. But, as it was, it was better not to show our hand. They’d already produced a phony Schneider. What was to stop them producing a phony Johann Schirmer? Supposing they’d discovered that Johann and Ilse were dead and without heirs! Do you think they’d have admitted it? Besides, we didn’t expect the war to last more than a month or two; we were thinking all the time that at any moment one of us would be able to go back to Germany and clear the whole matter up in a proper way and to our own satisfaction. Then, of course, Pearl Harbor came and that was the end of the thing as far as we were concerned.”

Mr. Moreton sank back on his cushions and closed his eyes. He had had his fun. Now he was tired.

George was silent. Out of the corner of his eye he could see the second Mrs. Moreton hovering in the background. He got to his feet. “There’s only one thing I’m not clear about, sir,” he said hesitantly.

“Yes, my boy?”

“You said that when you handed over to Mr. Sistrom in ’44 you didn’t want these facts to come to his attention. Why was that?”

Slowly Mr. Moreton opened his eyes. “Early in ’44,” he said, “my son was murdered by the S.S. after escaping from a prisoner-of-war camp in Germany. My wife wasn’t too well at the time and the shock killed her. When the time came to hand the administration over, I guess I just couldn’t accept the idea of a German getting anything out of this country as a result of my efforts.”

“I see.”

“Not professional,” the old man added disapprovingly. “Not ethical. But that’s the way I felt. Now-” he shrugged and his eyes were suddenly amused again-“now all I’m wondering is what Harry Budd’s going to say when you tell him the news.”

“I’ve been wondering the same thing myself,” said George.

Mr. Budd said: “Oh my God!” with great force and asked his secretary to see if Mr. Sistrom was available for consultation.

John J. Sistrom was the most senior partner in the firm (Lavater and Powell had been dead for years) and had been well thought of by the elder J. P. Morgan. A remote, portentous figure who entered and left his office by a private door, he was rarely seen except by other senior partners. George had been presented to him on joining the firm and received a perfunctory handshake. He was very old, much older than Mr. Moreton, but skinny and spry-an energetic bag of bones. He fidgeted with a gold pencil while he listened to Mr. Budd’s disgusted explanation of the position.

“I see,” he said at last. “Well, Harry, what do you want me to do? Retain someone else, I suppose.”

“Yes, John J. I thought that someone like Lieberman might be interested.”

“Maybe he would. What’s the exact value of the estate now?”

Mr. Budd looked at George.

“Four million three hundred thousand, sir,” George said.

Mr. Sistrom pursed his lips. “Let’s see. Federal tax will account for quite a bit. Then, the thing has been held up for over seven years, so the 1943 legislation applies. That means eighty per cent of what’s left to the Commonwealth.”

“If a claimant were to get half a million out of it, he’d be lucky,” said Mr. Budd.

“Half a million free of tax is a lot of money these days, Harry.”

Mr. Budd laughed. Mr. Sistrom turned to George. “What’s your opinion of this Johann Schirmer’s claim, young man?” he asked.

“On the face of it, sir, the claim looks sound to me. A big point in its favour would seem to be the fact that although the intestacy itself comes under the 1917 act, this Schirmer claim would satisfy the tougher provisions of the ’47 act. There’s no question of representation. Friedrich Schirmer was a first cousin and he survived the old lady.”

Mr. Sistrom nodded. “You agree with that, Harry?”

“Oh, sure. I think Lieberman will be glad to act.”

“Funny things, some of these old inheritances cases,” mused Mr. Sistrom absently. “They make perspectives. A German Dragoon of Napoleon’s time deserts after a battle and has to change his name. Now here we sit, over a hundred years later and four thousand miles away, wondering how to deal with a situation arising out of that old fact.” He smiled vaguely. “It’s an interesting case. You see, we could argue that Friedrich inherited the estate prior to the appointment of the Alien Property Custodian and that it should therefore have descended to Johann Schirmer under the German law. There have been one or two cases of German-Swiss claims against the Custodian which have succeeded. There are all sorts of possibilities.”

“And won’t the papers have fun when they get hold of them!” said Mr. Budd.