Up the gradient, it puffed furiously, belching black smoke into the blinding whiteness of the snowy surroundings.
Igor Pavlovich Radiorksy’s death in a car accident on a Moscow road marks an ominous start for Peter (Petya) Cuthbert as Head of Operations of Goldberg Bank’s Russian subsidiary. Quickly, he discovers that the computer problems at the bank run deep and perhaps Radiorksy’s death was not accidental. Things are compounded when the head of the payments section is found dead. And are the newly promoted chairman, a young Kazakh and the ravishing Tatiana Sholokova all they appear to be? Pressure from headquarters in New York and demands from a major client mean a trip a fifteen hundred miles east of Moscow to Chelyabinsk for Peter Cuthbert and the new chairman with fateful consequences.
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Pointing his crooked finger at the old sandstone building..
I’ll always remember that day in ’66 when I walked alongside Granddad past Enrico’s flashy new restaurant on Lexington Avenue. Pointing his crooked finger at the old sandstone building that looked like a former bank – large sandstone blocks and high windows capped by semi-circular tops, he said, ‘That was the National Bank, years ago.’
At that moment a yellow cab drew to a screeching halt and a smartly dressed lady in a furry hat carrying at least three of Bloomingdale’s new designer bags pushed past us and lowered her head as she opened the back door of the taxi without any excuse or anything. ‘Bloody rude,’ I remember Granddad said.
‘It was different then, years ago,’ Granddad continued, ‘none of your flashy colours, flared trousers or fur hats in October. It was all grey and caps or bowler hats for men and cloche hats for women. And trams.’ Continue reading “Embarrassing”