Doc, it’s coincidental that you called me when you did. I have a situation that I’ve wanted to discuss with you and was thinking about trying to track you down.
Go ahead Bev, what’s on your mind?
First, here’s a dollar. If you accept it, as you know, you have taken a retainer and I am now your client, so anything said between us is protected by client-attorney privilege. With some surprise, Doc took the dollar and placed it in his pocket. Doc said, Tell me about this mysterious situation that you’re involved in before the lovebirds decide to join us.
Ok, it’s somewhat complicated but I’ll try to explain as best as I can. As you’ll see, for obvious reasons, I didn’t want to commit any of this to paper or to talk about it on the phone. As you know, I was born in Zimbabwe. I left there at two years of age as my family moved to Canada initially settling in northern Alberta for reasons that will become apparent as I explain. My father’s relatives had been in the diamond mining business for generations and were quite well off. We’ve had a family history of enormous wealth, mansions, expensive cars, polo ponies, and servants. My father decided to leave home and moved us to Canada as he searched for opportunities in diamond mining in the north. He was unable to take much money with him when we moved, so our lifestyle in Canada, while comfortable, was substantially more middle class than we had known in Zimbabwe. My dad and his brother inherited the family business in Zimbabwe when my grandfather passed away. It was in a mature stage and managed by my uncle, Dad’s older brother. Dad studied geology in the UK completing a bachelor’s degree at Oxford and masters at Cambridge. He then did his doctorate at MIT and some postdoctoral work at UCLA, Berkley. I think in part due to his international education, and partly because he was bored with the high life in Zimbabwe, he made an agreement with his brother, and we left for Canada. Under the terms of the agreement, dad and his brother were to be equal partners in the family business and his brother would be paid a significant annual salary for running the company. My father’s share of profits was to be banked in Zimbabwe awaiting his return. Here lies the crux of the matter. One may only take out of the country tiny amounts of money under Zimbabwean law. The rest of the profits, by far the lion’s share, had to remain in the country. My father and mother died a few years ago. Dad never did have much success in the northern Canadian mining business beyond a series of well-paying jobs. These kept us going along with the small amount that my uncle was able to send us annually. My uncle is now terminally ill himself and not expected to last very long. He sold the business to a South African mining conglomerate and now sits on an enormous amount of cash that he can’t get out of the country. As my uncle never married I’m the sole heir to this fortune, however, to enjoy it I would have to move to Zimbabwe, which I would not want to do. So here is my problem. You’re talking to a very wealthy woman with no cash or access to it. The task for you is to figure a legal way for us to get this cash out of the country.
How much cash are we talking about? Doc asked. In the neighborhood of $350 million US, Bev replied. Wow, that is quite a neighborhood, Doc said. 88