In a dark and dusty law office in deepest Valletta a Maltese MP is furtively telephoning his bank in far-off Zurich.

“Oh hello, is that Zurich 479162?”

“Oui.”

“Ah, then could I speak to – ”

“Parlez vous Français?”

“Erm no, ’fraid not... at least not very well. At school we had a choice, so I went for netball instead. Got a straight A as – ”

“’Old de laine.”

“’Allo.”

“Oh hullo, is that... ?”

“HSBC ’ere... What can I do for you?”

“Ah, right. Yes, I am calling from Malta – ”

“From who?”

“No, from where... er, from Malta, and I have an account with your bank at this branch.”

“Uhu, so ’oo are you?”

“Erm, well... it’s a little delicate but... erm I was wondering, in the light of recent um, revelations, erm... if my name featured anywhere on that list of your Maltese clients that, um... seems to have fallen into the hands of the Maltese authorities and some of the media, erm... ?”

“’Ow can I say eef I dunno your name?”

“Yes, right, of course. It is (mumble, mumble).”

“Comment?”

“It is Doctor James Parascandallo Grech erm... ”

“Pardon?”

“Oh shi – Doctor James Parascandallo Grech... MP.”

“MP? Oh right... and from Malta you say, oui we’ve had quite a few of them on the phone lately.”

“Really?”

“Yes... probablement one of les periodic witch-hunts that governments various around le monde resort to when they are running short of – how you say... cash, or they want to get back at their political opponents.”

(Gulp) “So... am I on it?”

We have a system here in Malta by which all we MPs are obliged to make a public declaration of our assets

“On what? Oh... on thees list you spik about?”

“Yes.”

“I’ve no idea mon ami, you weell ’ave to talk to my superior. ’Ee may... or may not be able to ’elp you.”

“Your superior?”

“Herr Dumkopf, oui. Shall I put you through?”

“Yes please.”

“Bien ’old de line... Oh Rainer, I’ve, er... I’ve got some Maltese pairson on ze line. Seems ’e ees sweating on being outed... as a client of ours. Oui shall I’ll pass him on.”

“Ja!”

“Er, good morning. Your colleague tells me that you may be able to help me.”

“Vatt is ze problem?”

“Well, it’s rather... how shall I put it... tricky. See, I have an account with this bank, but I’ve neither declared it to the Maltese authorities, or even told my wife about it. Both reasons why I am hoping that said Maltese authorities and media remain ignorant of it. Do you see my problem?”

“Several times a day mein herr.”

“See, we have a system here in Malta by which all we MPs are obliged to make a public declaration of our assets... and – ”

“You haff not declared ziss account.”

“No – yes... precisely. See, as far as the Maltese tax authorities are concerned, my entire worldly wealth amounts to my parliamentary salary, plus €1,200 in BOV shares and a quarter ownership of a two-room apartment in the back streets of Buġibba.”

“Hmm. Zo how much iss it your deposit wiss us?”

“Erm... well, actually it’s about four and a half million Swiss francs.”

“Zo... small beer, as ze Englisch say. Vatt’s yo problem?”

“It may be small beer for the gnomes of Zurich, however Herr Dumkopf... it’s big potatoes for us here in little Malta.”

“So vat yo vont me to do about it?”

“Nothing illegal, of course.”

“Off kors!”

“Er, but... I’d be eternally grateful if you could see your way to ensuring that my... small beer account is not leaked to the media or anybody else.”

“Sgyoos me but... vy all off a sudden are all you Maltese politicians getting zo, zo hot untair ze colair about your Sviss bank accounts.”

“Hey, it’s not all Maltese politicians, just – ”

“Last veek just two... ziss veek I lost count.”

“So – apart from Mike and Ninu, I’m not alone?”

“Ho ho! You must be chokingk... already ziss morningk alone mein telephone she voss rinkingk off mein desk. Zo, zo many Maltese askingk ze same favour. Don’t vorry mein Herr, ve are zo zo discreet. Nobody will know vot you haff in our bank. Your moneys is safe mitt us, gutten tag!”