bout de papier, Vol. 9, No. 4 (1992) — Fall 1992 // Automne 1992, p. 52
As Liebnitz passed the doors of the Centre’s highly regarded journal, Aide mémoire, he overheard the far-from-dulcet tones of its subeditor, Rialto Sleazewagon, in mid-tirade. “And whose brainless idea was it to make Jimmy the Turk our treasurer in the first place? The Annual Meeting is tomorrow, he’s left us this pile of drivel for a financial statement, and what’s more, we don’t even know where he’s put our operating capital!”
A telephone crashed into its cradle. Looking up, Sleazewagon caught the eye of the ace logician as he lounged in the doorway. “Oh, it’s you, Ludwig. Do you know where Jimmy’s gone?” Replied Liebnitz, “He’s at the Hoople Festival of Pre-Classical Music in the Dakotas. He always did go for Baroque. But what’s your problem? I’ve had some experience with his reports.” Wordlessly, Sleazewagon handed him a tattered piece of paper.
Annual Financial Statement and Budget Projection
Item — FY 91/92 — FY 92/93
Revenue
Subscriptions — IRATE — ERECT
Advertising — PALER — ?
Block Grant — CHIP — 1918
Under the Table — 3280 — PEEL
TOTAL — ? — TRAIL
Expenditure
Graphics — HEART — BLARE
Printing — PLEBE — BRACE
Distribution — 8280 — BELT
Coffee — ABATE — 9799
TOTAL — CHART — TRILL
Surplus (Deficit) — 569 — (EAR)
Attached to the paper was a scrawled note in the Turk’s hand-writing:
a) Most of the numerical entries in this statement have been replaced by letters, the same letter replacing the same number at all times. Each entry so “encoded” forms a word. Work out the number-letter code and you will be able to reconstruct the balance sheet.
b) Two of the entries are missing. Once you have worked out the other entries, you will be able to calculate the missing ones. Encode these entries into words to learn the name of the firm that has the money. c) The ten letters used to encode the entries form the anagram for a ten-letter noun. A handful of these letters (each used only once) form the anagram for the name of a genius who has been decomposing since 1750. His name and the ten-letter noun begin with the same letter. Together the name and the noun tell you the location of the branch.
d) The letters that are not used for the name of the genius (again, each used only once) form another anagram. Use the number-letter code to change this anagram into a number. Then do what the anagram says to that number — the result is the necessary 7-digit account number.
“Clear as mud,” complained Sleazewagon. “Actually, it’s not bad for Jimmy,” replied Liebnitz. “He must be trying to give you a break. But how are we supposed to choose among all the banks in the world….” The sub-editor interrupted him. “I can help you with that. We’ve narrowed it down to five investment houses — Zudden McFreeze, Aerie Smyles, Slye Krook & Dodge, The Coldfish Group, and Lizard Peres. It’s one of those — but they have branches everywhere!”
Within a few minutes, Liebnitz had it all worked out. Can you duplicate his feat, by: (a) restoring the balance sheet to a usable form for the Annual Meeting; (b) working out the three anagrams; (c) giving the firm, branch location and number of the account where the funds are deposited?
As an urgent side matter (but not necessary for the answer), please suggest how Rialto Sleazewagon can justify a five-figure expenditure for coffee, especially given the Centre’s new Lifestyles Curtailment Program.
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Originally published in bout de papier, Vol. 9, No. 4 (1992) — Fall 1992 // Automne 1992, p. 52. Read the rest of this issue →
