The knight in pinstripes

'If your distant uncle has a good spread of blue-chip shares, gilts and bonds, I see no reason why he should not be a good match for you'

Today sees the return of our agony column. Most agony columns are run by agony aunts, people for whom emotions are the only currency they can deal in. But not this agony column, which is possibly the only one in the world run by a down-to-earth, sensible investment manager, Mr Vincent Trotter.

All yours, Trotter!

From Miss Harriet Dumaine:

Dear Mr Trotter,

Please help me! I am a 19-year-old heiress who has been locked up against her will in the top room of the old turret of Watchfield Towers, a remote Victorian house! My distant Uncle Rodolphe, who is the only other occupant of the house since my distant cousin Ralph emigrated to New Zealand five years ago, has discovered that I am the rightful heir to the house unless I get married before I am 21, in which case he will inherit the house! Of course, he now wishes to get me married and, just to be on the safe side, he wishes to marry me himself! Oh, what shall I do? What shall I do? Please tell me what I should do!

Vincent Trotter, City investment manager writes:

Dear Miss Dumaine,

I shall need to know a bit more about the case before I can recommend a good financial course of action. For one thing, what sort of investment portfolio does your uncle Rodolphe have? (You call him a distant uncle. Is there such a thing as a "distant" uncle?) If he has a good spread of blue-chip shares, gilts, bonds, etc, I see no reason why he should not be a good marriage match for you, if his life insurance is in good shape.

I am not an expert on the property market, but I gather that old Victorian mansions are not very bullish at the moment. I should hang on to it if you acquire it.

From Miss Harriet Dumaine:

Dear Mr Trotter,

You do not understand! My Uncle Rodolphe (who was married to my late Aunt Chloe and is therefore not a blood relative) is becoming very pressing over the matter of my marriage to him, and says we must be wed before autumn comes. The only way I have got in touch with you is by throwing letters out of the tower room when the postman comes in the morning, so that he can pick them up and post them for me! There is no-one but you I can turn to for help!

Vincent Trotter writes:

Dear Miss Dumaine,

Do you have any details of the estate of your late Aunt Chloe, and how much of it was in the shape of equity? That might help us in this matter. I think you are needlessly upset by the prospect of marriage. Years ago, the Married Women's Property Act made it very difficult for a wife to have her own portfolio, but things are very relaxed these days. Once married, you will be fully entitled to arrange your own investment spread.

From Miss Harriet Dumaine:

Dear Mr Trotter,

You do not understand! Once married, I shall commit suicide! Thank God, that may not happen, as since I last wrote to you there has been a dramatic happening! My uncle Rodolphe announced that we would be having a visitor to stay the night, and I would be allowed to join them for supper. He was a Mr Starling, who is an inspector for the National Trust and whom Uncle Rodolphe wished to consult over the advantages of selling the old family home to the Trust.

I was duly allowed down to eat in the old hall with my uncle and this Mr Starling. To my surprise, when my uncle was out of the room, Mr Starling suddenly clutched my wrist and said: "Listen carefully. Say nothing. My name is not Starling. I am your long-lost cousin Ralph from New Zealand. I was worried because you never answered my letters. So I have come in disguise to see how you are." Then my uncle returned and he went back to his guise as Mr Starling...

Vincent Trotter writes:

Dear Miss Dumaine,

There are at present some very good investment openings in the New Zealand stock market. This under-estimated corner of the global market place...