Arthur Hailey - The Moneychangers

"Not very. And pseudo indeed. But the fact is, cryonics groups have a big following and they've convinced Gosburne and his wife that when medical science is more advanced say fifty or a hundred years from now Andrea can be thawed out, brought back to life and cured. Incidentally, the cryonics people have a motto: Freeze wait reanimate." "Horrible," Edwina said.

The loan of ficer conceded, "Mostly I agree with you. But look at it their way. They believe. Also they're adult, reasonably intelligent people, deeply religious. So who are we, as bankers, to be judge and jury? As I see it, the only question is: Can Gosburne repay the loan? I've gone over the figures, and I say he can and will. The guy may be a nut. But the record shows he's a nut who pays his bills."

Reluctantly Edwina studied the income and expenses figures. "It will be a terrible financial strain."

"The man knows that but insists he can handle it. He's taking on some spare time work. And his wife is looking for a job." Eldwina said, "They have four younger children." "Yes."

"Has anyone pointed out that the other children the living will need money soon for college, other things, and that twenty-five thousand dollars could be put to better use for them?"

"I did`" Castleman said. "I've had two long interviews with Gosburne. But according to him, the whole family talked that over and they made their decision. They believe the sacrifices they'll have to make will be worth the chance of bringing Andrea back to life some day. The children also say that when they're older they'll take over responsibility for her body."

"Oh Godl" Again E dwina?s thoughts went back to yesterday. Ben Rosselli's death, whenever it ca me, would be dignified. This mad e death ugly and a mockery. Should the bank's money in part, Ben's be used for such a purpose?

"Mrs. D'Orsey," the loan officer said, "I've had this on my desk for two days. My first feeling was the same as yours the whole thing's sick. But I've thought about it and I've come around. In my opinion, it's an acceptable risk."

Acceptable risk. Essentially, Edwina realized, Cliff Castleman was right because acceptable risks were what banking was all about. He was also right in asserting that in most personal matters a bank should not be judge and j ury.

Of course, this particular risk might not work out, though even if it failed to, Castleman would not be blamed. His record was good, his "wins" far greater than his losses. In fact, a perfect win record was frowned on, a busy retail loan officer expected, almost obligated, to have a few of his loans turn sou r. If he didn't, he could be in trouble in reverse when a computer printout warned management he was losing business through excessive caution.

"All right," Edwina said. "The idea appalls me but I'll back your judgment." She scribbled an initial. Castleman returned to his desk.

Thus apart from a loan for a frozen daughter this day had begun like any other. It stayed that way until early afternoon.

On days when she lunched alone, Edwina used the basement cafeteria over at FMA Headquarters. The cafeteria was noisy, the food only so-so, but service was brisk and she could be in and out in fifteen minutes.

Today, however, she had a client as a guest and exercised her vice-president's privilege by taking him to the senior officers' private dining room, high in the executive tower. He was the treasurer of the city's largest department store and needed a three million dollar short-term loan to cover a cash deficit resulting from light fall sales plus costlier-than-usual purchases of Christmas merchandise.

"This goddamned inflation!" the treasurer complained over a spinach souffle. Then licking his lips, he added, "But we'll get our money back this next two months, and then some. Santa Claus is always good to us."

The department store account was an important one; nevertheless Edwina drove a tough bargain, with terms favorable to the bank. After some grumbling by the customer, these were agreed by the time they reached Peach Melba for dessert. The three million dollars exceeded Edwina's personal authority, though she anticipated no trouble getting approval from Headquarters. If necessary, for speed's sake, she would talk with Alex Vandervoort who had backed up her judgments in the past.

It was while they wer e having coffee that a waitress brought a message to their table.

"Mrs. D'Orsey," t he girl said, "a Mr. Tottenhoe on the phone for you. He says it's urgent."

Edwina excused herself and went to a telephone in an annex.

The voice of her branch operations officer complained, "I've been trying to locate you." "Now you have' What is it?"

"We have a serious cash shortage." He went on to explain: A teller had reported the loss a half hour ago. Checking had been going on continuously since. Edwina sensed panic as well as gloom in Tottenhoe's voice and asked how much money was involved. She heard him swallow. "Six thousand dollars." "I'll be down right away."

Within less than a minute, after apologizing to her guest, she was in the express elevator en route to the main floor.

5

"As far as I can see," Tottenhoe said morosely, "the only thing all of us know for certain is that six thousand dollars in cash is not where it should be."

The operations officer was one of four people seated around Edwina D'Orsey's desk. The others were Edwina; young Miles Eastin, Tottenhoe's assistant; and a teller named Juanita Nutiez.

It was from Juanita Ntinez's cash drawer that the money was missing.

A half hour had elapsed since Edwina's return to the main branch. Now, as the other -faced her across the desk, Edw ina answered Tottenhoe. "What you say is true, but we can do better. I want us to go over everything again, slowly and carefully."

The time was shortly after 3 P.M. Customers had gone. The outer doors were closed.

Activity, as usual, was continuing in the branch, though Edwina was conscious of covert glances toward the platform from other employees who knew by now that something serious was wrong.

She reminded herself that it was essential to remain calm, analytical, to consider every fragment of information. She wanted to listen carefully to nuances of speech and attitude, particularly those of Mrs. Nunez.

Edwina was aware, too, that very soon she must notify head office of the apparent heavy cash loss, after which Headquarters Security would become involved, and probably the FBI. But while there was still a chance of finding a solution quietly, without bringing up the heavy artillery, she intended to try.

"If you like, Mrs. D'Orsey," Miles Eastin said, "I'll start because I was the first one Juanita reported to." He had shed his usual breeziness. Edwina nodded approval.

The possibility of a cash shortage, Eastin informed the group, first came to his attention a few minutes before 2 P.M. At that time Juanita Nunez approached him and stated her belief that six thousand dollars was missing from her cash drawer.

Miles Eastin was working a teller's position himself, filling in as he had through most of the day because of the shortage of tellers. In fact, Eastin was only tw o stations away from Juanita Nun ez, and she reported to him there, locking her cash box before she did so.

Eastin had then locked his own cash box and gone to Tottenhoe. Gloomier than usual, Tottenhoe took up the story.

He had gone to Mrs. Nu nez at once and talked with her. At first he hadn't believed that as much as six thousand dollars could be missing because even if she suspected some money had gone, it was virtually impossible at that point to know how much.

The operations officer pointed out: Juanita Nunez had been working all day, having started with slightly more than ten thousand dollars cash from-vault in the morning, and she had been taking in and paying out money since 9 A.M. when the bank opened. That meant she had been working for almost five hours, except for a forty-five-minute lunch break, and during that time the bank was crowded, with all tellers busy. Furthermore, cash deposits today had been heavier than usual; therefore the amount of money in her drawer not including checks could have increased to twenty or twenty-five thousand dollars. So how, Tottenhoe reasoned, could Mrs. Nunez be certain not only that money was missing but know the amount so specifically?