- •It was Alex Vandervoort who said, “We`re obviously here to celebrate.” He motioned with his sherry glass. “The question is - what?”
- •In the center of this last area, a new large building and the steelwork of a second stood out against the skyline.
- •It was while they were having coffee that a waitress brought a message to their table.
- •It was from Juanita Nunez`s cash drawer that the money was missing.
- •It was then that Tottenhoe had telephoned Edwina.
- •In due course Mr. Rosselli, for whom counsel appeared in court, was fined heavily for reckless driving and awarded three demerit points, to be recorded on his license. He was exceedingly angry.
- •It was obvious he meant it and the banker snapped, "I don't respond to threats."
- •Vandervoort said, "I see the difference, though I wouldn't have without the glass. How do the counterfeits look under ultraviolet?"
- •Vandervoort whistled softly. A single plastic sheet would produce sixty-six Keycharge credit cards. That meant, potentially, almost twenty thousand fraudulent cards.
- •Vandervoort looked surprised. "You think you can get someone?"
- •Vandervoort said drily, "We prefer to speak of it in percentages. That way it doesn't sound as much, and the directors don't get alarmed."
- •In other circumstances, she realized, she might not have believed herself.
- •In one way it was her memory which had added to her troubles.
- •It was a three-block walk from the bus to the nursery school where she had left Estela this morning on her way to work. Juanita hurried, knowing she was late.
- •It was obvious from the stillness that the other children were all gone.
- •It had been a month and a half since Alex had seen Celia and, though he had been expecting some deterioration, her present appearance chilled him.
- •It was during that time - the thought of it shamed him now - he had suggested they divorce. Celia had seemed shattered and he let the subject drop, hoping things would get better, but they hadn't.
- •It was close to midnight. A log fire, blazing earlier, had burned low in the hearth of the snug room in the small, sumptuous bachelor suite.
- •If not Nunez, who?
- •It was like pricking a bubble. The audit chief flushed crimson as he admitted, "Yes, it is. But even we miss things occasionally when a thief has covered his tracks well."
- •Innes grunted understanding. "If you could show that, any reasonable judge would send him straight to jail. But can you?"
- •Innes glanced toward his colleague who shrugged.
- •If the phone had been answered, Wainwright would have made an excuse about a wrong number and revised his plans. As it was, he now headed for his car, parked in the headquarters' basement garage.
- •Immediately ahead was an elevator which he ignored. He saw a stairway to the right and went up it, two stairs at a time, to the second floor.
- •In the end he compromised. Instead of arresting and charging Wainwright he took him, the same night, to the police gym and, in Bufflehead's own words, "beat the b' jesus out of him" in a boxing ring.
- •It was possible that the security chief dozed off, but a key inserted in the apartment lock alerted him. Cautiously he sat up. His illuminated watch dial showed it was shortly after midnight.
- •In the row ahead of Alex were Jerome Patterton, the vice-chairman, and his wife.
- •It was the director with the longest service, the Honorable Harold Austin, who announced the board's decision.
- •It was like a fencing match with shadows. He said in exasperation, "I'll never understand you."
- •It was the second such offer she had had in the past few days. "Maybe."
It was while they were having coffee that a waitress brought a message to their table.
“Mrs. O`Dorsey,” the girl said, “Mr. Tottenhoe is 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.
Chapter 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 Nunez.
It was from Juanita Nunez`s cash drawer that the money was missing.
A half hour had elapsed since Edwina`s return to the main branch. Now, as the others faced her across the desk, Edwina 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 officer 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 two stations away from Juanita Nunez, 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. Nunez 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-fiveminute 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?
Edwina nodded. The same question had already occurred to her.
Without being obvious, Edwina studied the young woman. She was small, slight, dark, not really pretty but provocative in an elfin way. She looked Puerto Rican, which she was, and had a pronounced accent. She had said little so far, responding only briefly when spoken to.
It was hard to be sure just what Juanita Nunez's attitude was. It was certainly not cooperative, at least outwardly, Edwina thought, and the girl had volunteered no information other than her original statement. Since they started, the teller's facial expression had seemed either sulky or hostile. Occasionally her attention wandered, as if she were bored and regarded the proceedings as a waste of time. But she was nervous, too, and betrayed it by her clasped hands and continuous turning of a thin gold wedding band.
Edwina D'Orsey knew, because she had glanced at an employment record on her desk, that Juanita Nunez was twenty-five, married but separated, with a three-year-old child. She had worked for First Mercantile American for almost two years, all of that time in her present job. What wasn't in the employment record, but Edwina remembered hearing, was that the Nunez girl supported her child alone and had been, perhaps still was, in financial difficulties because of debts left by the husband who deserted her.
Despite his doubts that Mrs. Nunez could possibly know how much money was missing, Tottenhoe continued, he had relieved her from duty at the counter, after which she was immediately "locked up with her cash."
Being "locked up" was actually a protection for the employee concerned and was also standard procedure in a problem of this kind. It simply meant that the teller was placed alone in a small, closed office, along with her cash box and a calculator, and told to balance all transactions for the day.
Tottenhoe waited outside.
Soon afterward she called the operations officer in. Her cash did not balance, she informed him. It was six thousand dollars short.
Tottenhoe summoned Miles Eastin and together they ran a second check while Juanita Nunez watched. They found her report to be correct. Without doubt there was cash missing, and precisely the amount she had stated all along.