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?
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 co-operative, 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 alm ost two years, all of that time in her present job. What wasn't in the employment record, but Edwina remem bered hearing, was that the Nun ez 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 ca lculator, and told to balance all transactions for the day. Tottenhoe waited outside.
Soon afterward she carted 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. It was then that Tottenhoe had telephoned Edwina.
'That brings us back,' Ed wina said, 'to where we started . Have any fresh ideas occurred to anyone?'
Miles Eastin volunteered, 'I'd like to ask Juanita some more questions if she doesn't mind.' Edwina nodded.
'Think carefully about this, Juanita,' Eastin said. 'At any time today did you make a TX with any other teller?'
As a ll of them knew, a TX was a tell er's exchange. A teller on duty would often run short of bills or coins of one denomination and if it happened at a busy time, rather than make a trip to the cash vault, tellers helped each other by 'buying' or 'selling' cash. A TX form was used to keep a record. But occasionally, through haste or carelessness, mistakes were made, so that at the end of the business day one teller would be short on cash, the other long. It would be hard to believe, though, that such a difference could be as large as six thousand dollars. 'No,' the teller said. 'No exchanges. Not today.' Miles Eastin persisted, 'Were you aware of anyone els e on the staff, at any time today, being near your cash so they could have taken some?' 'No.'
'When you first came to me, Juanita,' Eastin said, 'and told me you thought there was some money gone, how long before that had you known about it?' 'A few minutes.'
