Heads You Win

“The doorman, sir?”

“Yes, the doorman.”

While he waited for Errol to appear, Alex wrote down a list of questions on a sheet of paper. He hadn’t quite finished when there was a gentle tap on the door.

“Come in,” he said. The door opened slowly to reveal Errol silhouetted in the doorway, but he made no attempt to enter. “Come in,” Alex repeated. “Take off your hat and coat and have a seat,” he added, pointing to the chair on the other side of his desk.

Errol removed his hat, but not his coat, and sat down.

“Now, Errol, you told me earlier that you’ve worked for the bank for twelve years. That means you’re in possession of something I need desperately.” Errol looked puzzled. “Information,” said Alex. “I’m going to ask some questions that may embarrass you, but will help me do my job, so I hope you’ll feel able to assist me.” Errol sank back in his chair, not looking as if he wanted to assist the new chairman. Alex changed tack. “You also told me it was Mr. Lowell who got you your job.”

“Sure did. Lieutenant Lowell spoke at a Veterans’ Association meeting, and when he heard I’d served in Nam—”

“Which division?”

“Twenty-fifth, sir.”

“I was with the 116th.”

“Mr. Lawrence’s division.”

“Yes, that’s how we met. And, like you, it was Mr. Lowell who got me this job.”

Errol smiled for the first time. “If you served alongside Lieutenant Lowell,” he said, “I’ll do anything I can to help.”

“I’m glad to hear that because, like me, you got on well with Mr. Lowell. How about Mr. Ackroyd?”

Errol bowed his head.

“That bad?”

“I’ve opened his car door every working day for the past twelve years, and I’m still not sure if he knows my name.”

“And his secretary?” asked Alex, looking down at his list of questions.

“Miss Bowers. She left with him. But don’t worry, sir, no one will miss her.” Alex raised an eyebrow. “She was a little bit more than his secretary, if you catch my drift.” Alex remained silent. “And, frankly, no one blamed Mrs. Ackroyd when she finally divorced him.”

“Do you know Mrs. Ackroyd?”

“Not really, sir, she didn’t visit the bank that often, but when she did, she always remembered my name.”

“One final question, Errol. Did Mr. Lowell have a secretary?”

“Yes, sir, Miss Robbins. A real gem. But Mr. Ackroyd sacked her last week, after twenty years’ service.”

* * *

“Come in.”

“You asked to see me, chairman?”

“I did, Mr. Jardine. I need to see the bank’s audited accounts for the past five years.”

“Any particular version, chairman?” said Jardine, unable to resist a smirk.

“What do you mean, any particular version?”

“It’s just that Mr. Lowell preferred to be shown an abbreviated version, which I used to guide him through once a year.”