Heads You Win

“I didn’t leave the bank,” said Jake, “I was fired.”

“Can I ask why?”

“I felt someone had to inform the chairman that his sister’s gambling habit had got out of control, and that if she was allowed to go on borrowing indiscriminately, the bank would surely go bust.”

“How did Ackroyd respond?” said Alex as two sizzling pizzas were placed in front of them.

“Told me to mind my own business if I knew what was good for me.”

“And you clearly didn’t.”

“No. I warned Ackroyd that if he didn’t inform the chairman of what was going on behind his back, then I would. Which was as good as signing my own death warrant, because I was fired the next day.”

“And did you tell Lawrence the truth?”

“I wrote to him immediately,” said Jake, “even set up an appointment to see him. But he asked if it could wait until after the election, and as that was only a few weeks away, I readily agreed.”

“And you haven’t been able to find a suitable position since?”

“No. At least not at the same level I had at Lowell’s. Ackroyd made sure of that.”

“I’m surprised he still has that sort of influence in banking circles.”

“He has enemies, that’s for sure, but whenever I applied for a job, the first person they’d contact was the CEO of the last bank I’d worked for.”

Alex could almost hear Ackroyd whispering confidentially: Between you and me, the man can’t be trusted. The one word in banking that would have closed every door.

“So, if I were to offer you a job, would you consider coming back?”

“No. At least not while Ackroyd is still on the board. I don’t need to be sacked twice.”

“But if Ackroyd were to resign?”

“Wild horses won’t move him while he still has a majority on the board, and while Evelyn owns fifty percent of the stock, what’s the point?”

“You may well be right,” said Alex, “because I can’t pretend that my own position is all that secure. And even if that were to change, I still can’t guarantee the bank will survive. However, I am convinced that if you were to climb back on board, we’d have a lot better chance.”

“What makes you so confident of that, when you don’t even know me?”

“But I do know Bob Underwood, and Pamela Robbins, and if those two are willing to vouch for you, that’s good enough for me.”

“That is indeed a compliment. So if you are able to get rid of Ackroyd and his cronies, I will be happy to continue in my old job as the bank’s financial officer.”

“That wasn’t what I had in mind,” said Alex. Jake looked disappointed. “I was rather hoping you’d be willing to take over Ackroyd’s position, and return to Lowell’s as the chief executive.”

* * *

“Good morning, gentlemen,” said Alex, looking around the table to see only one unoccupied chair. “I will ask Mr. Fowler to read the minutes of the last meeting.”

The company secretary rose from his place and opened the minute book. “The board met on March eighteenth,” he began, “and among the matters discussed…”

Alex’s mind drifted back to the hastily called meeting held in Harbottle’s office the previous evening that had lasted until the early hours of the morning. They had both come to the reluctant conclusion that the numbers were stacked against him, well aware that Evelyn was in Boston. He glanced at the empty chair. But if Evelyn didn’t turn up, he might still be in with a chance.

By the time Alex had arrived home, Anna was fast asleep. He decided not to wake her and burden her with his news. He placed a hand on his future son or daughter, a little mound of would-be-life keen to get out and join the world. He climbed into bed, desperate for sleep, but his mind didn’t rest, even for a moment, like a convicted murderer the night before being strapped into the electric chair.

He snapped back into the real world when Fowler said, “That concludes the minutes of the last meeting. Are there any questions?”

Still no sign of Evelyn.