“I realize that,” said Stratton, “and please don’t think I’m not sympathetic. But my hands are tied.” He looked down at the letter, clearly trying to place the blame on someone else. “I’m sure you’ll appreciate the problem I’m facing…”
“It’s me who’s facing the problem, not you,” said Arthur, bolder than he’d ever been in the past.
“And the board asked me to say,” said Stratton, “how much they appreciate the long and dedicated service you have given the bank. And I feel sure you’ll be pleased to know they have agreed that a farewell party should be thrown in your honor, along with an appropriate gift to mark your remarkable service to the National Bank of Toronto.”
“A cocktail party with crisps, peanuts, a glass of vin ordinaire, and a gold-plated watch. Thanks very much. But I’d rather have the full pension I’m entitled to.”
“And I want you to know, Arthur,” said Stratton, ignoring the outburst, “how hard I fought in your corner, but the board … well, I feel sure you know what they’re like.”
Actually Arthur didn’t have any idea what they were like. In fact if a member of the board had passed him in the street, he doubted if they would recognize him.
“But I did manage one small coup on your behalf,” continued Stratton, the same insincere smile returning to his face. “I got you a stay of execution.” And from the look on the manager’s face, he clearly regretted the words the moment he’d uttered them, but it didn’t stop him charging on. “While everyone else will have to leave by the end of the next quarter, six months at the most, you can retain your position as the senior VP for another year.”
“Just six months before I would have scraped over the line,” said Arthur with considerable feeling.
“I did the best I could given the circumstances,” insisted Stratton. “And will be writing to you in the next few days, setting out the finer details.” The manager hesitated for a moment before adding, “I was rather hoping, Arthur, I might rely on you to brief other senior colleagues of the board’s decision. You’re so good at that sort of thing.”
Arthur rose from his place with as much dignity as he could muster, and said calmly, “Go to hell, Gerald. You can do your own dirty work for a change.” He gave the manager the same ingratiating smile, and left without another word.
Once Arthur was back in his office, he swore out loud, something he hadn’t done since the Toronto Maple Leafs lost to the Montreal Canadiens during the last minute of extra time in the Stanley Cup.
He paced aimlessly around his little office for some time before he finally sat down and began to write a letter to Mr. Macpherson explaining why someone else would be handling his account in the future.
* * *
A fortnight passed, but there was no reply from Ambrose Hall. This surprised Arthur, because if there was one thing he knew about his most esteemed customer, it was that he was never less than courteous and unfailingly punctilious.
The bank’s senior VP continued to double-check his mail every morning, but there was still no response to his letter. Even more out of character, when quarter day appeared on the calendar, the usual long typewritten letter detailing Mr. Macpherson’s investment instructions and any other requirements he expected the bank to carry out during the next three months did not appear.
It was while Arthur was trying to get to sleep that the only other possibility for Mr. Macpherson’s uncharacteristic behavior crossed Arthur’s mind. He sat bolt upright and didn’t sleep that night.
Nevertheless, it was still another fortni
ght before Arthur would accept that the “only other possibility,” had become a probability. But it wasn’t until he’d opened a letter from Mr. Stratton confirming the day of his retirement and his pension details, that the first dishonest thought crossed Arthur Dunbar’s mind in twenty-eight years of service to the National Bank of Toronto.
However, Arthur was, by nature, a cautious man, so he allowed the dishonest thought to mature for a while before he even considered a provisional plan—and then only in his mind.
During the following month, he continued to clear every check that was presented in his client’s name, as well as Mr. and Mrs. Laidlaw’s monthly banker’s order deposited to their joint account at the Bank of Scotland in Ambrose. However, when a new checkbook arrived from the printers, Arthur did not send it on to Mr. Macpherson, but locked it in the top drawer of his desk.
He felt confident that would elicit an immediate response if …
Arthur kept rereading the letter that had landed on his desk. It was hand delivered by Mr. Stratton’s secretary, and was short and to the point.
It is with much regret …
Nowhere in the letter were the words “sacked” or “made redundant,” because they had been replaced with wishing him a happy retirement, and how much he was looking forward to continuing working with him for the next ten months. Arthur swore for the second time that year.
The rest of the month passed without incident, although no letter was forthcoming from Mr. Macpherson. The staff party was considered a great success by everyone except Arthur, who was the last to leave, and spent Christmas alone.
* * *
Arthur checked his calendar: January 7, and he still hadn’t received any further communication from Mr. Macpherson, although he was aware any payments would soon come to an end, because he hadn’t issued a new checkbook for the past quarter. But then Arthur was in no hurry, because he still had another nine months to work on his exit strategy, as befitted a banker who believed in the long game.
When no instructions came from Mr. Macpherson by the end of the following quarter, Arthur decided he must either be too ill to communicate, or he was dead. He considered his next move most carefully. He thought about writing to Mr. Macpherson concerning a recent dividend he’d received from the Shell Oil Company, asking if he wanted to accept payment, or to take up their offer of new shares. After considerable thought, he didn’t send the letter, as he feared it might alert Mr. and Mrs. Laidlaw to the fact that someone at the bank was becoming suspicious.
Arthur decided he would wait for the checks to run out before he made his next move, and every time a new checkbook arrived from the printers, he placed it in his top drawer along with the others.
Patience paid off, because the Laidlaws finally gave themselves away. When the last four checks were sent to be cleared, Arthur noted that the sums were becoming larger and larger, and he made a bold decision that, despite the account still having over $8 million in cash, stocks, and bonds, he would “bounce” the final check made out to Cooks Travel for a package holiday for two in Ibiza. He waited for an irate letter from Mr. Macpherson demanding an explanation, but none was forthcoming, which gave Arthur the confidence to put the second part of his plan into action.