Tell Tale: Short Stories

“Of course,” said Barbara. “But as you well know, not a lot happens in August while so many customers are away on holiday. But I’ll give you a buzz if anything comes up.”

* * *

Arthur checked his post every morning, but it wasn’t until the sixth day that the first of the two letters landed on his desk. Arthur didn’t rest on the seventh day, now he felt confident that the Laidlaws were keeping their side of the bargain. He picked up the phone and pressed another button.

“Standing orders,” said a voice he recognized.

“Steve, it’s Arthur Dunbar. I’ve just received a letter from Mr. Macpherson, and he’s instructed the bank to raise Mr. and Mrs. Laidlaw’s monthly allowance.”

“I wish someone would do that for me,” said Steve.

“I’ll send down a copy of the letter for your files,” said Arthur, ignoring the comment. “And can you make sure that everything is in place for the September payment.”

“Of course, Mr. Dunbar.”

The second letter took a little longer to arrive, and Arthur even wondered if the Laidlaws had changed their mind, until the post boy delivered an envelope postmarked Ambrose on Monday morning, leaving him only five working days to complete the next part of his plan. But like a good Boy Scout, Arthur was well prepared.

He checked his watch. Buchan would still be at his desk for at least another couple of hours, but he needed to make an internal call before he contacted Edinburgh. He picked up the phone, pressed another button, and waited until the head of accounts came on the line.

“Have you seen a copy of the Macpherson letter, Reg, that I sent down to your office earlier this morning?”

“Yes I have,” replied Caldercroft, “and I’m sorry, Arthur, because you must be disappointed after all these years.”

“It was bound to happen at some time,” said Arthur.

“But sad that it’s just when you’re leaving. Will you get in touch with Mr. Macpherson and try to persuade him to change his mind?”

“Not much point,” said Arthur. “He hasn’t done so for the past twenty years, so why would he now?”

“I’m sure you’re right,” said Caldercroft. “But shouldn’t we wait until Stratton gets back, and see how he wants to play it?”

“I’m afraid the new banking laws don’t allow us that luxury,” said Arthur. “If a client requests to move his account, we must carry out their wishes within fourteen days, and as you can see, the letter is dated the eleventh.”

“Perhaps we should call Mr. Stratton in Miami, and alert him to the situation?”

“You call him if you want to, Reg…”

“No, no,” said Caldercroft. “You’re in charge during the manager’s absence, so what do you want me to do next?”

“Gather up all Mr. Macpherson’s bonds, stocks, and any other financial instruments, and courier them to a Mr. Buchan at RBS in Edinburgh, who appears to be the person he’s appointed to take over the account. I’m just about to phone Buchan and find out when it will be convenient to complete the transfer. I’ll keep you briefed.” He put the phone down.

Arthur took a deep breath and checked over his script one more time before he picked up the phone again and asked the switchboard operator to get him a number in Edinburgh. He waited to be put through.

“Good morning, Mr. Buchan, my name is Arthur Dunbar, and I’m the senior VP at the National Bank of Toronto.”

“Good morning, Mr. Dunbar,” said his opposite number. “I’ve been expecting your call. I had a visit from a Mr. Macpherson a couple of weeks ago, and he said you’d be in touch.”

“Indeed,” said Arthur, “although we will be sorry to lose Mr. Macpherson, a most valued client, but pleased he’ll be moving to our partner bank in Edinburgh. And to that end,” said Arthur, trying to sound pompous, “I have already given instructions to send all the necessary paperwork to you by courier, which I anticipate should be dealt with by the end of the week.”

“Thank you, said Buchan, “and when will it be convenient for you to transfer Mr. Macpherson’s current account?”

“Would Thursday morning suit you? Around this time.”

“That should be fine. I’ll make sure everything is in place to receive the funds on Thursday afternoon, and may I ask roughly how much we should be looking out for?”

“I can’t be certain of the exact figure,” said Arthur, “because I won’t know the dollar–sterling exchange rate until that morning. But it will certainly be in excess of four million pounds.”

There was no response, and Arthur even wondered if they’d been cut off. “Are you still there, Mr. Buchan?”