False Impression

Anna glanced up at the Monet of Argenteuil that hung on the wall behind the chairman’s desk. Although Monet had painted this peaceful riverbank scene on several occasions, this was one of the finest examples. Anna had once asked Fenston where he’d acquired the painting, but he’d been evasive, and she couldn’t find any reference to the sale among past transactions.

She looked across at Leapman, whose lean and hungry look reminded her of Cassius. It didn’t seem to matter what time of day it was, he always looked as if he needed a shave. She turned her attention to Fenston, who was certainly no Brutus, and shifted uneasily in her chair, trying not to appear fazed by the silence, which was suddenly broken, on Fenston’s nod.

“Dr. Petrescu, some distressing information has been brought to the attention of the chairman,” Leapman began. “It would appear,” he continued, “that you sent one of the bank’s private and confidential documents to a client before the chairman had been given the chance to consider its implications.”

For a moment Anna was taken by surprise, but she quickly recovered and decided to respond in kind. “If, Mr. Leapman, you are referring to my report concerning the loan to the Wentworth Estate, you are correct. I did send a copy to Lady Victoria Wentworth.”

“But the chairman was not given enough time to read that report and make a considered judgment before you forwarded it to the client,” said Leapman, looking down at some notes.

“That is not the case, Mr. Leapman. Both you and the chairman were sent copies of my report on September first, with a recommendation that Lady Victoria should be advised of her position before the next quarterly payment was due.”

“I never received the report,” said Fenston brusquely.

“And indeed,” said Anna, still looking at Leapman, “the chairman acknowledged such, when his office returned the form I attached to that report.”

“I never saw it,” repeated Fenston.

“Which he initialed,” said Anna, who opened her file, extracted the relevant form, and placed it on the desk in front of Fenston. He ignored it.

“The least you should have done was wait for my opinion,” said Fenston, “before allowing a copy of a report on such a sensitive subject to leave this office.”

Anna still couldn’t work out why they were spoiling for a fight. They weren’t even playing good cop, bad cop.

“I waited for a week, Chairman,” she replied, “during which time you made no comment on my recommendations, despite the fact that I will be flying to London this evening to keep an appointment with Lady Victoria tomorrow afternoon. However,” Anna continued before the chairman could respond, “I sent you a reminder two days later.” She opened her file again and placed a second sheet of paper on the chairman’s desk. Once again he ignored it.

“But I hadn’t read your report,” Fenston said, repeating himself, clearly unable to depart from his script.

Stay calm, girl, stay calm, Anna could hear her father whispering in her ear.

She took a deep breath before continuing. “My report does no more, and certainly no less, than advise the board, of which I am a member, that if we were to sell the Van Gogh, either privately or through one of the recognized auction houses, the amount raised would more than cover the bank’s original loan plus interest.”

“But it might not have been my intention to sell the Van Gogh,” said Fenston, now clearly straying from his script.

“You would have been left with no choice, Chairman, had that been the wish of our client.”

“But I may have come up with a better solution for dealing with the Wentworth problem.”

“If that was the case, Chairman,” said Anna evenly, “I’m only surprised you didn’t consult the head of the department concerned so that, at least as colleagues, we could have discussed any difference of opinion before I left for England tonight.”

“That is an impertinent suggestion,” said Fenston, raising his voice to a new level. “I report to no one.”

“I don’t consider it is impertinent, Chairman, to abide by the law,” said Anna calmly. “It’s no more than the bank’s legal requirement to report any alternative recommendations to their clients. As I feel sure you realize, under the new banking regulations, as proposed by the IRS and recently passed by Congress—”

“And I feel sure you realize,” said Fenston, “that your first responsibility is to me.”

“Not if I believe that an officer of the bank is breaking the law,” Anna replied, “because that’s something I am not willing to be a party to.”

“Are you trying to goad me into firing you?” shouted Fenston.

“No, but I have a feeling that you are trying to goad me into resigning,” said Anna quietly.

“Either way,” said Fenston, swiveling around in his chair and staring out of the window, “it is clear you no longer have a role to play in this bank, as you are simply not a team player—something they warned me about when you were dismissed from Sotheby’s.”

Don’t rise, thought Anna. She pursed her lips and stared at Fenston’s profile. She was about to reply when she noticed there was something different about him, and then she spotted the new earring. Vanity will surely be his downfall, she thought, as he swiveled back around and glared at her. She didn’t react.

“Chairman, as I suspect this conversation is being recorded, I would like to make one thing absolutely clear. You don’t appear to know a great deal about banking law, and you clearly know nothing about employment law, because enticing a colleague to swindle a naïve woman out of her inheritance is a criminal offence, as I feel sure Mr. Leapman, with all his experience of both sides of the law, will be happy to explain to you.”

“Get out, before I throw you out,” screamed Fenston, jumping up from his chair and towering over Anna. She rose slowly, turned her back on Fenston, and walked toward the door.