Every Second

20

Roseoak Park, New York

Charles McGarridge’s small eyes were taut with worry behind his dark-framed glasses.

He was a short, balding man in his late forties with a thin moustache and a tailored suit-the bank’s senior loan officer. Tilden and Varner were interviewing him in his office.

“What time did I get here?” McGarridge said, repeating the detectives’ question. He smelled of cigarettes, and he rotated the small bowl of peppermints on his desk. The two investigators had declined his offer to share them. “I got here a little before ten, maybe around nine-thirty. It was after it happened. The police were already here talking to Annie and Jo.”

“You’ve worked with Dan Fulton for five years?” Varner asked.

“That’s correct.”

“Was he under any stress that you knew of, maybe acting strangely in the time leading up to this incident?”

“No, nothing like that.”

“So you would consider this behavior out of character?”

“Absolutely. Managers don’t usually rob their own banks.” McGarridge shook his head. “I can’t believe this is happening. I mean, bomb vests! This is crazy.”

Tilden leaned forward.

“Mr. McGarridge, we need to move fast on this and we need your help.”

“Of course, of course.”

“Has anything happened recently that might indicate who could be behind this? Anything suspicious? Anything unusual?”

McGarridge’s jaw muscle pulsated and he licked his lips, suggesting to both Tilden and Varner that something was troubling the loan officer.

“Anything at all that you can recall?” Tilden nudged him.

“Well, there’s one client…” McGarridge stopped as if to ask himself if he should proceed.

“Mr. McGarridge, we don’t have a lot of time,” Tilden said.

“There’s one client whose past behavior disturbs me-you know, in light of what’s happened.” McGarridge realigned his stapler and penholder, then rubbed his chin. “I, uh…don’t want them to know this came from me.”

“It’ll stay confidential. Now, who’s the client?” Tilden asked.

“Vitori Bazerinni.”

“And what exactly has you disturbed?”

“He owns Bazerinni Trucking and it’s the loan he’s taken out that concerns me-an eight-hundred-thousand-dollar business loan.”

“What about it?” Tilden asked.

McGarridge hesitated, then rubbed his lips.

“About five or six months ago his son, Luca Bazerinni, a vice president of the company, stormed into the branch, claiming we’d misled Bazerinni Trucking on the terms of the loan.”

“Was that the case?” Varner asked.

“Absolutely not. Mr. Bazerinni and his family had misunderstood the terms of the loan.”

“How’s this relevant to what’s happening now?” Tilden asked.

“Bazerinni Trucking was losing income. Several business accounts were consistently overdrawn. They were having difficulties with suppliers and subcontractors. They wanted loan modifications. In fact, they said they’d been guaranteed a loan modification, which was absolutely not the case for the type of loan and interest rates they’d secured. The terms were very strict for that type of loan.”

“So, what happened?” Tilden asked.

“We explained this to Luca Bazerinni and he got very upset.”

“Upset how?” Tilden asked.

“He threatened the bank.”

“With what?”

“When he left I remember exactly what he said. It was, ‘Do you know who you’re talking to? You mothers better watch your back, ’cause one day you’re gonna regret this!’”

Tilden and Varner exchanged looks.

“Was Dan Fulton party to this?”

“No, Dan never knew. I was handling this with Martin Green, a junior loan officer, who’s since moved to Seattle.”

“Why didn’t you tell Dan?”

McGarridge blinked several times and stared off.

“Mr. McGarridge, that’s a serious threat you received. Why didn’t you report it?”

McGarridge pulled off his glasses and rubbed his eyes. “I was Martin’s supervisor. I knew Martin had a penchant for ‘overselling’ the loan terms, implying the bank could, or would, do better than what was on paper, and I’d cautioned him many times on that. There are regulations and laws. But in this case, I’d convinced myself that this was just a matter of Luca Bazerinni blowing off steam because the company was losing money.”

Tilden and Varner let a moment pass. They knew there was more.

“What’s the truth, here?” Tilden asked.

McGarridge’s hands started shaking.

“Nothing happened after that with Bazerinni, so I thought everything was okay. All water under the bridge.” His chin trembled. “But the truth? The truth was I was due to be reviewed for a bonus, and this case would’ve ruined that. And now-now after what’s happened… If Dan and his family are… This could all be my fault! I’m-they’ve got a nine-year-old son… Please, you have to find them! Please.”