Stay of Execution

52

‘Why have I never heard of this bank, Stevie?’ asked Mary Chambers as they stepped from the lift into the beech-clad reception area. ‘My grandpa was a potato farmer in Lanarkshire.’

‘That’s not for me to say, Superintendent,’ Steele chuckled, ‘but I think this lot were after barley growers and big beef and dairy producers.’

‘Spuds weren’t good enough for them? Is that what you mean?’

‘I think that the founders of the Scottish Farmers Bank, and before that the Agricultural and Rural Building Society, regarded all root vegetables as beneath them. They were the posh people’s lender, until they found the competition in that sector too hot, and reinvented themselves as a business bank.’

The inspector walked up to the tartan-clad receptionist. ‘Hello again,’ he said. ‘I called earlier and spoke to Mr Easterson’s secretary. We’re expected.’

She smiled at him, brightly, professionally, and superficially, with the twinkle that reminded him of an ad for dishwasher tablets. ‘Yes, Mr Steele, I know. If you’ll give me just a second.’

She picked up a phone and dialled, then spoke briefly and in a whisper that he could not decipher. Hanging up, she pointed to the waiting area. ‘If you’ll just take a seat over there, we won’t keep you long.’

‘You’re bloody right you won’t,’ Mary Chambers muttered under her breath, as they walked towards the leather chairs and the table strewn with that day’s newspapers. ‘We’re the polis, hen.’

After only half a day with his new boss, Steele knew that they would work well together. Mary Chambers was a straight talker, and he welcomed that. He had seen that she felt awkward about raising the subject of his relationship with Maggie, but she had gone ahead anyway because she had felt it necessary; that was okay with him, since he had never beaten about too many bushes himself. There was a surprising humour about her too, bubbling beneath her plain exterior, looking for opportunities to show itself.

In fact they were kept waiting for five minutes. Steele was on the edge of annoyance, when a stocky, middle-aged man swept into the foyer and came straight towards them. ‘I’m sorry to have taken so long,’ he exclaimed, ‘but I had my chairman on the line. Unfortunately he’s not given to short conversations.’ He extended a hand to the inspector as the two detectives rose to their feet. ‘Superintendent Chambers, I take it.’

‘Does he look like a Mary?’ the new divisional CID commander asked cheerfully, managing somehow to intercept the handshake.

‘Terribly sorry,’ the man exclaimed, without convincing either of them that he actually was. ‘I’m Proc Fraser, the chief executive.’

‘I was under the impression we’d be seeing Mr Easterson,’ said Steele. ‘I made the appointment with his secretary.’

‘Yes. Indeed,’ Fraser muttered. ‘Come along to my office and I’ll explain.’

You don’t bloody have to, thought the inspector. It took her even less time than I thought.

He stayed silent, though, as they were led along the narrow corridor, and shown into an office, larger than that of the absent GMCB and more expensively furnished, although still stopping short of opulence. There was a jug of coffee on the meeting table, and three china cups; Mary Chambers wondered if he would ask her to pour, but he did that himself.

‘You called Vernon?’ he began. ‘Why was that?’

‘We’ve been speaking to Ivor Whetstone’s son,’ Steele told him. ‘He’s raised some concerns about our view of his father’s death, and he’s pointed to a possible anomaly about the fraud of which he’s been accused. We’ve decided that it warrants a few more questions, and maybe even a full-scale investigation by us. Where is Mr Easterson, sir?’

‘He’s not here,’ Fraser replied superfluously. ‘He’s on leave, in fact. He was really rather overwrought in the wake of Whetstone’s death. Ivor was very much his man, if you know what I mean, and he’s taken it very badly, so I’ve suggested to him that he has some time at home to let him come to terms with things.’

‘Would that be what they call gardening leave, sir?’ Mary Chambers caught his eye as she spoke.

The chief executive attempted a wry smile. ‘There’s no fooling you, Superintendent, is there?’

‘It doesn’t happen often.’

‘Well, as it happens, you’re right again. A million-pound embezzlement is a serious business in any bank, especially for the line manager who lets it happen.’

‘What is your management structure here, sir?’

‘We have a five-person board, of which I’m the only executive member. I manage the organisation, which has two divisions, Commercial Banking and Personal Banking. Each of those is run by a general manager, and they report to me.’

‘So Mr Easterson is your deputy?’

‘One of two, Superintendent; he and the general manager, Personal Banking have equal status in the organisation. We run the two divisions entirely separately. Several of our private clients. . in fact I think I’m correct in saying the majority. . are directors or senior executives of companies to which the commercial-banking division is the principal lender. Therefore it’s only right that we should have very effective Chinese walls between the two sides of the operation, and we do.’

‘It’s a pretty short line of command,’ said Chambers, ‘and it begs a pretty obvious question.’

‘I know.’ Fraser sighed. ‘Who investigates me in circumstances like these? That’s what my conversation with the chairman was about. He wants to put the matter in the hands of our auditors. He feels, and he’s right, that we have a duty to our shareholders to have an external investigation.’

‘I feel that you have a duty to the law as well,’ the superintendent countered. ‘This is a criminal matter. Last week we were satisfied by your senior executive’s, and by my predecessor’s, study of the papers you provided, that Whetstone was guilty, and we reported that to the fiscal. He looked at the file in his turn and agreed with us. However, what Murphy Whetstone told us this morning has persuaded us that we should take a second look. You can forget your auditors, sir. This is our investigation.’

As she finished, Stevie Steele frowned. From the moment of Fraser’s unexpected appearance he had sensed that there was something wrong with the picture, something else behind the chief executive’s patently obvious anxiety. All at once, he realised what it was.

‘Where does Aurelia Middlemass fit into your structure?’ he asked. ‘I thought she was Mr Easterson’s number two in Commercial Banking. If that’s right, why isn’t she here?’

The banker’s face reddened noticeably. ‘You have the advantage of me, Inspector,’ he replied. ‘That’s a question I’ve been asking myself, all morning. Aurelia didn’t come into the office this morning. She doesn’t have any holidays booked, and even if she had, I’d have asked her to cancel them in the current circumstances. Her secretary’s called her, I’ve called her myself. Neither of us has had any reply on her home phone or her mobile. I don’t know where the hell she is.’

‘That’s another complication,’ said Chambers. ‘All the more reason for us to be involved here. I’d like the official request to come from you, Mr Fraser.’

‘You have it. What else do you need?’

‘Two things. Actually the first is only a suggestion, but it’s one you might find appropriate. Since there are only you and Mr Easterson in the line above Mr Whetstone and Ms Middlemass, it might be in the bank’s best interest if you relinquished executive duties during this investigation to your other deputy.’

‘I tend to agree,’ Fraser admitted. ‘What’s the other thing?’

‘I need all the papers relating to the Bonspiel Partnership. The folder Ms Middlemass gave us last week was only a copy. We need the originals to see, if we can, whose sticky fingers are all over this thing.’

‘I only hope they are Whetstone’s. Frankly it would suit me best if it was him all along.’

‘I’m sure it would, although finding his prints on the documents won’t be conclusive by itself. If anyone was setting him up, they could have done it with blank paper that he had handled. We’ll need more than that.’

‘Where will you get it?’

Mary Chambers smiled. ‘Let us find Ms Middlemass first. Maybe she’ll be able to tell us.’