Keeping Secrets (30 page)

“Are you German?”

“No, why?”

“Just wondered. Well, good-bye.”

This unexpected meeting of someone so nice, whose life seemed a sort of sturdy fabric of uninterrupted threads, kept my sunny mood intact for the balance of the weekend, until Monday morning arrived and I was forced to realize again that I was faced with insurmountable tasks.

The morning was bitter cold, and rainy. As I walked to work under my umbrella I was passed by automobiles inching slowly along behind glowing headlights. When I reached the corner of Navarro and Houston, Mr. Tetzel pulled over to the curb and offered me a ride. He'd been so nice to me. I still felt guilty about spying on him that night he worked so late, and had purposely put off doing anything further for the BNA because I didn't want to find out anything bad about him. For the short distance to the office that morning, he proved interested in hearing about my new apartment and how I liked it, and said if I needed some extra time to get settled in I could leave a little early.

“Claude will be in the bank's employ until the end of the month. Surely he can stay at least one full day, between now and then,” he said, then winked.

I laughed and told him no thanks. It was now a common joke around the bank that Claude was leaving a little earlier every day, but he was sure that Mr. Tetzel was too busy to notice. He let me out right at the entrance and drove on to his parking space, and as I closed the door I felt determined more than ever to get this nasty business of spying out of the way and prove, once and for all, that he was not guilty of taking sides in the European war. Once I had done that, I would certainly have proven by all my willingness to help out in extra ways that I was the sort of secretary any man would be grateful for, and he would wind up prizing me in the end. It was like having a nagging toothache. One painful extraction, and things would be fine again.…

The first matter was getting to the general ledgers. While filling Tetzel's inkwell that morning I told Claude, “You've taught me just about everything about this office, but I know little about how the bank works. Don't you think I would benefit by having a look at each department while you're still around? I'd feel like I know at least a little more about what's going on.”

He shrugged, and shot me a petulant glance that I suspected he had been saving for a long time. “There's really no reason to start getting into people's hair for a while—”

Just then Mr. Tetzel came through the door and cut him short. “On the contrary, if Camille is that interested I see no need to waste time. She's already caught on to the work in here. But since you're too busy to familiarize her with our procedures, I'm sure we can find someone who can spare the time. Get Giddeon Sparks down here. She knows more about how this bank is run than anyone else.”

After he walked out, Claude slammed a file drawer shut and picked up the phone, without looking at me.

I'd seen Giddeon—whom everyone called Giddy—around the bank before, though we had never met. She was a widow, and had been with the bank since her husband died ten years before. She always wore dark skirts and white ruffly blouses on her stocky frame. She had a chubby face, kinky hair, and wore a pair of spectacles on the edge of her pug nose. Giddy looked like somebody's grandmother, though she'd never had any children. She had the vocabulary of a sailor and an infectious laugh. She was merry and fun. I adored her right off.

Before we left on a tour of the bank, Mr. Tetzel told me she was the assistant auditor, and a “most valued employee.” On the way down the hall I asked how a person worked up to such an important position.

“Aside from knowing how to keep a general ledger and understanding bookkeeping, you've got to have excellent penmanship,” she said.

“That leaves me out. Say, what sort of information goes into the general ledger, anyhow?”

“All deposits, withdrawals, transfers, loans—virtually everything, including a financial standing of the bank itself. It is the key to the whole operation, and has to be balanced to the penny each night.”

“Sounds like a tall order.”

“That's why the auditor has an assistant. I've always done most of the work, while my boss sits around in meetings. Lately I've had a bookkeeper helping me. But even when the boss retires a few years from now, I won't have a prayer for taking his title or salary. Personnel will move a man in to fill the job and hold me back, because I wear a skirt instead of trousers.”

“But that isn't fair. Mr. Tetzel doesn't seem—”

“I know, honey, but that's how it is. The personnel department is like a fortress. It takes a good deal of conniving to get past them to Mr. Tetzel's ear. He's a big advocate of line-of-authority. Around a bank, women are treated second-class, or haven't you noticed? No, I guess not. You're in a unique position.”

“I get unspoken messages from Claude, though. I think he's insulted at being replaced by someone as young as me, aside from my being a female. I just ignore him.”

“You've got plenty of fight. That's good. I never give up either. I keep hoping someday my capabilities will be appreciated.…”

We began on the main banking floor with the four tellers' cages, and I soon found Giddy had access to every corner of the bank because of her job function. She tapped twice, then paused and tapped once again on the door of the head teller's cage. In a moment I heard a lock turn, and the door opened. The teller explained that once he'd opened his money in the morning, he locked his door and stayed in there until he closed his pouch and left. “I understand you have to balance every night,” I told him.

“I once spent Christmas in this cage.”

When we left Giddy said, “From here a mullet picks up the checks and deposits, and sends them upstairs in a basket. Transit is up on the fifth floor. Mullets also send checks to the clearing house, and take bad checks to the merchants who issued them. They hand deliver statements to some of the customers who work in the downtown area.

“Now, on the day a check is written it goes to the credit department for posting. A pair of bookkeepers work together on this. We have a double entry system. They're also in charge of checking signatures, dates, and stop-payment orders. If they ever pay a check that's supposed to have been stopped, it's automatic dismissal.

“We'll go there after I show you the bank vault and safe-deposit boxes.”

We also stopped by the trust and collection departments along the way, and I began to understand why the bank occupied all five floors of the building. Still, I couldn't make out where to find information on loans, and was afraid to ask for fear of being obvious.

The credit department proved the answer, located next to Giddy's office on the second floor. “A loan committee passes on every loan in the bank, no matter the size, unless Tetzel himself gives the go-ahead. You see the reports daily on his desk. Information on loans goes back five years in this department, and there's a credit file on everyone, with an individual financial history. If Mr. Tetzel ever calls for a file on someone—or if you ever need one—you can phone down and order it for him.”

I thought of the implications of that, then realized as quickly I could hardly ask for files by the load without becoming suspect. And from the number of filing cabinets in that department, I would have plenty to go through. Giddy was continuing, “Of course, most of the time Mr. Tetzel just calls me and I bring them for him.”

“He depends upon you so much, I almost wonder he didn't ask you to become his secretary,” I said.

“I'm a whiz with pen and ink, but I can't type my name, and I don't take shorthand either. Now I think we've covered about all the departments except for the storage basement. I'll let you have a peek at my ledgers, but I won't have much time to show you how they're done today. My little ‘assistant' is ill and I've got her posting to do along with my own.”

She showed me the big bound records, and I could instantly see what she meant about good handwriting. The script—I could denote three different hands—was as beautiful as fancy printing. I noticed a safe in her office like the one in Tetzel's and remarked on this. “Oh, nearly all the departments have safes. We have to keep everything under lock and key—even the department doors. If we have a check or any other customer document overnight, it has to be locked up. That's bank policy.”

As I was leaving Giddy in her office, over an hour later, she said, “Oh, and a couple of incidentals that you may or may not learn from experience. We've got some cheeky mullets around here. If they ever try getting fresh with you, just report them. Those guys are even more dispensable than women employees.

“And another thing—watch your personal telephone calls. Minerva, the switchboard operator in the main lobby, will snitch on you. She's an old gossip, and she thinks she's important because she once blew the whistle on an employee who was embezzling, just by some calls he made.”

“Thanks for the information … I'll be sure to remember.”

Walking back up the stairs, I thought if ever there seemed an airtight operation, this was it. Clearly banks were on the watch for dishonest people … it only stood to reason.…

As for the nosy switchboard operator, Tetzel certainly could not carry on illicit conversations with her around … unless she were involved along with him.

4

When I phoned Edwin that night to explain the predicament, he asked, “Does Tetzel keep a master set of keys?”

“Not that I've been told about.”

“If so, see if you can slip them out one day and have a duplicate set made. If not, you'll have to take it one department at a time. Try and sneak them out at lunchtime and take them to a locksmith. There's one farther up on Navarro, just past Market. Then stick around one night and do some browsing.”

“You make it sound so easy.”

“Don't worry. Just be careful. Good luck.” He hung up.

Oh, I have to do better, I thought nervously. I should have had the sense to be more nosy when I had the chance. Next morning while Mr. Tetzel was in a meeting, I told Claude I was going to the credit department to observe. “I'll probably spend some time looking over Giddy's shoulder, too, while I'm down that way,” I added.

My greatest fear was that Giddy carried her keys in her pocket, and some member of the credit group did likewise. As it turned out, however, I noticed a group of keys in Giddy's drawer while she was busy on the phone. I watched clerks posting into the ledgers all morning, then left around eleven-thirty. When I returned at noon, I was disappointed to find Giddy at work at her desk. “Oh, I've lost my notebook,” I said quickly. “I thought I might have left it down here.”

She looked around. “I haven't seen it. Check next door in credit.”

It was tantalizing to be so near a desk in an empty room, but with Giddy so close by I didn't dare open a drawer to look for keys. On the way out I noticed she was eating lunch. “Staying in today?” I asked.

“Got some catching up to do. Find your book?”

“What? Oh, my book, no. I guess I've put it somewhere in my office. See you later.”

I wouldn't have believed such a casual encounter could have set my pulse beating so rapidly, and I thought as I walked back up the stairs, how am I going to hold together through this whole mess?

Overnight I made up a list of questions to get me back down to credit the following morning. My bookkeeping course in business school covered most of the answers, but if anyone seemed surprised at my ignorance I could always use the excuse that I needed some brushing up. In fact the four people comprising the department seemed pleased at my interest, and I got the feeling for the first time that this contact was winning people over. I sensed I'd been looked upon as an interloper from the start. There had been much resentment among the ranks. This was helping to overcome the barriers. I was continually struck by the fact that my work for the BNA, as long as Tetzel came out clean, would actually be to my advantage at the bank. If not, well … I'd just have to worry about that when the time came.…

Luck was with me that day. Giddy had gone to a meeting and taken her helper along, and they weren't expected back until late in the afternoon. At the first opportunity, I made the excuse of using the telephone at Giddy's empty desk, and at the same time slip her keys into my pocket. On the way to the locksmith I found with relief each key was clearly marked, and the bunch included those of the credit department locks as well. I rushed back before the lunch hour was over, and slipped the original keys back into the drawer.

I picked the night of Friday, December 18, to stay in and do my looking. The Tetzels were headed for a big Christmas ball at the Casino Club that evening, and from talk around the bank I learned there were many parties planned. Probably just about everybody would be in a rush to get out early. With luck, I could wait out anyone staying late to balance.

I was nervous all day, and kept watching the clock. For the previous week I'd made a big project of pulling out files for an end-of-the-year cleanup so that I'd have an excuse to work overtime and get caught up. Mr. Tetzel dictated six letters in the afternoon, which he said could be typed on Monday, then he mentioned, “I'll be going to Europe after the first of the year for several weeks. You needn't trouble with having everything caught up by Christmas. You'll have plenty of time for that while I'm away.”

“Oh, but I just can't relax when I have so much in front of me. I think I'll stay late tonight and get some work done, then I can finish up tomorrow morning.”

“Just as you wish.”

After I closed his door behind me I realized if he was going away that quickly, the sooner I'd have to get into that compartment in his safe, or it might be months before I'd have another chance to borrow the keys from his coat pocket. Then I relaxed a bit. I'd duplicate the key, then plunder the safe while he was in Europe. But what if there were important papers in there that he would take away with him, maybe forever? It was clear, I'd have to get at the contents before he left. I drew in a breath and walked to the typewriter.