The Moneychangers (22 page)

"Hello, Mrs. Nun
ez," Margot said. "Will you join me for coffee?"

On a terrace adjoining the delicatessen they sipped espresso and chatted about Juanita, her daughter Estela who this morning was at a community-sponsored ballet class, and progress at Forum East. Juanita and her husband Carlos had been am
ong the early tenants in the
development, occupying a tiny walk-up apartment in one of the rehabilitated older buildings, though it was shortly after moving in that Carlos had departed for parts unknown. So far Juanita had kept the same accommodations.

But managing was very difficult, she confided. "Everyone here has the same problem. Each month our money
will buy less. This inflation, Where will it
end?"

According to Lewis D'Orsey, Margot reflected, it would end in disaster and anarchy. She kept the thought to herself, but was reminded of the conversation three days ago between Lewis, Edwina, and Alex.

-  "I heard," she said, "that you had some kind of problem at the bank where you work."

Juanita's face clouded. For a moment she seemed close to tears and Margot said hastily, "I'm sorry. Perhaps I shouldn't have asked."

"No, not It was Just that remembering suddenly… Anyway, it is over now. But I will tell you if you wish."

"One thing you should know about us lawyers," Margot said, "is that we're always nosy."

Juanita smiled, then was-serious as she described the six-tho
us
and-dollar cash loss and the forty-eight-hour nightmare of suspicion and interrogation. As Margot listened, her anger, never far below the surface, rose.

"The bank had no right
to keep on pressuring you with
out your having legal advice. Why didn't yo
u call me?" 'I
never thought of it," Juanita said.

'T
hat's the whole trouble. Most innocent people don't." Margot considered, then added, "Edwina D'Orsey is my cousin. I'm going to talk to her about this."

Juanita looked startled. "I didn't know.
But please don't a
fter all, it was Mrs. D'Orsey who found the truth."

"All right," Margot conceded, "if you don't want me to, I won't. But I'll talk to someone else you don't know. And remember this: If you're in trouble again, about anything, call me
. I'll be there to hel
p."

'Thank you," Juanita said. "If it happens, I will. I really will."

***

"If the bank had actually fired Juanita Lopez," Margot told
Alex Vandervoort that night, "I’
d have advised her to sue you, and we'd have collected heavily."

"You might well have," Alex agreed. They were on their way to a supper dance and he was driving Margot's Volkswagen. "Especially when the truth about our thieving operations man, Eastin, came out as it was bound to eventually. Fortunately, Edwina's womanl
y instincts functioned, saving us
from yours." "You're being flip."

His tone changed "
You're right, and I shouldn't be
. The fact is, we behaved shabbily to the Nunez girl, and everybody concerned knows it. I do, because I've read everything to do with the case. So does Edwina. So does Nolan Wainwright. But fortunately, in the end noth
ing really bad happened. Mrs. Nu
nez still has her job, and our bank has learned something which will help us do better in the future." "That's more like it." Margot said.

They left it there, which, given their mutual love of argument, was an accomplishment.

19

During the week preceding Christmas, Miles Eastin appeared in Federal Court charged with embezzlement on five separate counts. Four of the charges involved fraudulent transactions at the bank from which he had benefited; these totaled thirteen thousand dollars. The fifth charge related to the six-thousand-dollar cash theft.

Trial was before the Honorable Judge Winslow Underwood, sitting with a jury.

On advice of counsel, a well-meaning but inexperienced young man appointed by the court after Eastin's personal resources had proven to be nil, a not guilty plea was entered on all counts. As it turned out, the advice was bad. A more seasoned lawyer, assessing the evidence, would have urged a guilty plea and perhaps a deal with the prosecutor, rather than have certain details principally Eastin's attempt to incriminate Juanita Nunez revealed in court. As it was, everything came out.

Edwina D'Orsey testified, as did Tottenhoe, Gayne of central audit staff, and another audit colleague. FBI Special Agent Innes introduced as evidence Miles Eastin's signed admission of guilt concerning the cash theft, made at FBI local headquarters subsequent to the confession which Nolan Wainwright extracted from Eastin at the latter's apartment.

Two weeks before the trial, at discovery
proceedings, defendant's counsel had
objected to the FBI document and made a pre-trial motion to have it barred from evidence. The motion was denied. Judge Underwood pointed out that before Eastin made his statement he had been properly cautioned about his legal rights in the presence of witnesses.

The earlier confession obtained by Nolan Wainwright, the legality of which might have been challenged more effectively, was not needed and therefore was not introduced.

The sight of Miles E
astin in court depressed Edwina. He appeared pale and hagga
rd with dark rings beneath his
eyes. All of his accustomed buoyancy had gone and, in contrast to the immaculate grooming she remembered, his hair was untidy and his suit rumpled. He seemed to have aged since the night of the branch audit.

Edwina's own evidence was brief and circumstantial and she gave it straightforwardly. While being mildly cross
-
examined by counsel for the defense, she glanced several times toward Miles Eastin, but his
head was down and he declined to
meet her eyes. Also a witness for the prosecution albei
t a reluctant one was Juanita Nu
nez. She was nervous and the court had difficulty hearing her. On two
occasions the judge intervened,
asking Juanita to raise her voice, though his approach was coaxing and gentle,: since by then her injured innocence in the whole affair had been made clear.

Juanita demonstrated no antagonism toward Eastin in her evidence, and kept her answers brief, so that the prosecutor pressed her constantly to amplify them. Plainly all she wanted was to have the ordeal over.

Defense counsel, making a belated wise decision, waived his right to question her.

It was immediately following Juanita's testimony that defense counsel, after a whispered consultation with his client, asked leave to approach the bench Permission was granted. The prosecutor, judge, and defense counsel thereupon engaged in a low-toned colloquy during which the latter requested leave to change Miles Eastin's original "not guilty" plea to "guilty."

Judge Underwood, a quiet-spoken patriarch, with steel not far below the surface, surveyed both lawyers. He matched their lowered voices so the jury could not hear. "Very well, the change of plea will be permitted if the defendant
so wishes. But I advise counsel
that at this point it makes little, if any, difference."

Sending the jury from the courtroom, the judge then questioned Eastin, confirming that he wished to change his plea and realized the consequences. To all the questions the prisoner answered dully, "Yes, your honor?'

The judge recalled the jury to the courtroom and dismissed it.

After an earnest entreaty by the young defense lawyer for clemency, including a reminder that his client had no previous criminal record, Miles Eastin was remanded into custody for sentencing the following week.

Nolan Wainwright, though not required to testify, had been present throughout the court proceedings. Now, as the- court clerk called another case and the contingent of bank witnesses filed out from the courtroom, the bank security chief moved alongside Juanita. .,.
"Mrs. Nun
ez, may I talk with you for a few minutes?" She glanced at him with a mixture of indifference and hostility, then shook her head. "It is all finished. Besides, I am going back to work." -

When they were outside the Federal Courts Building, only a few blocks from FMA Headquarters Tower and the downtown branch, he persisted, "You're walking to the bank? Right now?" She nodded. "Please. I'd like to walk with you." Juanita shrugged. "If you must."

Wainwright watched as Edwina D'Orsey, Tottenhoe, and the two audit staff men, also heading for the bank, crossed a nearby intersection. He deliberately held back, missing a green pedestrian light so the others would remain ahead.

"Look," Wainwright said, "I've never found it easy to say I'm sorry."

Juanita said tartly, "Why should you bother? It is only a word, not meaning much."

"Because I want to say it. So I do to you. I'm sorry. Par the trouble I caused you, for not believing you were telling the truth when you were and needed somebody to help."

"So now you feel better? You have swallowed your little aspirin? The tiny pain is gone?" "You don't make it easy."

She stopped. "Did you?" The small elfin face was tilted upward, her dark eyes met his own steadily and for the first time he was aware of an underlying strength and independence. He was also, to his own surprise, conscious of her strong sexuality.

"No, I didn't. Which is why I'd like to help now if I can." "Help about what?"

"About getting maintenance and child support from your husband." He told her of the FBI inquiries concerning her absent husband Carlos, and tracing him to Phoenix, Arizona. "He has a job there as a motor mechanic and obviously is earning money."

'
Then I am pleased for Carlos."

"What I had in mind," Wainwright said, "is that you should consult one of our lawyers at the bank. I could arrange that. He would advise you how to take action against your husband and afterwards I'd see to it you weren't charged any legal fees." "Why would you do that?" "We owe it to you." She shook her head. "No." He wondered if she had properly understood.

"It would mean," Wainwright said, "there would be a court order and your husband would have to send you money to help take care of your little girl." "And will that make Carlos a man?" "Does it matter?"

"It matters that he should not be forced. He knows that I am here and that Estela is with me. If Carlos wanted us to hav
e his money he would send it. S
i no, para que?" she added softly.

It was like a fencing match with shadows. He said in exasperation, "I'll never understand you."

Unexpectedly Juanita smiled. "It is not necessary that you should."

They walked the remaining short distance to the bank in silence, Wainwright nursing his frustration. He wished she had thanked him for his offer; if she had, it would have meant, at least, she took it s
eriously. He tried to guess at
her reasoning and values. She obviously rated independence high. After that he imagined she accepted life as it came, fortune or misfortune, hopes raised or yearnings shattered. In a way he envied her and, for that reason and the sexual attraction he had been aware of earlier, he wished he knew her better.

"Mrs. Lopez," Nolan Wainwright said, "I'd like to ark you something." "Yes."

"If you have a problem, a real problem, something I might help with, will you call me?"

It was the second such offer she had had in the past few days. "Maybe."

That until much later was the last conversation between Wainwright and Juanita. He felt he had done all he could, and had other things on his mind. One was a subject he had raised with Alex Vandervoort two months ago planting an undercover informer in an attempt to track down the source of counterfeit credit cards, still gouging deep financial wounds in the Keycharge card system.

Wainwright had located an e
x-convict, known to him Only as "Vic," who was prepared to take the considerable risk in return for money. They had had one secret meeting, with elaborate precautions. Another was expected.

Wainwright's fervent hope was to bring the credit-card swindlers to justice, as he had Miles Eastin.

The following week, when Eastin appeared once more before Judge Underwood this time for sentencing Nolan Wainwright was the sole representative of First Mercantile American Bank in court.

With the prisoner standing, facing the bench on the court clerk's orders, the judge took his time about selecting several papers and spreading them before him, then regarded Eastin coldly. "Do you have anything to say?" "No, your honor." The voice was barely audible.

"I have received a report from the probation officer" Judge Underwood paused, scanning one of the papers he had selected earlier "whom you appear to have convinced that you are genuinely penitent for the criminal offenses to which you have pleaded guilty." The judge articulated the words "genuinely penitent" as if holding them distastefully between thumb and forefinger, making clear that he was not so naive as to share the opinion.

He continued, "Penitence, however, whether genuine or otherwise, is not only belated but cannot mitigate your vicious, despicable attempt to thrust blame for your own malfeasance onto an innocent and unsuspecting person a young woman one,
moreover, for whom you were
responsible as a bank officer and who trusted you as her superior.