Authors: Arthur Hailey
Tags: #Literary, #New York (N.Y.), #Capitalists and financiers, #General, #Fiction - General, #Fiction
"On the basis of the evidence it is dear you would have persisted in that course, even to having your innocent victim accused, found guilty, and sentenced in your place. Fortunately, because of the vigilance of others, that did not occur. But it was not through any second thoughts or 'penitence' of yours."
From his seat in the body of the court, Nolan Wainwright had a partial view of Eastin's face which had suffused deep red.
Judge Underwood referred again to his papers, then looked up. His eyes, once more, impaled the prisoner.
"So far I have dealt with what I regard as the most contemptible part of your conduct. There is, additionally, the basic offense your betrayal of trust as a bank officer, not merely once but on five occasions, widely separated. One such instance of dishonesty might be argued to be the result of reckless impulse. No such argument can be advanced for five carefully planned thefts, executed with perverted cleverness.
"A bank, as a commercial undertaking, is entitled to expect probity in those whom it selects as you were selected for exceptional trust. But a bank is more than a commercial institution. It is a place of public trust, and therefore the public is entitled to protection from those who abuse that trust individuals such as you."
The judge's gaze shifted to indude the young defense counsel, waiting dutifully beside his client. Now the tone of voice from the bench became more brisk and formalized.
"Had this been a more ordinary case, and in view of the absence of a previous criminal record, I would have imposed probation as defense counsel eloquently urged last week. But this is no ordinary case. It is an exceptional one for the reasons I have stated. Therefore, Eastin, you will go to prison where you will have time to reflect on your own activities which brought you there. 'The sentence of the Court Is that you be committed to the
custody of the Attorney General for a period of two years." At a nod from the court clerk, a jailer moved forward.
A brief conference took place, a few minutes after sentencing, in a small locked and guarded cubicle behind the courtroom, one of several reserved for prisoners and their legal counsel.
"The first thing to remember," the young lawyer told Miles Eastin, "is that a two-year prison term doesn't mean two years. You'll be eligible for parole after a third of the sentence is served. That's in less than a year."
Miles Eastin, wrapped in misery and a sense of unreality, nodded dully.
"You can, of course, appeal the sentence, and you don't have to make a decision about that now. But I'll tell you frankly, I don't advise it. For one thing I don't believe you'd be released pending an appeal. For another, since you pleaded guilty, the g
rounds for appeal are limited.
Also, by the time any appeal was heard, you might have served your sentence." "The ballgame's over. No appeal."
"I'll be in touch with you anyway, in case you change your mind. And while I think of it, I'm sorry how things came out." Eastin acknowledged wryly, "So am I."
"It was your confession, of course, that did us in. Without that I don't believe the prosecution would have proved its case at least the six-thousand-dollar cash theft, which weighed heaviest with the judge. I know, of course, why you signed that second statement the FBI one; you thought the first was valid so another wouldn't make any difference. Well, it did. I'm afraid that security man, Wainwright, tricked you all the way." The prisoner nodded. "Yes, I know that now."
The lawyer looked at his watch. "Well, I have to go. I've a heavy date tonight. You know how it is." A jailer let him out.
Next day Miles Eastin was transferred to a federal prison, out of state.
***
At First Mercantile American Bank, when news of Miles Eastin's sentencing was received among those who knew him, some felt regret, others held the view that the retribution was what he had deserved. One opinion was unanimous: No more would be heard of Eastin at the bank again.
Only time would prove how much in error that last assumption was.
Part Two
1
Like a bubble surfacing from underwater, the first hint of trouble appeared in mid-January. It was an item in a gossip column, "Ear to the Ground," published in a city newspaper's Sunday edition. The columnist wrote:
… Whispers around downtown predict major cutbacks soon
at Forum East. His said the
big rehab - project has bankroll prob
lems. Nowadays who hasn't? ..
Alex Vandervoort was unaware of the item until Monday morning when his secretary placed it, ringed in red, on his desk with other papers.
During Monday afternoon Edwina D'Orsey telephoned to inquire if Alex had read the rumor and if he kne
w of anything behind it. Edwina’
s concern was not surprising. Since the beginning of Forum East, her downtown branch bank had handled construction loans, many of the mortgages involved, and accompanying paperwork. By now the project represented an important segment of branch business.
"If there's something in the wind," Edwina insisted, "I want to be told."
"So far as I know," Alex reassured her, "nothing's changed."
Moments later he returned his hand to the telephone intending to check with
Jerome Patterton, then changed h
is mind. Misinformation about Forum East was nothing new. The project had generated much publicity; inevitably some was inaccurate.
It was poi
ntless, Alex decided, to bother
the bank's new president with needless trivia, particularly when he wanted Patterton's support on a major is
sue a large-scale expansion of F
MA savings activity, now being planned for consideration by the board.
However, Alex was more concerned a few days later when a longer item appeared, this time in the regular news column of the daily Times-Register. The report read:
…
Anxiety about the fu
ture of Forum E
ast persists amid growing rumors that financial backing may shortly be reduced severely or withdrawn.
The Forum East project, which has as its long
-
term goal a total rehabilitation of the city's downtown core both business and residential, has been underwritten by a consortium of financial
interests spearheaded by First
Mercantile American Bank.
A spokesman for First Mercantile American today acknowledged the rumors but would make n
o comment except to say, "An an
nouncement will be forthcoming in due course."
U
nder the Forum East plan, some
inner city residential areas have already been modernized or rebuilt. A high
-
rise, low-rental community developme
nt has been completed. Another i
s in progress.
A ten-year master plan incl
udes
programs to im
prove schools, assist minority businesses, provide job training and emplo
yment as well as cultural opportun
ities and recreation. Major construction, begun two and a half year
s ago, has so far remained on
schedule.
Alex read the morning news story at his apartment over breakfast. He was alone; Margot had been out of town on legal business for the past week. On arrival at FMA Headquarters Tower he summoned Dick French. As vice
-president of public relations,
French, a burly, blunt-speaking ax-financial editor, ran his department knowledgeably.
"In the first place," Alex demanded, "who was the bank spokesman?"
"That was me," French said. "And I'll tell you right now I wasn't happy about that 'statement in due course' crap. But Mr. Patterton told me to use those words. He also insisted I shouldn't say more." "What more is there?"
"You tell me, Alex. Obviously something's going on and, good or bad, the sooner we put it on the line, the better."
Alex curbed a rising anger. "Is there a reason I wasn't consulted about any of this?"
The PR
head appeared surprised. "I thought you revere. When I talked on the phone to Mr. Patterton yesterday I know Roscoe was with him because I could hear them talking. I assumed you were in there, too." "Next time," Alex said, "don't assume anything."
He dismissed French, then instructed his secretary to inquire Of Jerome Patterton were free. He was informed that the president had not yet arrived at the bank, but was on his way, and Alex could see him at 11 A.M. He grunted impatiently and went back to work on the savings expansion program.
At eleven Alex walked the few yards to the presidential suite two corner rooms, each with a view of the city. Since the new president had taken over, the second r
oom usually had the door closed
and visitors were not invited in. Word had leaked out through secretaries that Patterton used it to practice putting on the rug.
Today,
bright sunshine from a cloudless
winter sky shone through the wall-wide windows onto Jerome Patterton's pink, near-hairless head. Seated behind a desk, he wore a light patterned suit, a switch from his usual tweeds. A newspaper in front of him was folded open to the news story which had brought Alex here. On a sofa, in shadow, was Roscoe Heyward. The three exchanged g
ood mornings. Patterton said, 'I
asked Roscoe to stay because
I had
notion what the subject
might be." He touched the paper
"You've seen this, of course."
"I've seen it," Alex said. "I've also had Dick French in. He tells me that you and Roscoe discussed the press queries yesterday. So my first question is, why wasn't I informed?
I'm as involved as anyone with F
orum East."
"You should have been informed, Alex." Jerome Patterton seemed embarrassed. '`The truth is, I guess, we got a little rattled when the press calls showed there had been a leak." "A leak of what?"
It was Heyward who answered. "Of a proposal I
’
ll be bringing before the money policy committee next Monday. I'm suggesting a reduction of the bank's present commitment to Forum East by approximately fifty percent."
In view of the rumors which had surfaced, the confirmation was not surprising. What astounded Alex was the extent of the proposed incision.
He addressed Patterton. "Jerome, do I understand that you are in favor of this incredible piece of folly?"
A flus
h-suffused the president's face and egg-like head. "It's nei
ther true nor untrue. I've reserv
ed judgment until Monday. What Roscoe has been doing here yesterday and today is some advance lobbying."
"Right." Heyward added blandly, "An entirely legitimate tactic, Alex. And in case you object, let me remind you that on plenty of occasions you took your own ideas to Ben in advance of money policy meetings."
"If I did," Alex said, "they made a damn sight better sense than this one." "That, of course, is solely your opinion." "Not solely. Others share it."
Heyward was unruffled. "My own opinion is that we can put the bank's money to substantially better use." He turned toward Patterton. "Incidentally, Jerome, those rumors now c
irculating could be helpful to us
if the proposal for a cutback is agreed to. At least the decision won't come as a sudden shock."
"If you see it that way," Alex said, "maybe it was you who leaked the rumors." "I assure you it was not." "Then how do you explain them?" Heyward shrugged. "Coincidence, I suppose."
Alex wondered: Was it coincidence? Or had someone close to Roscoe Heyward floated a trial balloon on his behalf? Yes. It might well be Harold Austin, the Honorable Harold, who, as head of an advertising agency, would have plenty of contacts with the press. It seemed unlikely, though, that anyone would ever find out.
Jerome Patterton
raised his hands. "Both of you save any more argument
s until Monday. We'll go over all
of them then."
"Let's not fool ourselves," Alex Vandervoort insisted. "The point we are deciding today is how much profit is reasonable and how much is excessive."
Roscoe Heyward smiled. "Frankly, Alex, I've never considered any profit excessive."
"Nor have I," Tom Straughan put in. "I recognize, though' that making an exceptionally high profit is sometimes indiscreet and asking for trouble. It becomes known and criticized. At the end of the financial year we have to publish it."
"Which is another reason," Alex added, "why we should strike a balance between achieving profit and giving service."
"Profit is giving service to our shareholders," Heyward said. "That's the kind of service I put first."
The bank'
s money policy committee was in
session in an executive conference room. The committee, which had four members, met every other Monday morning with Roscoe Heyward as chairman. The other members were Alex and
two senior vice-president
Straughan and Orville Young.
The committee's purpose was to decide the uses to which bank funds would be put. Major decisions were referred afterward to the board of directors for confirmation, though the board rarely changed what the committee recommended.