The Agency

32 - Bank of St. George

Richard spent three hours studying the area around the bank. He covered all the adjacent eateries, businesses and scanned the parked vehicles that were close enough to prove dangerous. Satisfied the area was clean, he decided to risk their move on going for the money.

René sat across from the junior direttore, poised and confident, while he went over the papers she had supplied. She had entered the bank with little trepidation, Richard's coaching had been scrupulous, yet she did not see herself as being this person and it took a moment to achieve character.

Now, after meeting the assistant direttore, she sensed a relaxing of her muscles and her breathing eased back to normal. She should be used to deception, she thought, with some irony.

"I will also require the Signorina's identification please."

She opened her purse and gave him her credit card and her municipal identity card, which showed a photo of her from a year ago.

"This, Mister Arthur Glebeholme, he is where, did you say?"

"Mister Glebeholme is resting in his villa in France; he is recovering from a minor surgical procedure. He asked me to do this because he has some projects pending that require substantial investments to conclude and time is a critical factor."

"I will have to pass this by the senior direttore. As you can appreciate, the sum is indeed substantial."

"I can only reiterate that time is critical." She smiled pointedly.

"Of course, if you will give me a few moments." He stood, bowed slightly and swept away to the line of dark-stained offices, disappearing into the last one in the row.

René felt a fresh dampness under arms and she squeezed her fingers together to maintain an outward calm. Looking about the bank she saw a couple of people she had a nodding acquaintance with, plus a rather large man with a nasty scar on his chin.

The man was thumbing through bank brochures but he wasn't really paying attention and she felt instantly alert at the prospect that it might be one of Richard's hunters following her.

The assistant appeared in front of her suddenly. "Direttore, Lupa asks if you will come to his office please."

René stood and walked around the desk to where the junior direttore was waiting.

"Right this way, please." He moved with a half turn down the row of offices, like a pet dog keeping track of its master.

She paused at the doorway and glanced back at the man with the brochures; he was staring intently after her.

"Signorina Morreau, please. Sit." The unctuous little man, who held the title of Bank Direttore, smiled an oily smile and waved a finger in the direction of the huge leather covered chair beside his desk.

"Signorina," he laced his stubby fingers together and leaned toward her, "is it a coincidence that Signorina Vitti, the other firmatario of this account has an appointment here this morning to do exactly as you are asking?"

She blinked but retained her composure. "I know nothing of any such person. I am simply doing the bidding of my employer, Signore Glebeholme." She felt the dampness spread beneath her arms and she prayed it didn't show.

"But surely you can see my dilemma, Signorina. I think it would be best to await Signorina Vitti and then discuss what is to be done."

She wet her lips and sat straighter in the chair. "I have told your junior direttore that it is critical Signore Glebeholme have his funds available for a very time sensitive investment. Now, if necessary, we can call Signore Glebeholme at his villa and he can tell you himself, but I warn you, he is recovering from surgery and to be disturbed at this time will not endear your bank to his future business."