The Only Gold (9 page)

The man had calmed him so well, Jonah hadn’t at first noticed how thoroughly he’d been cornered under the stairs. He could hear the low voice, teasing, reassuring, and the hands on his skin revealed more than just a perversion for other men. He’d laid out Jonah’s life in that endless five minutes, shown him the need he wouldn’t escape.

And he had invited Jonah back again, gratis.

Though he’d never gone back, he hadn’t gone forward, either. There was nowhere to go. The hand wrapped around him belonged to a swarthy, dark-eyed man whose name he’d never known. It pulled and squeezed, and all the while he whispered to Jonah that he understood, that the two of them were just the same. But at the last moment, Jonah was back in the present, alone, bringing himself to completion.

There were times when that touch was a guilty pleasure. There were times when he didn’t want it, because a pervasive loneliness waited at the end of it. Trying not to think, he fell asleep and dreamt he was in the bank. Reid arrived at the door, and Jonah refused to let him in.

He woke on the chaise, shivering, but self-conscious heat burned his cheeks as he remembered what he’d done. After cleaning himself as best he could in the dark, he burrowed into the now-cold bed and slept on, waking well past six. He rose disoriented, knowing only that he could not be late for work again, especially with the directors meeting at three. Mr. Grandborough might come in, and Jonah desperately wanted to talk to him.

Dressed in minutes, Jonah forewent breakfast, and instead of waiting on a streetcar, hired a cab.

The
snow that had fallen during the night was already melting under a pale sun. With barely a moment to spare, Jonah walked into the bank lobby and, conscious of curious stares, crossed to the corridor and shut himself in his office. He was disheveled, he supposed, having dressed so hastily. He’d remembered his scarf but not his gloves, so stood warming wind-bitten hands at the radiator when Reid came in without even a tap at the door.

“Good morning….” Reid stared at him for an instant, then gestured offhandedly at Jonah’s waistcoat. “Someone misbuttoned you this morning.”

Embarrassed despite Reid’s attempt to make a joke of it, Jonah hastily put himself in order. Reid sat and picked up one of the trade papers on the desk. “I’ve been reading over the credit books, and I see you’ve done the necessary investigation into the business affairs of your more frequent borrowers. I have some questions—”

“Regarding our decisions on past loans?” Jonah smoothed the front of his waistcoat, brushing fingers over the buttons once more, just in case. “We’ve had no unusual losses, I assure you. No more than any other bank.”

Reid folded the newspaper and tossed it aside. “Is there reason to hope we may see the day when you’ll no longer take everything I say as an attack on the bank… or you?”

Though there was not the least rancor in the question, the frankness of it took Jonah aback. “You exaggerate.”

“Do I?”

“I’m in no position to argue with you—”

“Yet you do, without fail.” Reid rose. “Assistant cashiers generally assist, Mr. Woolner. At least they have at all the banks I’ve worked in before. You resist all down the line and assert your concern is for the bank. You may understand why I’m not convinced that’s the case.”

Jonah broke from Reid’s expectant gaze and half turned, briefly startled by the sight of dripping icicles on the building across the way. The room was so warm. “I cannot apologize for being protective of the bank. However,” he went on before Reid could interrupt, “I’m sorry I’ve not been fulfilling my duties to your satisfaction. Henceforth, I’ll do my best to take your suggestions in the spirit you intend.” Reminding himself of his own intention to preserve dignity and integrity in the most businesslike manner, he faced Reid with chin lifted, shoulders squared. “If there’s nothing else, shall I take the correspondence or exchanges?”

Reid watched him for an unending minute and seemed to conclude that retreat on both sides was best for the time being. “Whichever you like. We’ll talk about the credit books later.”

Ready to escape the room’s confines, Jonah chose the exchanges. At noon, Reid went to dinner, inviting Simon along; almost immediately on their return, he brought up the credit books again, apparently determined to test Jonah’s promise of cooperation. Jonah wanted to take in the proposals without a murmur, but he could not keep still when Reid suggested they start making special inquiries into the business of the bank’s borrowers.

“We’ve never considered that worth the risk of losing customers.”

“If the inquiries are made discreetly, no borrower will have reason for alarm.”

“I know I said I would consider your suggestions fairly, but I cannot condone this. In the matter of lending, we are already quite careful.”

“Maybe so, but there’s always the opportunity for greater care. I think it should be brought to Mr. Grandborough’s attention.”

Jonah was appalled. “All the changes you’ve made… you plan to ask final approval of them at the meeting this afternoon?”

“I do.”

“Then I hope you will not think it uncooperative of me to present all the reasons why some of your proposals are risky or simply of no benefit to the bank.”

Reid snorted softly, as if he’d expected that response. “Present away. In fact, I think I’m about to add to your list—if you will accompany me to the lobby.”

“Why? What are you doing?”

Reid’s smug smile came to the fore at that question. He walked ahead, leaving Jonah no recourse but to hurry after. Reid greeted the customers in line at Matthew’s window, then leaned forward for a word with Matthew. “Where is Mr. Campbell?”

Matthew’s smile was more grimace. “Mr. Fisher brought in his gold. Simon’s gone back to weigh it.”

“Never a favorite chore of mine, either. All right.” Reid went through the gate and laid a sheet of paper on Margaret’s desk. “I’ve taken the liberty of redesigning the deposit ticket to accommodate a greater number of checks. I would value your opinion of it, Margaret, if you have a moment to look it over.”

Jonah could not believe his ears. “You never mentioned this to me.”

“I have no doubt as to your opinion, Mr. Woolner.” Reid took a second sheet of paper from his coat pocket and turned to the row of clerks at their desks. “Ladies and gentlemen, a minute of your time in regard to the collection of passbooks at the end of the month. Beginning today, we will be writing up the checks as they’re received,” he continued, holding aloft a ruled sheet, “and placing only the totals in the passbooks. This is a time-saving measure you will all come to appreciate.”

Robbed of speech and nearly of breath, Jonah turned to gauge Margaret’s reaction and discovered her admiring the vandalized deposit ticket. She caught his glance and held out the ticket for his perusal. “It is an improvement.”

“Yes. A rather expected result when the man can do no wrong.”

Amused reproach shone in her eyes. “Are you really being fair?”

“He’s been here three days, Margaret.” Jonah looked around to see Reid back in conversation with Matthew. “Three days and he’s already pushed more changes on us than Mr. Crowe did in ten years. That doesn’t speak of a certain heedlessness to you?”

“You don’t believe his innovations are sound? I rather like the new ticket.”

“And just what was the matter with the old one?”

Margaret laughed. “All institutions must move ahead with the times. Even banks.”

“Not at this breakneck pace.” The only way to rein in Reid was to detail his tactics to the board. Once they knew, they would take steps. And if Reid thought to coerce his cooperation by leaving him to learn of changes along with the staff, he was much mistaken.

Simon appeared around the corner with Mr. Fisher’s gold tucked under his arm and Mr. Fisher in tow. Jonah slipped through the gate to meet them. “Mr. Fisher, good morning. I trust Mr. Campbell’s examination met with your expectations.”

Mr. Fisher might have been an unassuming figure if not for his tendency to mix stripes with checks. Jonah had always attributed it to too much time spent in the wilds of California and away from his wife. It did not add stature to his short, bow-legged shape, but it was undeniably attention-drawing. “Mr. Woolner, I am quite pleased. Quite pleased. My own count was twenty-five hundred, and Mr. Campbell makes it at just eleven pounds. And might I say I was so sorry to hear about Mr. Crowe. So sorry, indeed. You have assumed the post of cashier?”

Jonah caught Simon’s guilty twitch of the lips before Simon looked elsewhere. Of course he would leave the telling of that news to Jonah. “If I may introduce our new cashier….” He heard Reid pass the gate and loom up behind, like a hungry wolf seeking some new tidbit to devour. “Mr. Reid Hylliard, late of Washington, Chicago, and… where else was it?”

Reid smiled and held out his hand to shake Fisher’s weather-beaten one. “I don’t think there are too many places I haven’t been. It’s a pleasure, sir. You look like a fellow who’s been to more than a few interesting places, yourself. You’ve done a lot of prospecting?”

“Near forty years of it, sir, and come away with a tidy sum, if I do say so.” He smoothed the lapels of his green and yellow checked coat. “I’ll do forty more, God willing.”

“You’ll want sturdier bags,” Reid remarked, running his thumb over a threadbare spot on the bag Simon held.

Jonah took a closer look. “Mr. Campbell, if you continue to tie the bags that tightly, you will have a sack of gold dust instead of coin.”

Mr. Fisher threw a bright-eyed glance at Simon. “Told you, son.”

“There’s a trick to tying those,” Reid said as Jonah reached to take the bag. “Let me show you—”

“I am familiar with the requirements for bagging gold.” Jonah got a firmer grip as Reid started to take the bag from him. “You’re not the only one with practical experience—” He broke off as the bag opened in his grasp and showered gold in every direction. At the tremendous clatter, customers in line whipped around. The staff deserted their posts to peer past the counter in equal measures of delight and dismay. A far-flung coin glittered, still rolling, until it toppled at the feet of several gentlemen just entering the bank. Jonah looked up to see Nat Gavet and the rest of the directors in the doorway and, in their midst, Bennet Grandborough.

In the
stillness, with all eyes upon him and the spilled gold at his feet, Jonah forgot how to breathe. When reflex took over and forced air into his lungs, he still couldn’t move of his own volition. It was only Mr. Fisher’s quiet, “I’ll be damned,” that jarred him from shock to an overriding sense of urgency. He started to his knees to gather the gold and found Reid had a firm grip on his arm. But Reid did no more than smile at him before becoming a whirlwind of activity himself. “Margaret—”

She was already through the gate with a box in hand. Reid thanked her as he took it and beckoned to two young boys standing in line with their father. “How would you fellows like to earn a bright new quarter dollar apiece? Gather up these coins as quick as you can, but be sure you don’t miss any, and give them to this gentleman when you’re done. Deal?”