by M. A. Owens
“Herman. When can you start?”
“First thing tomorrow.”
5
I did my research on Herman before departing for Adria District. No priors. Anyone with that much money could buy themselves out of murder. I was more concerned with what my friend Rick had to say, considering that he rubbed shoulders with all the big shots over there. So, I called him up.
Turns out, Rick didn’t know all that much about him either, other than the fact that he lived for the bank he owned, completely. All I had to go on was that he was rich and fairly reclusive. Sounded a lot like Rick, actually. I wonder if he’s ever put on a bandit costume and stole from mob bosses, like Rick had. Doubt it. Seemed the millionaire by day, master thief by night was Rick’s niche, even if he didn’t do so much of it anymore since the nasty spinal injury he got helping me solve the Grand Gobbler case. He still needed a cane to get around, but it beat the chair and crutches.
After several hours of walking, I arrived at my destination. The First Bank of Adria was really something to behold. It wasn’t the biggest building in the district, but it was one of the fanciest. In fact, what made this bank so unique, was the fact that they had branches in every district. I did my banking with them. I suppose that may ordinarily pose some ethical issues, but considering there were no suitable alternatives, maybe not so much. The headquarters of the bank was nothing to sneeze at either. Not that my sneeze would’ve had much effect on it. The doggone thing was gigantic. Every brick fit a precise pattern, perfectly spaced, and the mortar was somehow a deep black color. It was a small detail that made the building stand out. That, and how the building became more and more glass as it got higher, eventually becoming more glass than brick. An ornate sign, edged in gold, was mounted above the entrance doors on the ground floor.
It reminded me a little of Sugarplum’s building, with the generous spread of security. Made you wonder just what these dogs and cats thought would happen. Were they expecting some kind of large-scale invasion? Seemed like it. Then again, Sugarplum helped put her mob boss father behind bars, so she had some reason to look over her shoulder. What did Herman have to be afraid of? Maybe it was some kind of competition for these rich folk to prove to each other who had the most money. “Look at me. Look at all the money I have. I spent tens of thousands of dollars on security every year and still have to hire a Chihuahua from the Black District to fix my security problems.” Now that was a good one! Not sure Herman would appreciate the joke, but I was tempted to tell him anyway.
I stepped inside and made my way to the front desk. There was a fountain in the center of the room, surrounded by one space of mirrored tiles, creating a strange perspective illusion as you approached it. Along each wall were evenly spaced wooden tables, all of which were home to very expensive glass art. Some in the abstract shape of dogs and cats, and others too abstract to be recognized as anything. After a brief pause to take in my surroundings, I finally made it to the desk near the rear wall, between two elevators with metal doors polished to a mirror finish. What was this dog’s fascination with glass and mirrors?
“I’m here to see Herman,” I said.
The secretary was an older, black, bespectacled cat. She leaned toward me and adjusted her glasses, as if I were too small to see. “Right, you must be that detective from the Black District. I expected you to be…”
“Taller?”
“No, I expected you to be…”
“More handsome?”
She leaned in even closer, pushing her glasses all the way to the end of her nose so she was looking at me above them, and raised her voice almost to a yell. “Earlier.” She sighed, waved to one of the security dogs near the door. “Please escort the late detective here to Mr. Herman’s office, but be sure to take your time. It’s not like Mr. Herman is busy or anything like that. He has all day to wait.”
The young Doberman allowed half a grin to escape his lips before composing himself. “Of course, ma’am. We may grab a bit of lunch on the way. Wouldn’t want to wake Mr. Herman from his morning nap.”
The black cat snapped her paw into the air in confirmation. “How silly of me to forget that.”
“This how you treat all your customers? I don’t exactly live five minutes down the street.” I pointed toward the elevator. “Let’s go. Unless you’d rather sprint up the stairs so we don’t keep your boss waiting.”
The Doberman laughed. “Easy, detective. We’re just having a bit of fun. I think the elevator will be just fine.” The secretary’s expression remained like chiseled marble. She pushed her glasses back up her nose and leaned into her chair, returning to whatever book she was reading.
We got on the elevator and traveled several floors up, reaching our destination on the eighth floor. He pointed me in the right direction, which was easy enough. It was the room just across from where I’d gotten off the elevator. The entire room was enclosed in crystal-clear glass.
I only recognized one occupant, Herman, who was sitting in a fancy leather chair at the end of a long table. When he saw me, he motioned me inside. I swung open the two glass doors and stepped through.
“Hello there, detective. We were just talking about you.”
“All bad, I hope. Easier to impress people when their expectations are low.”
He chuckled lightly, as though the humor was below him, yet still amusing. “May as well be. I don’t think anyone particularly enjoys being under investigation, but as no one here has anything to hide, I suspect they will adjust quickly and cooperate fully. Let me introduce you to everyone. Starting at my left, there’s Simon. To his left Tom, and to Tom’s left, Sunny. On the other side of the table we have Carlo, Peach, and Daisy. Sunny is my personal assistant. You’re welcome to speak to all of us here, or you can interview us one by one. Let me make clear to you and everyone in this room that I didn’t start you off this way because I suspect any of my executives, only that I assumed it may help your investigation to start at the top, as each of these individuals are in charge of certain parts of the bank’s operations. If you need to reach all the way to the top on a particular issue, one of them will help you.
“I’ve asked Sunny to take you on a tour of the bank and give you a little background and history. This is routine for any visitor of the bank, but I thought it might be helpful to you. Once you’re done, she’ll bring you by my office, and we can discuss the matter in greater detail.”
Sunny nodded and smiled, motioning toward the door. “After you, Detective.”
She was a young feline dame. A short-haired Siamese cat with big blue eyes. Younger than I expected her to be for a cat this accomplished.
We stepped out of the meeting room, and she closed the door behind us. Not sure why I was getting the song and dance, but if Herman wanted to pay me to waste time I was happy to play along for now.
“Must’ve taken a lot of hard work to get picked for something like this.”
She stared at me blankly. “What do you mean?”
“Just that you look a lot younger than I would expect for a cat in your position.”
She narrowed her eyes. “You don’t think a cat can do the job?”
I felt my face heating. Is this what the whole interaction would be like? “Not what I said, and you know it.”
She pointed toward the room we were just in. “Let’s begin the tour. We were just in the conference room. Or the boardroom. It’s often called both. You may have noticed the large speakerphone in the center of the table. After all the executives finish their morning meeting, we call out to the other branches and bring each branch manager into a large meeting with everyone. They give the reports on the previous day and receive feedback from the executives.” She continued speaking as we walked back into the elevator. “On the seventh floor there is record keeping. That’s where-”
I rubbed the back of my neck and interrupted. “You keep the records? Look, in my line of work I’m used to asking questions. Mind if I just do that?”
She sig
hed, closing her eyes before taking a deep breath, holding it a moment, turning to me with a less-than-convincing smile. “Mr. Herman said to be as helpful to you as possible, so sure.”
“Speaking of Herman, let’s start with him. What’s it like to work for him? Oh, and before you answer, please don’t give me that corporate mumbo jumbo. You like the guy?”
“I guess I’m first to be interrogated. Sorry to disappoint you, detective, but Herman really is a professional. He’s always treated me fairly. As for his customers, I could hardly think of anything he cares more about.” She paused, resting her paw against her cheek. “Well, maybe I should rephrase that. He cares about them in the sense of what they represent. That’s money, in case you didn’t understand.”
“And the others who work for him? How does he treat them?”
She shrugged. “I can only speak for myself, but Mr. Herman has treated me very well. As you can see, Mr. Herman does not harbor any prejudices toward others. If you can make him money, he likes you. If you can’t, he’ll send you on your way. Speaking of which, he asked me to give you a tour. Mind if I do that? Really, your questions are better suited for Herman.”
I would probably be seeing a lot more of Sunny, so there was no sense in pushing it for now. I nodded, kept my mouth shut, and behaved for the rest of the tour. Besides, she was right. I would never get a straight answer about Herman from anyone other than him.
6
About an hour later, we concluded our tour and she escorted me back to Herman’s office on the executive level. I got the impression that this dog didn’t have much of an appetite for secrets, or privacy, because he seemed really into this whole glass wall thing. His office was even worse. He was in a corner of the floor, but he wasn’t satisfied with having just two glass walls. Instead, the entire room was surrounded by glass. Guess he just hadn’t figured out how to have glass ceilings and floors. I was already feeling a little sick looking into his office from the outside. Glad I had a light breakfast.
We didn’t immediately go inside, because Herman was entertaining guests. I kept inching my way closer to the wall, despite the disapproving look forming in Sunny’s eyes. Eventually, my back was up against the wall, and I could hear their conversation plain as day. They were arguing over the loss of an account. Both dogs were trying to blame the other for the mistake, and Herman was getting frustrated. They cared about who was to blame, about who would get canned. Herman just cared about the dough. Seemed consistent with what I learned so far.
“Come inside please, would you, Mr. Trigger?”
The voice startled me, and when I turned around, I could see also it startled his guests. Their backs had been facing me, and my back had been facing the entire room. I gave the collar of my jacket a quick tug to adjust it, nodded to Sunny, and then to him. I opened the door and stepped inside, nodding to the two dogs still twisted around in their chairs watching me.
“Detective, I wondered if you might help us settle a matter. I trust I don’t need to get you up to speed about our discussion here, except for maybe some background and what little we may have discussed before you completed your tour. Just this morning I received a phone call from a very important client. He stated that he regretted to inform me that due to a recent negative interaction with one of my investment bankers, he would pull his account and take his business to one of my competitors. He didn’t wish to name any names or get into any specific details.
“He’s a young cat who recently opened a cannery in partnership with Regal Beagle, Mr. Rick’s food and beverage company, specifically to preserve his strawberries he imports from outside the city. To prove himself to Mr. Rick, he decided not to accept the blank check he’d offered him to buy the business. Rather, he wished to grow it himself in exchange for being able to keep a larger share of it. The controlling share, I’m sure, much to Mr. Rick’s disappointment. My bank has helped him tremendously in this effort, but due to him being a high-risk client initially, interest rates had to be high. I still undercut my competitors to offer him a most competitive rate. Though the rate may be technically competitive, detective, let me stress that we were making a lot of money from this client with each monthly payment, and likely would have continued to do so for quite some time, as I don’t suspect he’s even close to his growth potential yet. Just last week he expressed interest to one of my investment bankers about purchasing a larger property closer to Rick’s principal building. So, understand my extreme disappointment to find that he has closed his accounts and will secure his future loans elsewhere. I brought in these two for an explanation, as they are the only two aside from myself that he has ever interacted with. But neither of them are comfortable being honest with me, and since solving mysteries is your forte and not mine, I wondered if you might help with the matter. Don’t worry, it’ll be considered a paid consultation. A generous added expense on your part.”
While the two dogs had turned to listen to Herman as he spoke, they now contorted themselves in their chairs again, eying me with equally horrified expressions. “You both know who I am now. Now it’s your turn,” I said, circling around the desk to stand beside Herman.
The chubby terrier to my left spoke up first.
“Name’s Chop. First, let me just-”
“Yeah, yeah. And you?” I pointed to the slightly less chubby terrier to my right.
“I’m Gob. I’ll tell you this whole-”
“Right, well anyway, my suggestion would be to investigate. Maybe hire a private detective who isn’t already working on another case, since the decent ones only work on one at a time.”
Herman tried to stifle a chuckle, but failed. “Fair enough. I’ll deal with these two later.” He motioned for both dogs to leave. They all but tripped over each other to be the first dog in the room to do what they were told.
“I suspect you have questions for me,” he said, once they closed the door.
7
“Not going to take a seat?” he asked.
“Prefer to stand.”
He grinned and relaxed further back into his chair. “Suit yourself.”
“Nice place you’ve got here,” I said.
“Thank you. You know, your place wasn’t so bad either. New building, right?”
“You noticed?”
“Sure did. It pays in my profession to notice things like that. I wish you and I had met a while back. I would’ve made you a good deal in financing the construction.”
I laughed. “It may surprise you, Herman, but I wrote the check for it, one payment in full.”
His ears perked up, and he stretched his eyes open. “No kidding? Bravo. I’m sure a project like that costs a lot less than in the Black District, but that still had to have taken a hunk of change.”
“It did, but I’m sure you already know that since I have an account with this bank. I’m guessing you already had me checked out, and you know all about my history with the bank, and my account balance to the penny. You even know the amount of the check I wrote to the cats who built that building.”
He raised his eyebrows. “Would you find such a background check unreasonable, detective?”
“No, not at all. Just like to remind people I notice things related to my profession too.”
“I like you more and more every time we talk. But it’s getting late so we don’t have a lot of time before dark, we should get to the matter at hand.”
I had to think for a moment to remember what I’d specifically planned to ask him. The spectacle going on when I first came in distracted me from my itinerary. Was that intentional? Certainly wouldn’t surprise me.
There was something I couldn’t quite put my finger on about this dog. I liked Herman well enough, but there was something about him, something I just couldn’t quite grasp in my paw. He reminded me of someone, and I finally remembered who it was: Mr. B. That’s right, the notorious mob leader of the city I helped put behind bars. Sure, I’d only met him that once, but that calm authority he exhibited… they had tha
t in common. They gave you the impression that nothing else was real but them and whatever it was they wanted. It wasn’t just a confidence based on competence. It’s like they possessed the absolute knowledge that the outcomes they desired would come to pass. Even though that one thing was similar, Mr. B was on a whole other level. The thing about Mr. B is not only did he believe it, but he made everyone else believe it too.
Herman twisted his head, hunkering down to look up at me. “Detective?”
My eyes darted up to meet his. “Oh, sorry. Just that something you said reminded me of an old friend of mine. Anyway, I won’t hold you up with small talk.”
Herman nodded. “As I said, I’m at your disposal. Please, take your time.”
“When did you first notice the money going missing?”
Herman placed his paws behind his head, leaning back and looking up at the ceiling. “I suspect the money started going missing somewhere around a year ago.”
I tilted my head. “You suspect?”
Herman sighed, bringing his paws down to clasp them together in front of him, on his desk. “I’m afraid so. I’m a little embarrassed by how long it took us to get a handle on what was happening. But don’t let that fact fool you. We’re typically very good at detecting these kinds of anomalies in this bank. In fact, as far as I’m aware, this is the first time anything like this has happened where it wasn’t caught and dealt with right away.”
“As far as you know?” I pressed.
“I’m afraid so. This whole incident has really rattled my confidence about these matters. Now I can’t say for certain whether it’s happened before, or how often it has happened, or of how much money we think has gone missing. When all this is over, there will need to be some major overhauls in the way we track our transactions, as well as our employees. Particularly those with power within the organization. This incident has made me consider that perhaps I’ve given them a bit too much freedom and trust. Given that, I trust you now understand why none of this can get out to the press or the police. It would destroy this bank’s reputation should word get out.”
