Octavus Roy Cohen

“ They spoke with simulated casualness.
“Good morning, Phyllis.”
“Good morning, Cliff.”
That was all. Yet, save for those first glances, they avoided each other's eyes. The oldish-young paying teller sorted out the amount of her pay roll. And then, working discreetly, swiftly and dexterously, he piled beside it a small stack of new bills. In that stack of bills was a hundred thousand dollars; one thousand one-hundred-dollar bank notes. Once he permitted his eyes to rove restlessly about the lobby. ”

“ It was absurd to doubt Clifford Wallace. Two detectives had shadowed him meticulously. The orderly existence of the chief paying teller was unaltered. He went his way serenely.
To Wallace it seemed more than worth the trouble. Lying in the vaults of the City Trust was one hundred thousand dollars in cash, an amount sufficient to yield seven thousand income invested with moderate acumen. That meant leisure and ease for himself and Phyllis through life. He did not want anything more. He knew that he would never again be tempted to crime ”

“ Jamieson and Burton—well, Cliff knew just what they were thinking. He’d always know what they were thinking. But Hanvey—never. He didn’t even know that Hanvey was thinking. He was an element which the paying teller had not foreseen. Frank suspicion was easy to combat. Through his head there flashed the shibboleth of the Bankers’ Protective Association: “We get a man if it takes a lifetime—even though he has stolen only a dollar. It’s the principle of the thing.” ”

“ Sooner or later he'd learn. How, Cliff didn’t know. But no scheme is so perfect that it can stand the test of unflagging and unceasing surveillance. And when he did learn—Cliff shuddered. He knew full well what they did to crooked bank employes. Robert Warren would be hard in such a situation—very hard, merciless.
Then came another big pay-roll day, and Phyllis' weekly visit with the modest check from her firm. This time Hanvey fell into line behind her. Cliff saw him coming, and his face blanched. ”

“ Above everything, the bank was not desirous of a scandal. In the absence of sufficient evidence to convict they'd permit him his freedom. And the perfect normalcy of his life would convince them speedily that he was free from guilt.
He reached the bank the following morning at precisely his regular time, not a minute early or a minute late. He held a brief conference with the three assistant paying tellers and apportioned to each his quota of cash from the vault, which was a part of his individual cage. Then quite phlegmatically he answered a summons to the office of the president. ”

“ And then the feminine side of the girl flooded to the surface. “Cliff dear, you're so—so hard!”
That pleased him. He wanted to be hard, cultivated a gelid philosophy.
“Sentiment serves no man well, Phyllis. My hardness has made possible financial ease for us—and consequent contentment. I have no conscience. Neither has the average man. Conscience is the fear of being caught. We are all inherently immoral. It was not wrong for the primitive man to steal. He took what he could get away with. Right and wrong are products of legislation, of artificial ethical culture. They are not part of us ”

“ Medium build, dapper, dynamic, with blazing eyes and a competent manner. He liked Jamieson, knew that he would know how to cope with him. Jamieson was a practical detective, and Jamieson was, there in the rôle of a friend. It was most decidedly to the interest of the bonding company to establish his innocence. Burton, too, radiated efficiency. He was tall and broad and had deep-set brown eyes which looked out keenly from under heavy lashes. He was there to convict, but Cliff did not fear him. Burton, like Jamieson, was too normal a man to inspire apprehension. ”

“ Jamieson and Burton both believe the money never got to the bank. And Hanvey just sits around like a hoot owl at noon and does nothing. It's Hanvey I'm afraid of. He knows! The only thing he doesn’t know is how!”
Two more weeks passed. Wallace's hope that Hanvey would depart proved ill-founded. The big, awkward man was there at eight o'clock every morning, and there he remained until the books were closed at night. He spoke to nobody save in the most casual way. Every other employe of the bank came to take him for granted. ”

“ The minute you walked through those revolving doors with that hundred thousand in your bag I knew that we were safe. The scheme is successful because of its very simplicity. We are to go ahead in our normal ways. There is to be no variation whatsoever in our way of living. In a year we will marry. ”

“ That was the beginning. Hanvey during the days that followed did absolutely nothing. Jamieson and Burton, on the other hand, worked busily and thoroughly. They pored over the list of customers for whom checks had been cashed on the day of the money's disappearance. And finally they came to the pay-roll check of Sanford Jones & Co. They called Cliff into conference with them, Burton doing the questioning.
“Who presented the Jones company check, Mr. Wallace?”
Cliff steeled himself to impassivity. “Miss Phyllis Robinson.”
“You are acquainted with her?”
“Yes. We happen to be secretly engaged.” ”

“ He pulled up a chair and seated himself, after having first closed the door of the president's office.
“Mr. Warren”—his voice was steady and incisive, giving no hint of the emotional strain under which he labored—“I have just checked over the cash. I am precisely one hundred thousand dollars short.” ”

“ So much for that. The girl had undoubtedly gone straight from the bank to her office. The Jones cashier insisted that she delivered the satchel to him personally. Jamieson and Burton then visited the banks of the city and its suburbs. The Third National was the largest in the district and they went meticulously down the line in the order of importance. At the City Trust they were informed that Phyllis Robinson rented a safety-deposit box. An inspection of her card disclosed the fact that she had not visited the box in two months. ”