Lester crowed, ‘Well, it wasn’t easy, but I did it for you, Lureen.’
A warm, appreciative smile lit Lureen’s face. ‘You’re just too wonderful.’
‘Yes, sir, got ’em right here.’ Lester opened a drawer, found the box of cheques he had carefully put away, and handed it to her. ‘There you are. Four hundred blank cheques. Will that be enough?’
‘Oh, more than enough, unless Mr Romano goes on a cheque-writing spree.’ She looked into Lester’s eyes and sighed, ‘You saved my life.’
Lester felt a pleasurable stirring in his groin. ‘I believe people have to be nice to people, don’t you, Lureen?’
‘You’re so right, Lester.’
‘You know, you should open your account here. I’d take real good care of you. Real good.’
‘I just know you would,’ Tracy said softly.
‘Why don’t you and me talk about it over a nice quiet dinner somewhere?’
‘I’d surely love that.’
‘Where can I call you, Lureen?’
‘Oh, I’ll call you, Lester.’ She moved away.
‘Wait a min –’ The next customer stepped up and handed the frustrated Lester a sackful of coins.
In the centre of the bank were four tables that held containers of blank deposit and withdrawal slips, and the tables were crowded with people busily filling out forms. Tracy moved away from Lester’s view. As a customer made room at a table, Tracy took her place. The box that Lester had given her contained eight packets of blank cheques. But it was not the cheques Tracy was interested in: it was the deposit slips at the back of the packets.
She carefully separated the deposit slips from the cheques and, in fewer than three minutes, she was holding eighty deposit slips in her hand. Making sure she was unobserved, Tracy put twenty slips in the metal container.
She moved on to the next table, where she placed twenty more deposit slips. Within a few minutes, all of them had been left on the various tables. The deposit slips were blank, but each one contained a magnetized code at the bottom, which the computer used to credit the various accounts. No matter who deposited money, because of the magnetic code, the computer would automatically credit Joe Romano’s account with each deposit. From her experience working in a bank, Tracy knew that within two days all the magnetized deposit slips would be used up and that it would take at least five days before the mix-up was noticed. That would give her more than enough time for what she planned to do.
On the way back to her hotel, Tracy threw the blank cheques into a rubbish bin. Mr Joe Romano would not be needing them.
Tracy’s next stop was at the New Orleans Holiday Travel Agency. The young woman behind the desk asked, ‘May I help you?’
‘I’m Joseph Romano’s secretary. Mr Romano would like to make a reservation for Rio de Janeiro. He wants to leave this Friday.’
‘Will that be one ticket?’
‘Yes. First class. An aisle seat. Smoking, please.’
‘Round trip?’
‘One way.’
The travel agent turned to her desk computer. In a few seconds, she said, ‘We’re all set. One first-class seat on Pan American’s Flight seven twenty-eight, leaving at six-thirty P.M. on Friday, with a short stopover in Miami.’
‘He’ll be very pleased,’ Tracy assured the woman.
‘That will be nineteen hundred and twenty-nine dollars. Will that be cash or charge?’
‘Mr Romano always pays cash. COD. Could you have the ticket delivered to his office on Thursday, please?’
‘We could have it delivered tomorrow, if you like.’
‘No. Mr Romano won’t be there tomorrow. Would you make it Thursday at eleven A.M.?’
‘Yes. That will be fine. And the address?’
‘Mr Joseph Romano, Two-seventeen Poydras Street, Suite four-zero-eight.’
The woman made a note of it. ‘Very well. I’ll see that it’s delivered Thursday morning.’
‘Eleven sharp,’ Tracy said. ‘Thank you.’
Half a block down the street was Acme Luggage Store. Tracy studied the display in the window before she walked inside.
A clerk approached her. ‘Good morning. And what can I do for you this morning?’
‘I want to buy some luggage for my husband.’
‘You’ve come to the right place. We’re having a sale. We have some nice, inexpensive –’
‘No,’ Tracy said. ‘Nothing inexpensive.’
She stepped over to a display of Vuitton suitcases stacked against a wall. ‘That’s more what I’m looking for. We’re going away on a trip.’
‘Well, I’m sure he’ll be pleased with one of these. We have three different sizes. Which one would –?’
‘I’ll take one of each.’
‘Oh. Fine. Will that be charge or cash?’
‘COD. The name is Joseph Romano. Could you have them delivered to my husband’s office on Thursday morning?’
‘Why, certainly, Mrs Romano.’
‘At eleven o’clock?’
‘I’ll see to it personally.’
As an afterthought, Tracy added, ‘Oh … would you put his initials on them – in gold? That’s J. R.’
‘Of course. It will be a pleasure, Mrs Romano.’
Tracy smiled and gave him the office address.
At a nearby Western Union office, Tracy sent a paid cable to the Rio Othon Place on Copacabana Beach in Rio de Janeiro. It read: REQUEST YOUR BEST SUITE COMMENCING THIS FRIDAY FOR TWO MONTHS. PLEASE CONFIRM BY COLLECT CABLE. JOSEPH ROMANO, 217 POYDRAS STREET, SUITE 408, NEW ORLEANS, LOUISIANA, USA.
Three days later Tracy telephoned the bank and asked to speak to Lester Torrance. When she heard his voice, she said softly, ‘You probably don’t remember me, Lester, but this is Lureen Hartford, Mr Romano’s secretary, and –’
Not remember her! His voice was eager. ‘Of course I remember you, Lureen. I –’
‘You do? Why, I’m flattered. You must meet so many people.’
‘Not like you,’ Lester assured her. ‘You haven’t forgotten about our dinner date, have you?’
‘You
