Neville, Katherine - A Calculated Risk by Neville Katherine

Author:Neville, Katherine [Neville, Katherine]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781504013680
Publisher: Open Road Media Mystery & Thriller
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

WEDNESDAY, DECEMBER 9

At nine o’clock the morning of December 9, a man in a frayed tweed jacket and burgundy sweater entered the doors of Merrill Lynch. He was wearing mud-spattered sneakers with bicycle clips around the calves of his trousers, and carrying a clipboard with sheets of scribbled paper attached. He went up to the receptionist’s desk.

“Pickup for Depository,” he said.

“Are you a courier?” she asked, and Tor nodded. “Next floor up,” she told him.

Tor came off the elevator on the next floor. There was a long hallway with a door at the end that said DELIVERY. He went down and pushed the buzzer, and the door unlocked with a click.

“Pickup for Depository?” Tor said to the man at the window.

“Okay, he’s here!” yelled the man over his shoulder. “Come on, step on it—we haven’t got all day. Anything else for A through G? I haven’t got H through M yet. S through Zed, you’re okay.…”

He was glancing through the piles on his desk as he ticked off securities on a ticket before him.

“Okay, I guess that’s it,” he told Tor.

They both went through the securities and checked off the numbers. Tor dropped the securities into the canvas satchel the man handed him. He gave the man a receipt and the man initialed his clipboard. Tor picked up the satchel.

“You handle these securities alphabetically?” asked Tor.

“Yeah, what’s it to you?” said the man behind the window.

“If I have to drop some off here, should I bring them to you?”

“Nope. Those go to receiving—next floor up.”

“Thanks,” said Tor. As he turned to leave he added to himself, “The left hand knoweth not what the right hand doeth.”

“What’s that?” said the man, already preoccupied.

“A biblical quotation,” said Tor as the door clicked shut behind him.

Without biblical aid, they had no way to reconcile the daily arrivals and departures of securities like these he held in his bag, he thought as he went back down the hall. If things were handled and filed in so many places, it would be hard enough just to reconcile the gross dollars that moved in and out the door. Tor smiled.

The streets outside were slushy and dirty with snow. Tor walked over to the bicycle and threw the canvas satchel into one of the pannier-type baskets slung over the back of the frame. He unlocked the bicycle from the rack and rode away through the steel-and-concrete canyons of Wall Street.

An hour later, covered with mud and laden with many such canvas satchels, the bicycle moved laboriously through heavy traffic to the subway entrance at Wall Street.

Tor pedaled wearily to the rack at the east entrance, locked his bicycle to the rack, and hoisted the panniers over his shoulder. Groaning a little beneath the weight, he descended the steps into the subway.

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