The Moneychangers

The crowd in the bank pressed around Edwina.

Someone asked, "Is that true? Do you people have enough money to pay us all?"

"Of course it’s true." Eldwina looked over heads around her and spoke to everyone.

"I’m Mrs. D’Orsey, and I’m a vice-president of First Mercantile American Bank.

Despite any rumors you may have heard, our bank is sound, solvent, and has no problems which we cannot handle.

We have ample cash reserves to repay any depositor in Tylersville or anywhere else."

The smartly dressed woman who had spoken earlier said,

"Maybe that’s true. Or maybe you’re just saying so, hoping we’ll believe it.

Either way, I’m taking my money out today."

"That’s your privilege," Edwina said. Fergus W. Gatwick, watching, was relieved at no longer being the focus of attention.

He also sensed that the ugly mood of moments earlier had eased; there were even a few smiles among those waiting as increasing amounts of money continued to appear.

But less obdurate mood or not, a purposefulness remained. As the process of paying out continued briskly, it was dear that the run on the bank had not been halted.

While it continued, once more like Caesar’s legionaries; the bank guards and escort who had returned to their armored trucks outside, marched in again with still more loaded canvas sacks.

No one who shared that day at Tylersville would ever forget the immense amount of money eventually displayed on public view.

Even those who worked at FMA had never seen so much assembled at a single time before.

On Edwina’s instructions and under Alex Vandervoort’s plan, most of the twenty million dollars brought to fight the bank run was out in the open where everyone could see it.

In the area behind the tellers’ counter, every desk was cleared; from elsewhere in the bank more desks and tables were moved in. Onto them all, great stacks of currency and coin were heaped while the extra staff who had been brought in somehow kept track of running totals.

As Nolan Wainwright expressed it later, the entire operation was "a bank robber’s dream, a security man’s nightmare."

Fortunately, if robbers learned of what was happening, they learned too late.

Edwina, quietly competent and with courtesy to Fergus W. Gatwick, supervised everything.

It was she who instructed Cliff Castleman to begin seeking loan business. Shortly before noon, with the bank remaining crowded and a lengthening line outside,

Castleman carried a chair forward and stood up on it. "Ladies and gentlemen," he announced, "I’d like to introduce myself.

I’m a loan officer from the city, which doesn’t mean a lot except that I have authority to approve loans for larger amounts than are normally dealt with at this branch.

So if any of you have been thinking of applying for a loan and would like a fast answer, now’s the time. I’m a sympathetic listener and I try to help people who have problems.

Mr. Gatwick, who is busy doing other things right now, has kindly said I can use his desk, so that’s where I’ll be. I hope you’ll come and talk to me." A man with a cast on his leg called out, "I’ll be right over, soon’s I get my other money.

Guess if this bank’s going bust I should grab a loan. I’d never have to pay it back"

"Nothing’s going bust here," Cliff Castleman said. He inquired, "What did you do to the leg?" "Fell over in the dark."

"From the sound of you, you’re still in the dark.

This bank is in better shape than either of us.

What’s more, if you borrow money you’ll pay it back or we’ll break the other leg."

There was some laughter as Castleman climbed down from his chair, and later a few people drifted over to the manager’s desk to discuss loans.

But withdrawals continued. The panic eased, but nothing, it seemed neither a show of strength, assurances or applied psychology vould stop the bank run at Tylersville.

By early afternoon it appeared, to despondent FMA officials, that only one question still remained:

How long would it take for the virus to spread?

Alex Vandervoort, who had talked several times by telephone with Edwina, left for Tylersville himself in midafternoon.

He was now even more alarmed than this morning when he had hoped the run could be terminated quickly.

Its continuance meant that, over the weekend, panic among depositors would spread, with other FMA branches certain to be inundated Monday.

So far today, while withdrawals at some other branches had been heavy, nothing comparable to the Tylersville situation had occurred elsewhere.

But clearly that same luck could not hold for long.

Alex went by chauffeured limousine to Tylersville and Margot Bracken rode with him. Margot had concluded a court case earlier than she expected that morning and joined Alex at the bank for lunch. Afterward at his suggestion she stayed on, sharing some of the tensions by then pervading the tower’s 36th floor.

In the car Alex leaned back, savoring the relaxed intenal which he knew would be brief. ‘`This year has been hard for you," Margot said. "Am I showing the strain?"

She reached over, running a forefinger across his forehead gently. "You’ve more lines there. You’re grayer at the temples."

He grimaced. "I’m also older." "Not that much" "Then it’s a price we pay for lining with pressures. You pay it too, Bracken."

"Yes, I do," Margot agreed. ‘What matters, of course, is which pressures are important and if they’re worth the part of ourselves we give to them."

"Saving a bank is worth some personal strain," Alex said sharply. "Right now if we don’t save ours, a lot of people will be hurt who shouldn’t be."

"And some who should?" "In a rescue operation you try to save everybody.

Any retribution can come later."

They had covered ten of the twenty miles to Tylersville. "Alex, are things really that bad?"

"If we have an unstoppable run on Monday," he said, "well have to close.

A consortium of other banks may then get together to bail us out at a price after which they’ll pick over what’s left, and in time, I think, all depositors would get their money.

But FMA as an entity would be finished." "The most incredible part is how it can happen so suddenly." "It points up," Alex said, "what a lot of people, who ought to, don’t fully understand. Banks and the money system; which includes big debts and big loans, are like delicate machinery.

Monkey with them clumsily, let one component get seriously out of balance because of greed or politics or plain stupidity, and you imperil all the others.

And once you’ve endangered the system or a single bank and if word leaks out as usually happens, diminished public confidence does the rest.

That’s what we’re seeing now."

"From what you’ve told me," Margot said, "and from other things I’ve heard, greed is the reason for what’s happening to your bank."

Alex said bitterly,

"That and a high percentage of idiots on our board."

He was being franker than usual but found it a relief.

There was a silence between them until Alex exclaimed, "God! How I miss him."

"Who?" "Ben Rosselli." Margot reached out for his hand. "Isn’t this rescue operation of yours exactly what Ben would have done himself?"

"Maybe." He sighed. "except it isn’t working. That’s why I wish Ben were here." The chauffeur let down the dividing window between the front seat and his passengers.

He spoke over his shoulder. "We’re coming into Tylersville, sir."

"Good luck, Alex," Margot said. Prom several blocks away, they could see a lineup of people outside the branch.

New arrivals were joining it.

As their limousine pulled up outside the bank, a panel truck screeched to a halt across the street and several men and a girl jumped out. On the side of the truck in large letters was WTLC-TV. "Christ!" Alex said. "That’s all we need."

Inside the bank, while Margot looked around her curiously, Alex talked briefly with Edwina and Fergus W. Gatwick, learning from both that there was little if anything more that anyone could do. Alex supposed it had been a wasted journey but had felt the need to come. He decided it would do no harm, and might even help, if he chatted with some of those waiting.

He began to walk down the several lines of people, quietly introducing himself.

There were at least two hundred, a sizable cross-section of Tylersville old, young, middle-aged, some well-to-do, others obviously poorer, women with babies, men in work clothes, some carefully dressed as if for an occasion.