C H A P T E R • 46
Samantha and Adrianne greeted me at the door to the office.
Samantha announced, “The hard thing about this week’s column was finding a secret everybody doesn’t already know. But I did it.”
“You need to see this,” Adrianne said.
We walked to the production room and found a beautiful front page laid out on the long drafting table. Al was sitting at the other end wearing headphones.
After a long Veterans Day weekend, more than 6 million dollars in oral commitments came in to purchase the assets of Independence National Bank. But the banks where that money would come from will still be closed by the 7:00 A.M. deadline after the holiday. And the FDIC will have to give community leaders time—those extra hours—to convert those letters of credit into cash.
“We won’t technically have the cash in time,” board member Reverend William Garrison said. “But we have the pledges. And since when did banks stop accepting promises?”
The subheads set up the other related articles.
The F.D.I.C. has not found a successor bank that will buy First, after offering it to a bid list of 61 banks. Because of the savings and loan crisis, nobody is rushing to buy a bank.
Kiss and Tell, by Samantha
Rumor has it that accounts at Independence National Bank with balances over $100,000 won’t be insured by the FDIC if the bank folds. They have been insured at other banks that closed. And, also, significantly, separate accounts held by the same depositor will be combined and some of those totals will be way over the insured amount. Such accounts could include nonprofits, community development groups and churches, and the United Negro College Fund. Continued on Page [__].
“Samantha? Why is this running as your gossip column?”
“There’s a New York State law that charities with multiple accounts are trust accounts and each account should be insured for the whole amount.”
“Then if they do this, it’s illegal.”
“Yes. And I can call out an illegal action in my column where it’s not exactly news yet. I’ve done it before.”
Adrianne said, “I agree. We’ve got a page one story. We’re going to run it with Sam’s question mark and rumor-has-it lead.”
I walked the length of the long drafting table that stretched down one side of the suite’s largest room and waited for Al to finish making a cut with the mat knife to place an ad on a half-page.
I nudged his arm.
“What a relief you’re out of jail,” I told him. “We needed you to tighten up this special edition. It looks good.”
“What a relief is right. I think the cops were as surprised as me.”
“Tell me about Heavy and about those movies I saw at your apartment. They had to come from a postproduction house,” I said.
“I spent some time on the coast getting straight. Met some people. You’d be surprised.”
“Was that what Bobby was talking about when I saw you at his black-market factory?”
“Bobby was giving me a tour of what I needed to do to get enough copies produced to make some real money. He needs me to get those movies. His are mostly unwatchable, shot on camcorders with the audience sounds. And I needed him to distribute. He has people in Florida and Texas and Chicago.”
“He said you owed him some money. Is he the loan shark?”
“Sometimes. He’s the only banker that won’t throw a small businessman like me out into the street.”
“What about Heavy?”
“He called himself street muscle. He ran errands for money.”
“Murder?”
“I’m surprised as you. Didn’t know he had it in him.”
“Somebody paid him to hit Cecelia?”
“When you find out who, you’ll know something.”
“So, tell me who. He must have told you.”
“You sound like the police. Like I told them, he figured the only way he was going to get out of it was to man up. And I sure the hell don’t want anybody to think I know who they are.”