Mike Shayne Mystery Magazine, Vol. 8, No. 6, May 1961

And, for the first time since he met her, he told her about his boyhood, his mother, his father, and the six-room house he had inherited in an old quiet section of Mount Vernon. He told her about his nest-egg of $17,000, a portion of which was savings but most of which, like the house, was part of his inheritance. He told her about the First National Mercantile Bank situated at 34th Street and 6th Avenue, and about his job as teller.

He told her about Alfred Hodges, now seventy-three years of age, but spry and spirited and capable, president of the bank since he was thirty-four. He told her of the liberal salary standards instituted by Alfred Hodges all of which pertained right up to the present. He told her, as an instance, of the teller’s job. The starting salary was one hundred dollars a week with yearly increases of ten dollars per week until the individual attained a weekly salary of two hundred dollars.

He was now in his seventh year in his teller’s job; his salary was one hundred and sixty dollars a week. And he told her about Robert Allan McKnish’s job as Credit Manager; a job he hoped to get some day, that the job started at two hundred dollars a week with yearly increases of twenty-five dollars a week until a maximum of three hundred and fifty dollars a week was attained.

And she asked, “Does this sort of thing apply in all banks?”

“No,” he said. “Ours is quite special. Mr. Hodges, in his way, is an executive genius. He made these rules, and the Board approved, and he’s stayed with them.”

“What Board?”

“The Board of Directors.”

“Oh, Board of Directors.”

“Are you interested?”

“Sure. Of course. Are you kidding? Go on.”

“Well, whoever comes to work at First National Mercantile knows just what he’s doing and just where he’s going. We have eighty-two employees and it’s a real happy family. And there are long waiting lists of job-applicants. The bank has a wonderful reputation, and so has its personnel. Of course, Mr. Hodges has set very high basic qualifications for each employee — higher standards than in other banks — and the more important the job, the tougher the qualifications for the applicant. But it isn’t all sweetness and light either. Dear Mr. Hodges insists on certain intramural activities that other banks don’t.”

“Like what?”

He told her, as an instance, about the Gun Club. In every bank, certain employees have the use of pistols. They obtain licenses from the Police Department for such use, they are instructed in the mechanics of pistol operation, and that is that. Not so at First National Mercantile. If a teller or a cashier or a vice-president has a gun in his drawer, he must, at the insistence of Mr. Hodges, become proficient in its use. Each one who has a license must be a member of the New York Gun Club, must attend target practice every Thursday evening, and must compete in the pistol shoot every fourth Thursday.

“Did you ever win?” she said.

“I always win,” he said.

“You?”

He chuckled. “I admit I’m not the type. I’m scared to death of a gun. Perhaps that’s why I’m so good. I respect the darned thing” — chuckle again — “with a deadly respect.”

“And what else does your Mr. Hodges insist on?”

“That we go to school, night courses; that is, those of us who want to improve ourselves, who want to move up to higher positions in the bank. And he actually checks the courses, talks with the various instructors, finds out how each of us is doing.”

“Do you go to night school?”

“Yes. Every Monday and Wednesday. Post graduate stuff.”

“Why, are you ambitious?”

“In a way. I have no big dreams. I don’t want to rise very high. Credit Manager, and there I’ll stay. I believe Old Man McKnish is going to retire this year, and I sure have been aiming for that job, right since I went to work there.”

“Any chance, do you think?”

“Yes, I do. Mr. Hodges knows of my dream and desire; and he knows me since I was a little boy. The Board does the appointing, but Mr. Hodges has influence, of course. I have the background and the education, I’ve never been in trouble, I’ve never been in any scandal, I’m practically the head-teller right now, and I am in charge of the most important payrolls.”

“Payrolls?” she said. “Don’t most firms pay by check?”

“A great many do. A great many don’t. There are matters of policy. Anyway, Thursdays and Fridays are my payroll days; when I prepare payrolls.”

“Two days?”

“Fridays there are a lot of little ones. Thursdays, there are five big ones: Martin Aircraft, Hughes Construction, Fairfax Electronics, North American Builders, and Marshall Contractors Corp. They all have plants throughout the Metropolitan area, and on Long Island. They have part-time workers, and over-time, aside from regular employees. It gets quite complicated. They call in their payrolls on Thursday mornings. By then, they have an approximation. They make up the rest from their own office safes.