The panic the next day was not softened by the ignorance it revealed. Lou went to the Cascadia Market building early to hear the buzz, to get some useful information about the WECU chaos. Clusters of people were trying to sort out fact from bullshit, sifting through rumors, gossip, scuttlebutt, and verbal mayhem.
Lou found Geezer rummaging through the ADA desk.
“What’s going on?”
Geezer popped his head up. “You hear what happened, Lou? WECU collapsed. Their doors are locked. Everyone’s freaking out.”
“Yes. No. Maybe. And stop.”
“I think ADA’s money is gone.” Geezer was too agitated to listen. “There’s only fifty bucks here. I think we’re screwed.”
“No. Settle down. Our money is safe. It’s all at a different bank.”
“Someone took the checkbook. It’s not here.”
“The checkbook is in the file cabinet. It’s fine.”
“The file cabinet is locked.”
“Of course it is. The key is in the desk. Listen, ADA is fine. Our accounts are with a different bank.”
“They are? How do you know?”
“Read the Daily Journal, Geezer. It’s all in there. The money is safe.”
Geezer opened the Daily Journal, for a change, and sat down to catch up on weeks of entries.
Lou continued. “I’m gonna see what else I can find out about WECU.” He left the office, bypassed the scandalmongers, and went to Switchboard.
Gertrude was the volunteer at the moment. Lou had enjoyed a few conversations with the thin, elderly woman. He liked her blended style of sweet and saucy and how she adjusted her language to the listener. Gertrude was on the phone when Lou walked in.
“…to take the long view, sweetheart. Many of us have faced tough situations…yes, I know it’s scary, sweetheart, but you’re not alone…all right. Hang in there. Call me anytime…Bye-bye.” She hung up and peered through her bifocals at Lou. “Jesus H. Christ, you’d think my own daughter would have more fucking sense than to invest in a Siberian banana farm.”
Lou ignored that. “What’s the latest with WECU?”
Gertrude shook her head in exasperation. “Calls all day about that fiasco. I blame We-fucking-See-You. Bunch of know-nothing do-gooders who hired some hotshot banker named Phineas Sittentapper. Turned out to be a thieving shithead.”
“What do we really know?”
“It’s looking like this boss they hired last spring didn’t waste any time. He’s been siphoning off funds and fudging financial reports from day one. Police say he was last seen boarding a plane for Hawaii. You ask me, the police don’t give a damn.”
“Why not?”
“Because he stole hippie money. It’s not some rich political donor that lost money. So why should they care?”
“How much did he take?”
“They’re still working that out. It’ll take a while. Meanwhile, the National Credit Union Administration has put them on lock down. They need to figure out what their assets are, and what they owe, and how they’re going to cover people’s deposits. If they declare bankruptcy, believe me, it’s the little guys who get stiffed first.”
“Weren’t they insured, though? I thought all banks were insured.”
“They should have been. But that bastard Sittentapper stopped making insurance payments and put the money in his own pocket. So they’re screwed that way, too.”
“So some people are just gonna be out of luck?”
“I’m afraid so. Including me.”
“Yeah. Me, too.”
Lou came home to find the mood inside strangely business-like. Tomoko and Nobody were sitting a the dining table, silently reading through a batch of documents. He watched as Tomoko would read through a page, jot down some notes, then pass the page to Nobody, who did the same. Neither said a word to him.
Clearly, the table was not available for dinner. Lou went to the kitchen and came back with an apple.
“Can I interrupt?”
“No.”
“Yes, of course,” answered Nobody.
“Okay. What’s up?”
“We met those real estate agents. The first two were not impressed by our appearance. Which, admittedly, is an impression we tend to make. The third one was better. He offered us coffee and seemed genuinely interested in us. Or he was just a good salesman. It was hard to say. But Tomoko agreed to work with him. He said he knew about the house that Tomoko wanted to see. The owners moved out months ago. They want to sell it ‘as is’ to whomever can get financing.”
“Is that gonna be an issue?”
“He thought so. He said lenders were reluctant because the place needs a new roof soon, and the upstairs bedrooms are unfinished. Tomoko, care to tell Lou the three magic words you told the agent?”
Tomoko kept reading, but answered. “I have cash.”
“What a difference that made! The agent took us right to the house. He told us about the good things and the bad things and how much they were asking. He also advised Tomoko on how much to offer. And she agreed. So we went back to the agent’s office. He called the owner’s agent, who said he’d get right back to us. A little while later the owner’s agent called back. He said they’d take it.”
“Are you saying that Tomoko just bought a house? That’s it?”
“There are still a lot of papers to sign. The agent gave Tomoko these standard documents so she can get a head start. But, basically, yes. It’s astonishing how quickly things move when people smell money.”
Money. Lou wondered if he’d ever smell his again.