7

  Bob Kerry arrived on Tuesday, 23 February 1999, having flown in from Cairo, headquarters of Citizenbank’s North-African operations. A creature of habit, he always put up at the Ramada Hotel in Dubai. It was, some years ago, one of the best downtown hotels, but had begun going to seed, especially when compared to swank new hotels now routinely springing up across the city. However, it was walking distance from Citizenbank.

  Warner and Chamoun both begged off going out that night. Picking Kerry up at Michel’s office, Chad was shocked to hear he wanted to visit nightspots after dinner. Chad asked him, slyly, which type of nightlife, and Warner, much to Chad’s amazement, jumped in and said the Cyclone, a nightclub catering only to hookers and whoremongers. Kerry, upon seeing the astonishment on Chad’s face, said, “Don’t be surprised, Chad. Everyone does it.” Warner and Michel burst into laughter. And so, after dinner they went to the Cyclone and picked up a nice young Russian hooker apiece.

  Lunch, the next day, was with Warner and Michel. Chad thought that Warner was a bit irritable. After lunch, they convened in the boardroom.

  “This is a secret meeting, gentlemen,” began Kerry, “but it’s not a rebellion.” He tried to raise a laugh, but the Dubai bosses stared stonily at him. “It’s a meeting sanctioned by the top authorities of Citizenbank. Although it’s secret, it is an official, formal and decision-making meeting. Action will be taken on decisions made here. Our discussions will be reported to Carl Snyder, and he will report to the board.”

  “In that case, we’d better call in a secretary to take minutes,” said Warner. He was, indeed, a little short, the reason being Chad’s presence. Take it he must, as New York could send anyone with any brief, but he resented the fact, the point now being driven home, that his authority could be usurped and that someone would be placed in his territory without consulting him, and, to rub salt into his wounds, actually have him reporting directly to New York.

  “No, George, no secretary,” said Kerry. “And no minutes. We must only talk it through. We have to remember and do whatever we decide upon. It’s a new, needless to say, highly secret project, and he,” indicating Chad, “is the man in charge of implementation. We’re the guiding team, the guidance committee, as we call it. We’ll exchange views, throw ideas back and forth, make our minds up, and Chad will implement. Don’t look doubtful, George. I’m sure you’ll be as convinced, as we in New York are, of the merits of this program. You’ll see. Shall Chad explain? Is that okay with you?”

  Warner and Michel looked like they objected, but nodded okay.

  Chad began. “Citizenbank has decided to introduce a new product in the credit card sector. It’s a one hundred percent original product ,absolutely unique to us, and it copies no existing program. We’ve been busy, here and in New York, and much of the idea has already been worked out. The name has been decided upon after considerable thought - Credit Shield Insurance.

  “This is an insurance scheme of great benefit to both customer and bank, as it will insure outstanding balances on credit cards. Of course, cardholders must subscribe and pay, but the charge is small, almost insignificant - four units monthly per thousand units of outstanding balance, or, in other words, $4 for every $1,000. Only on outstanding amounts, please note. Thus, for example, a client with an outstanding amount of $15,000 will be charged $60, and if the following month he has brought his outstanding down to $8,000, he will be charged $32. So whenever his outstanding is zero, he will not be charged anything at all. Simple, easy and cheap.

  “We come to the benefit. The entire outstanding amount, of subscribers to Credit Shield Insurance, will be waived in the event of death or disability. Insurance cover will be applicable in cases of major disability only, something that incapacitates a person permanently.

  “Subscribers to Credit Shield Insurance, to whom death comes by any route, including old age, will have no cause to worry about successors being asked to pay outstanding amounts on their Citizenbank credit cards. The matter of credit card dues will be closed. Also, if there is an accident and the client can no longer, shall we say, walk? The same benefit. No worry about the outstanding amount.”

  “Then why are we planning in such secrecy?” interrupted Warner, bristling. “If this scheme is so clearly beneficial to cardholders, what’s the constraint in going through standard launch procedures? I think we should be publicising it through advertisements, promotions, seminars and press releases. Why the cloak and dagger stuff?” He glared at Kerry, who shifted uncomfortably in his seat.

  “We do anticipate a problem,” said Kerry slowly. “It’s to do with the very nature, the psyche, of people. Try telling someone you will not charge him when he dies, and his response will probably be you cannot.”

  “I wouldn’t care if I died owing money on loans, mortgages, credit cards or whatever,” said Chad. “Most people think that way.”

  “You see?” said Kerry, glad to work Warner’s objections through in tandem with Chad. “That’s the standard response we anticipate. Everyone is not bound to care about those who may survive them. There are so many single parents. People get divorced, life partners die, and children move away. A growing number of people are single now at the time of death, and there are fewer family scenarios for old folks than ever before. But think about it from a credit card point of view. Humans rarely anticipate death, and certainly never consider disability. Most think they will die of old age and without dependants, and screw the debts left behind.”

  This narrative has been purloined without the author's approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.

  “Well, in that case, why bother?” asked Warner, puzzled. “If in any case we won’t get our money when he dies, and we cannot sue him when he’s completely out of action, why concern ourselves with giving him a scheme where we still do not get our money?”

  “That would be true, except that people do die with successors, heirs and dependants,” argued Kerry. “People do die leaving behind money and property. People do die leaving behind small children. Everyone does not go into a coma; sometimes they lose limbs, become paralysed or go insane. Credit Shield Insurance will help them.”

  “I fully agree, absolutely, which means we must return to my earlier question,” reasoned Warner. “Why do we need cloak and dagger methods? Insurance companies are out there, getting people subscribed to schemes, peddling similar benefits and enrolling millions every year - life insurance, medical insurance, disability insurance, education policies, it’s a pretty much endless list. You say that ours is an insurance scheme too. What do you call it? Credit Shield Insurance. People buy insurance, don’t they? I have insurance, you have insurance. There’s nothing dirty about insurance. Why on earth are we plotting in secret? No secretary, no minutes and no reason? Why, when we have nothing to hide? Or do we?” he ended uncertainly, glancing around.

  The secretary entered, after a discreet knock. Warner had to be excused, as some bigwig local had come to meet him, most probably to kill time.

  “Why don’t we take a break?” suggested Kerry. “Maybe you’d better see what’s up in your department, Michel. We don’t want to take up all your time.”

  When alone, Kerry said, “Looks like we have a problem. He seems to be getting ready to resist.”

  “Can he?” asked Chad.

  “Oh, yes. It’s his territory. George has full authority to refuse. He reports to London, and indirectly to the board.” Kerry looked glum. “Besides which, all he has to do to refuse, is tell me a verbal no. There’s no official instruction about Credit Shield Insurance – and there cannot be.”

  “If Warner refuses, you’ll have to have him fired, I guess?”

  “If he absolutely doesn’t agree, maybe yes. It’s one hell of a lousy option. We’ll have to create grounds for dismissal, or transfer him elsewhere, but who says getting rid of George leads to Credit Shield Insurance? His replacement may also reject. There’s that to consider. These people have had successful careers, are having successful careers, and George’s a well-known banker in the region. The regional director of Citizenbank, by definition can’t be an asshole. He’ll get another job in no time, possibly a better one, where he won’t be asked to compromise himself. After all, Credit Shield Insurance must be officially authorised by him, and him alone. In any case, any option other than getting George to play ball will cause delays. Carl’s been building up a good head of steam, and will blow his stack.”

  “Can’t we force it?”

  “Sure, we could force it through,” droned Kerry morosely. “He cannot resist my official instruction on any matter to do with credit cards. Nobody in Citizenbank can, other than Carl. But if I do give an official instruction, everyone’s ass gets automatically covered and my ass gets exposed. Carl will just love that – Bob the fall guy, volunteering his ass. We must somehow convince him.”

  “We’ll let him in on it?”

  “I have to check with Carl. I’ll call him this evening, around six o’clock. Let’s end this meeting before George gets his back up. He has a reputation of taking on all comers when riled, and it won’t bother him if it’s London or New York or both combined.”

  They sat glumly, drinking coffee, thinking.

  The other two returned in due course, and they took up the meeting again.

  “Yes. As I was asking earlier, is there anything to hide?” resumed Warner, still belligerent. “Who has authorised Credit Shield Insurance? You?”

  “No, no, it comes from the highest levels of Citizenbank,” replied Kerry.

  “From Carl Snyder?”

  “Higher. Higher than the board too.”

  “What’s higher than the board?”

  “The main shareholders maybe?” suggested Kerry, avoiding Warner’s eye.

  “The main shareholders are involved operationally?”

  “I think so, but I do not deal with them, hardly know them at all, and in any case I wouldn’t be able to name names,” said Kerry evasively. “Let’s just say that Credit Shield Insurance is authorised.”

  “But of course it’s not authorised,” snapped Warner. “You can’t name names, you do not instruct in writing, you do not keep records, and you have flown in from New York hoping we’ll do this thing by taking responsibility at regional level.”

  As he blurted out his objection, realisation dawned, and Warner saw clearly. He paused and looked around at the others, as if in a daze. “You want me to authorise it, don’t you?” he asked eventually, in a soft voice, speaking almost to himself.

  The room became silent and still. A minute passed. Kerry played with his tie, looking away. Warner finally roused himself. Still speaking softly, he said, “Well, Bob, I’ll tell you one thing. You’ll have to explain very carefully and very thoroughly what it’s all about. I need to know the secret, and why nobody wants to touch it. Carl Snyder has the authority to run any program that takes his fancy, but I do not see any instruction from him. You, too, have the authority, and I don’t see you authorising it. I must understand. If I like it, I’ll go for it. If I do not like it, the matter ends immediately, and there will be no credit whatever-the-fuck insurance in my territory. Tell that to Carl, the board, and the Arab. And the Jews too,” he added, as an afterthought.

  “Fair enough,” said Kerry, in a conciliatory tone. “What’s fair is fair, but I’ll have to speak with Carl to get clearance. Why don’t we all go out and have a drink, and maybe take in a round of golf afterwards?”

  Everybody instantly agreed, and they went to the club nearby on the creek. After a beer, they played seniors versus juniors; seniors won with ease, as Michel and Chad were both lousy golfers.

  On finishing the game, still out on the green, Kerry called Snyder to explain the situation. They spoke long together, after which Snyder spoke briefly with Warner. They did not again talk business that evening. The sun had set while they were playing, and the game had finished in stadium lighting. They returned to the clubhouse, had tea, and called it a day.

  “I’ll know later tonight, Chad,” said Kerry, on the drive back to the Ramada. “Carl will think about it and tell me what to do about the situation here.”

  “Once we tell him, if we tell him, and he refuses to play ball, what the hell do we do? Kill him? If the bank fires him, he’ll sell the story to the media.”

  “Nothing to worry; he asked to hear. He knows he cannot make a story of it. Hell, he’s a senior executive in Citizenbank, very senior.”

  “So?”

  “George’s not a fool, and neither is Carl. It’ll be okay.”