Chapter 14

Leon was sitting at his desk when he spotted the stranger entering the bank. His well-fitted three piece suit and top hat, coupled with his air of confidence gave him away. He was definitely from the city, not in the least a local resident.

Leon immediately thought he was an inspector from the main branch of his bank. While those officials were satisfied enough with his monthly reports to let him manage the bank as he saw fit, they occasionally sent out an official to take a closer look on its activities.

He tried to stay nonchalant as he watched the stranger make his way to the teller. After all, since he ran the bank according to the strict regulations, he believed he had nothing to worry about.

He looked up from his work as the teller approached his desk. “Problem with a customer, Sally?”

“Yes sir,” she replied. “The gentleman at my wicket, he’s enquiring about the account of Winston Conlee. You know, the one writing all those lurid stories? I checked our records and found his account but I’m wondering whether or not I should give the stranger any information.”

Leon sighed. He realized an unannounced inspection of his bank was the least of his worries. A stranger inquiring about Winston Conlee could bring a host of problems.

“I’ll handle it,” Leon told his teller as he rose from his desk.

He motioned the stranger aside for privacy as he didn’t want to create a scene in front of his staff or his customers. “How can I help you sir?”

Leon stared at the business card the stranger offered him and studied the name.

“I’m looking for Winston Conlee. I’ve come all the way from the city to talk to him, only to discover nobody in town knows him. I figure I might have better luck with you. A Mr. Horndecker, the owner of the local paper says Winston banks with you.”

“Well, yes, Mr. Lang. I believe he does have an account with us but I’m afraid I can’t say much more about him, after all, we have to respect his right to privacy.”

“I understand but I’d like to know if you think he’s local. Surely you must have met him when he established an account with your bank?”

“Not exactly. There are circumstances when we don’t actually have direct contact with a customer. Take Winston Conlee for example. In his case the bank received a telegram instructing us to set up for an account for him. Of course, we followed his request. Shortly after the account was opened all those wild stories started appearing in the paper and Mr. Horndecker began depositing money into his account. Sorry, but that’s about all I’m allowed to divulge about him, except for the fact he also bought a mail box.”
Lang nodded. “This Conlee is the most mysterious fellow I’ve ever met. Would you mind if I left my card in his box?” He didn’t even wait for a reply, just scribbled $100 per story on the back of it before presenting it to Leon.

Leon stared at the sum and gulped, wondering how much trouble Abby had gotten herself into. He would have to talk to her as soon as the bank closed.

“Wow, $100, sounds like you put a bounty on poor Winston’s head,” Leon laughed as he accepted the card. “I’ll see that your card is put in his mail box. Anything else I can help you with?”

“No, but the more I enquire about this Conlee fellow the greater my suspicion grows that somebody in this town is not telling me the complete truth. I was a reporter before I became an editor and I keep asking myself one important question. Why would somebody with Winston’s obvious writing skills and unique story-telling ability wish to remain anonymous when all he has to do to become famous is to step forward and prove his authorship? It doesn’t make sense to me. Does it make sense to you?”

Leon had a difficult time keeping a straight face. He shook his head. ‘Well, no, but then you never know about people. Some may be just too shy to be in the spotlight, while others may have their own personal reasons for remaining out of the limelight.”

Lang nodded and smiled. “Well, since I’ve come all this way and hate to have made the trip for nothing I’ll hang around and get a meal at the restaurant. Hopefully Winston will show up before I leave. Who knows, once word gets around, maybe somebody will turn him in for that $100 bounty.”

As Leon watched Lang exit the bank and make his way down the street towards the restaurant, he was tempted to rush out of his bank and drag Abby right out of her classes. However, his common sense overcame his penchant for any rash actions. He’d have to would wait until school was out and meet her at their usual spot.