The Moneychangers by Arthur Hailey

endured.
    On the way home, Estela skipped happily along, one small hand in Juanita's. In her other hand Juanita carried Estela's painting, carefully rolled up. In a little while, in the apartment, they would have their evening meal and afterward they usually played and laughed together. But Juanita would find it difficult to laugh tonight.
    Her earlier terror deepened as she considered for the first time what might happen if she lost her job. The probability, she realized, was strong.
    She knew, too, that it would be hard to find work elsewhere. No other bank would hire her and other employers would want to know where she had worked before, then would find out about the missing money and reject her.
    Without a job, what would she do? How could she support Estela?
    Abruptly, stopping on the street, Juanita reached down and clasped her daughter to her.
    She prayed that tomorrow someone would believe her, would recognize the truth. Someone, someone. But who?
    9
    Alex Vandenoort, also, was abroad in the city.
    Earl ier in the afternoon, returning from the session with Nolan Wainwright, Alex had paced his office suite, seeking to place recent events in true perspective. Yesterday's announcement by Ben Rosselli was a major cause for reflection. So was the resultant situation in the bank. So, too, were developments, within recent months, in Alexis personal life.
    Pacing back and forth twelve strides one way, twelve the other was an.old established habit. Once or twice he had stopped, re-examining the counterfeit Keycharge credit cards which the security chief had allowed Alex to bring away. Credit and credit cards were additionally a part of his preoccupation not only fraudulent cards, but genuine ones, too.
    The genuine variety was represented by a series of advertising proofs, also on the desk, and now spread out. They had been prepared by the Austin Advertising Agency and the purpose was to encourage Keycharge holders to use their credit and their cards increasingly. One announcement urged:
    WHY WORRY ABOUT MONEY?
    USE YOUR KEYCHARGE CARD
    AND
    LET US WORRY FOR YOUI
    Another claimed:
    BILLS ARE PAINLESS
    WHEN YOU SAY
    "PUT IT ON MY KEYCHARGE "
    A third advised:
    WHY WAIT?
    YOU CAN AFFORD TOMORROW'S DREAM
    TODAY!
    USE YOUR KEYCHARGE
    A half dozen others were on similar themes. Alex Vandervoort was uneasy about them all. His unease did not have t o be translated into action. The advertising, already approved by the bank's Keycharge division, had merely been sent to Alex for general information. Also, the over-all approach had been agreed on several weeks ago by the bank's board of directors as a means to increase the profitability of Keycharge which like all credit-card programs sustained losses in its Intel, launching years.
    But Alex wondered: Had the board envisaged a promotional campaign quite so blatantly aggressive?
    He shuffled the advertising proofs together and returned them to the folder they had arrived in. At home tonight he would reconsider them and he would hear a second opinion, h e realized probably a strong one from Margot. Margot.
    The thought of her melded with the memory of Ben Rosselli's disclosure yesterday. What had been said then was a reminder to Alex of life's fragility, the brevity of time remaining, the inevitability of endings, a pointer to the unexpected always close at hand. He had been moved and saddened for Ben himself; but also, without intending to, the old man had revived once more an oft-recurring question: Should Alex make a fresh life for himself and Margot? Or should he wait? And wait for what? For Celia?
    That question, too, he had asked himself a thousand times.
    Alex looked out across the city toward where he knew Celia to be. He wondered what she was doing, how she was. There was a simple way to find out.
    He returned to his desk and dialed a number which he knew by heart. A woman's voice answered, "Remedial Center."
    He identified himself and said, "I'd like to talk with Dr.