16

  Michel had authorised Chad to monitor all credit card operations, but the one Chad was most interested in was the toll-free number of the cards department. That was the number through which customers could access accounts, and, far more pertinently, cancel Credit Shield Insurance subscriptions. He was wired to be able to listen in to any conversation in real time, while seated in the comfort of his office.

  The boys of the Referrals Cell were often at his office, as he was sort of desk-bound, listening in on a speakerphone, much of the day. Floor-7 was served by office boys from the floor below, so it was comfortable enough, what with tea, coffee, cokes and snacks provided for.

  One morning, all three friends came in and sat around gloomily, listening, sipping coffees, and keeping an eye on the television set Chad had installed to alleviate his boredom.

  “We’ll still be able to visit him here,” said Jamal morosely.

  “Who knows how he treats outsiders?” mocked Larry. “Once we’re out, he’ll have new buddies.”

  “Why? Where are you guys going?” asked Chad.

  “I told you last week. You weren’t paying attention, I think.” Larry was depressed. “Loans Department has made room in its premises in the green glass building. We have to shift next week.”

  “Maybe Chad can help,” said Jamal. “He knows the big bosses.”

  “And what should he tell the big bosses?” snorted Bashir. “That Citizenbank must function so he can sit with his buddies? A complete watani is a complete fool. New African saying.” They all laughed.

  “Well, maybe I can help,” said Chad, after a while. “I’ve read or heard of someone who fixed a similar problem. If it works, maybe I can help you guys stay here. Not by talking to any bosses, but it may be possible. Who’s your department head?”

  “That shit, Malhotra, the short Indian bastard,” said Larry. “You’ve met him. Comes round once a month to keep an eye on us. He’s the Country Manager of the Loans Department.”

  “Asshole, is he?” asked Chad.

  “An asshole is a shitting and farting aperture, unless surrounded by a woman’s ass,” said Bashir, making them laugh, then promptly becoming engrossed in graphic images, of an outrage being silently reported on the television.

  Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

  “If you let me have his full name and designation, I might be able to fix it. And his fax number.”

  “Here.” Larry wrote it on Chad’s whiteboard.

  It was all quiet on the Credit Shield Insurance front. A few telephone enquiries were coming in, casual questions from people who had read the whole package, but Warner’s dread-filled premonition of letters to editors went unrealised. No riotous queues of agitated customers stood at counters, demanding explanation - and there were no cancellations.

  “Amazing, absolutely amazing,” said Warner, when he ran into Michel in a corridor. “Exactly as Chad predicted. Cardholders really don’t read anything you guys send out, huh?”

  “We’ve finished them off, George, we’ve made them immune.”

  “What the heck are you gonna do when you want them to actually read something?”

  “We never want dumbfucks to read anything.”

  A day after Larry and the boys had complained about being shunted off to their new office, Chad sent an unnecessarily aggressive letter to Malhotra.

  As you are well aware, Loans Department has been occupying an office on floor-7, the very floor I have moved into, and earmarked for my department. I am unable to make any office plan because of the shortage of space, the exact space occupied by the Referrals Cell office. I do not understand why you must maintain an office on my floor, as surely you have sufficient space in your own premises. I demand that you immediately relocate the Referrals Cell office and vacate the floor without delay. And so on.

  He got an immediate response from Malhotra. It was an equally aggressive letter, telling him to fuck off. The Referrals Cell office will not move, and your section must make do with whatever space it has found, because our department too is growing rapidly, and maybe you should consider relocating your office to some other building.

  Larry and the others were with him almost immediately, before the reply had come through on the fax. Malhotra had called, and told them to stay put, and, if Chad made any trouble, they were to refer the matter to him, as he was more than capable of fucking the shit out of any American who thought he could be bossed about.

  They laughed their heads off. “He who does a good deed, must be well rewarded in this life itself. Old jungle saying,” intoned Bashir.

  “Man, you’re one of us,” agreed Jamal. Even Larry was laughing. They would retain their beloved office.

  Chad never responded to Malhotra’s letter, and floor-7 disappeared into limbo. The bank considered it taken by Loans Department, which thought it had been earmarked for Chad’s section, and that it was fighting a rearguard action to hold onto its outpost in enemy territory, and Chad, to further confuse the issue, actually did lay claim to the floor, informing Properties Department that his section was in the process of expansion, and that floor-7 would suit him nicely. And nobody ever figured out what was what.

  A week after despatch of the first statements containing the Credit Shield Insurance charge, Michel ordered the shredding of all remaining leaflets. An explanation was verbally given - George Warner, having seen the leaflet, thought its quality substandard, reflecting poorly on the bank’s image.

  That inconspicuous leaflet would never ever be seen again.