The third week

It is almost boring, apart from the fact that the Police might walk in at any time, having been called in by the Bank or someone. The routine inspection was coming towards the end, but the senior inspectors were more at work finding out staff profiles. The second in command was a jovial, man of the world type by the unusual name of Bill Bayley. I will refrain from making any jokes in case he happens to read this blog, and no doubt he has heard them all his life. I have not heard of him for years, but I believe someone once told me he had retired to Prestatyn, just up the road from me. I cannot remember the details, he must have been talking to me, and he must have raised the question where the missing cash might be hidden. The only thing I remember properly about this is that he and I arrived at my bungalow presumably in my car. The intention. For him to "look over" where I lived. We disturbed our lodger/friend who was inside cleaning. Bill Bayley looked around, went in a bedroom or two, opened a cupboard door here and there. We returned to the Bank. If this was supposed to be a search, will it would'nt have rated high in my book. Perhaps it was just supposed to frighten me. I don't know. But, I did.nt know if my house was the only one they had been to, as far as I knew it was. So that told me that I was near enough the top of the suspects list. It was also about this time that we on the staff realised that something else was missing from the Bank. We had a very large, battered brown suitcase which we used, mainly, for carrying the HVPs (High Value Parcels) to the Post Office, sending surplus cash to Head Office. We used it constantly in the summer, but in November. out of season, not so much. Nothing was kept in it, it was just used as a carring suitcase. But --- it was gone!!! Something else for the inspectors to think about. Mike Owen