3.2 The Paper Trail

The new Human Resources Manager had joined Mauris Bank a little over a month ago, stepping into an executive post with a private office on the top floor. She was a highly qualified professional who had spent her entire career at the Maldives Monetary Authority until 2007, when political pressure forced her to resign. She subsequently joined the State Bank of India before being relocated—complete with a salary increment—to Mauris Bank, which had opened its doors on 4^th May 2008. In just a few weeks, she proved to be one important person to the management of Mauris Bank.

State Bank of India and Mauris Bank maintained close ties, a connection further strengthened by a mutual understanding between the governments of India and Mauritius. Mauris Bank had recently acquired a ten-storey waterfront property in the capital and the operation was scheduled to move there in the coming weeks. Meantime, work was going on at the new building installing panels, partitions, furniture and networks at the new venue.

It was Monday. As the day began, Idania talked to Rosa, a senior treasurer, about the questionable banknotes in Zanat’s possession. Rosa checked them through a counting machine downstairs on the customer floor; every single one was flagged as counterfeit. They climbed to the second floor to utilise a more advanced machine. Facing the Accounts Department was the spacious hall of the Cash Department where Idania worked as a full-time secretary. Rosa fed the bills into the hi-tech detector but it flashed another rejection.

Just as Idania stepped away towards her desk, a petite woman entered the room. She wore a pristine, all-white pantsuit that contrasted sharply with the sea of red uniforms worn by the rest of the staff. She had a small, toned face, radiant cheeks and striking large eyes.

“Hey Zane!” she hailed warmly, “You look like a sixteen-year-old!”

Zanat had dyed her hair last night; fresh colour catching the light. Before Zanat could answer, Rosa cut in, holding up the cash, “She brought in these fake 500-rufiya banknotes.”

Hearing the voice, Idania paused with her hand on her desk drawer, listening intently.

The HRM turned her gaze to Zanat. “Where did you get them?”

“I got them from a friend.” Zanat quivered, her voice laced with sudden anxiety.

“Have you verified these?” the HRM asked Rosa.

“I ran them all through the counterfeit detector,” Rosa replied, “They are absolute fakes.”

It was a deeply embarrassing moment for Zanat. She had brought not just one but three counterfeit notes into the very establishment that employed her, exposing herself directly to Shina; the Human Resources Manager. Because Shina was still new to the organisation, none of the bank employees realised that these three women—Shina, Idania and Zanat—had once been schoolmates.

Shina raised the bill towards the light, holding it with her left hand. Idania slowly drifted back towards the group. Zanat glanced at her friend, then quickly snapped her attention back to Shina.

“Look here,” Shina instructed, inspecting the bill with her naked eye, “this digit here…if you compare it with an authentic five-hundred note, you’ll see the font is incorrect. Every denomination is expressed in a different font in the numeric. Furthermore, this note cannot bear a serial number beginning with the letter D.”

“Why is that?” asked Rosa leaning in.

“It should be a C,” Shina explained lowering the note, “Only the older set printed by Bradbury, Wilkinson & Company carries the prefix D.”

“Then who printed this?” demanded Rosa.

“It’s a fake. A clever imitation of a Thomas de la Rue print, which is the same company, of course.” Shina’s precise pronunciation of “de la Rue” caught a tiny tingle of a chuckle in Zanat’s throat, momentarily breaking her panic. “A different name,” Shina pouted theatrically, “but the font and the serial numbers simply do not match.”

A pin-drop silence fell over the room. Her eyes then drifted over to Idania. “Actually, I came looking for you, Idania. They tell me I shall call you to pack things up there. How are you holding up?”

Idania blinked several times, her long eyelashes sweeping her cheeks. “Cool,” she replied dryly, “Oh, I just realised I lost fifteen hundred bucks last night.”

“I’m afraid so,” Shina echoed, touching Zanat’s hand gently before turning to the treasurer, “Rosa, spare me Idania for a moment, will you?”

The moment Shina walked out of the hall, Zanat quickly snatched the three banknotes from the table. “I’m taking these back.”

“Oh no, you can’t do that!” Rosa cautioned, “I’m required to submit them to the MMA where they destroy counterfeit.”

“I have to get my money back,” she skipped away with the bills.

Rosa stood stunned. She let her take counterfeit out of the bank which was not a lawful practice.

For the next three weeks, Zanat and Murti were lost into ledgers in the Accounts Department. Day by day, pieces of furniture vanished from the floors as movers transported them to the new building, leaving the two of them sitting in a virtually empty hall. Near the end of the transition, the movers finally came for Murti’s executive desk, pulling the chairs out from under their bums. Yet, long after the room was hollowed, the memory remained indelible for Murti—the lingering scent of Zanat’s sweet powder and a sudden prick of attraction that gradually faded into the space.