"Especially if we pulled out the death certificates by accident inside the bank," Deborah said.
Joanna chuckled. "I also think we should start addressing each other with our assumed names. Otherwise we'll forget in front of people and that could be a problem."
"Good point, Prudence," Deborah said with a chuckle of her own.
It was only a ten-minute walk from City Hall to the Charles River Plaza where the local branch of the Fleet Bank was located. For the most part the women were silent while committing the respective Social Security numbers to their memories. When they turned into the Charles River Plaza, Joanna pulled Deborah to a stop.
"Let's discuss this for a moment before we go inside," she said. "We should open these accounts with just a token deposit because we're not going to be able to get this money back out."
"What do you suggest?"
"I don't think it really matters," Joanna said. "How about twenty dollars."
"Fine by me," Deborah said. "But I wouldn't mind hitting the ATM machine on the way in."
"That's not a bad idea either," Joanna said.
Each got several hundred dollars in cash before entering the bank proper. They then went directly to the service desk. Since it was in the middle of the lunch hour, the bank was busy with hospital people from the MGH, and the women had to wait almost twenty minutes before being helped. But setting up the accounts was accomplished quickly since the bank officer whose turn it was to help them was particularly efficient. Her name was Mary. The only minor problem was the lack of any IDs, but Mary solved it by saying they could bring them in the following day. By one o'clock Mary had already excused herself to activate the accounts and get them receipts. Joanna and Deborah were sitting on vinyl chairs facing Mary's desk.
"What if she comes back and says we're dead?" Deborah whispered.
"Then we're dead," Joanna answered. "But that's what we're here for."
"But what are we going to say? We'd have to say something."
"We'll just say we must have been mistaken about the numbers. We'll tell them we'll check them and come back."
"I was enjoying myself a half hour ago," Deborah complained. "Now I'm nervous. We can't tell them a fishy story like that."
"Here she comes!" Joanna said in a forced whisper.
Mary came back clutching the deposit receipts. "I've got you all set up," she reported. "Every thing is just fine." She gave a receipt to each woman along with one of the packets of material sitting on her desk which she'd prepared earlier. "You're all set. Do you have a parking ticket?"
"No, we walked over," Joanna said. For an address the women had given Seven Hawthorne Place, part of the Charles River Park apartment complex behind the hospital.
A few minutes later the women were back out in the May sunshine. Deborah was euphoric. "We did it!" she declared as they walked quickly away from the bank. "I had my doubts there for a minute, but apparently we've got good names and Social Security numbers."
"They're good for now," Joanna said. "But that's going to change sometime in the near future. Let's head back to the apartment, put in a call to the Wingate Clinic, and get the next step out of the way."
"What about a bit of lunch?" Deborah said. "I'm starved. That coffee and pastry we had a little after seven this morning is long gone."
"I could use some food myself," Joanna agreed. "But let's make it quick."
"WINGATE CLINIC," A PLEASANT VOICE SAID CHEERFULLY. It came from the speaker phone in Joanna and Deborah's apartment. The telephone itself was on the couch between the women who were sitting on either side of it. It was two-thirty-five and sun was just beginning to spill onto the hardwood floor through the front windows.
"I'm interested in employment in your institution,' Joanna said. "To whom should I speak?" The women had flipped a coin to see who should make the call. Joanna had won.
"That would be with Helen Masterson, Director of Personnel,' the operator said. "Shall I connect you?"
"Please," Joanna said.
The same elevator music they'd heard the day before drifted out of the phone, but it didn't last long. A strong, deep, woman's voice preempted the Muzak. Both women jumped: "Helen Masterson here. I understand you are looking for employment."
"Yes, both myself and my roommate,' Joanna said as soon as she'd recovered.
"What kind of experience do you and your roommate have?" Helen asked.
"I've had extensive word-processing experience," Joanna said.
"As a student or in a work environment?"
"Both," Joanna said. She'd worked summers during undergraduate school in a Houston law firm with whom her father did a great deal of business.
"Are you college graduates?"
"Yes, indeed," Joanna said. "I've a degree in economics. My roommate, Georgina Marks, was a biology major." Joanna looked over at Deborah who gave her a thumbs-up sign.
"Has she had any laboratory experience?"
Deborah nodded emphatically.
"Yes, she has," Joanna said.
"I must admit you both sound perfect for the Wingate Clinic," Helen said. "How did you hear about us?"
"Excuse me?" Joanna said while making a grimace of consternation for Deborah's benefit. It was a question she'd not anticipated. Deborah fumbled for the pad and pencil on the floor. While Helen repeated the question, she quickly wrote: "A friend saw an ad."
"Word of mouth," Joanna said. "A friend of ours saw an ad."
"Was that a newspaper ad or a radio ad?"
Joanna hesitated. Deborah shrugged.
"I'm not sure," Joanna said.
"Well, it doesn't matter except to know which is more effective," Helen said. "Do you live here in Bookford?"
"We currently live in Boston," Joanna said.
"So you are willing to reverse commute."
"That's the plan, at least for the time being. We'd be driving out together."
"Why do you want to work out here in Bookford?" Helen asked.
"We need to find work quickly," Joanna said. "We heard your organization was in need of help. We just got back from a rather long stay in Europe, and frankly we need the money."
"It sounds like we can help each other," Helen said. "I can either fax you or E-mail you employment questionnaires which you can fill out and send back the same way you got it. Which way would you prefer?"
"E-mail is fine," Joanna said. She gave Helen her E-mail address which conveniently had no association with her name.
"I'll E-mail forthwith," Helen said. "Meanwhile I think we should go ahead and schedule interviews. What would be a convenient date for you and your roommate? Just about any day this week or next week is available."
"The sooner the better," Joanna said. Deborah nodded. "In fact, tomorrow would be fine for us if it works for you."
"By all means," Helen said. "I applaud your eagerness. Would ten o'clock be okay?"
"Ten o'clock will be fine," Joanna said.
"Will you need directions?" Helen asked.
"I don't think that will be necessary," Joanna said. "We're quite resourceful."
"We look forward to seeing you tomorrow," Helen said before disconnecting.
Joanna hung up the phone.
"Very smooth!" Deborah commented. "I think we're in."
"So do I," Joanna said. She unplugged the phone and headed over to the computer. "Let's log on so we can get the E-mail as soon as it comes in."
True to her word, Helen had sent the E-mail within minutes of hanging up the phone, and it popped up on the women's computer screen just moments after they logged on. Fifteen minutes later, Joanna and Deborah had filled in their respective employment forms directly on the screen and E-mailed them back to the Wingate Clinic.
"This almost seems too easy," Deborah commented as she shut down the computer.
"Don't jinx us," Joanna said. "You can call me superstitious, but I'm not going to say anything like that until after I get into the Wingate server room. There's too much that can still go wrong."