The Bankster (Ravi Subramanian) (10 page)

‘Wait, sir. Let me see if someone from the branch team is available.’ He scampered down to get someone from the RM team. It was around 8.30 p.m. and he was not really hopeful of finding someone. As he had anticipated, no one was there. He was about to return, dejected, when he saw Zinaida entering the office through the side door.

‘Zinaida. . .Zinaida. . .’ he called as he ran towards her. ‘Thank God you came back. I need some help.’

‘Tell me, Bhavin. I’d forgotten something so came back to take it from my drawer.’

‘I have a customer with me who needs to open a new account. Can you help him? He is Vikram sir’s reference.’

Zinaida looked at her watch, raised her eyebrows, considering, and finally nodded. ‘Come, let’s go,’ she said. Bhavin followed her to the floor where Chandrasekhar was waiting.

‘Sir, this is Zinaida. She will help you with your queries,’ Bhavin said as he introduced Zinaida to Chandrasekhar, who nodded and acknowledged him. He looked at Zinaida from top to toe. He was visibly impressed. ‘Hello, how are you?’

‘I am good, sir. How can I help you?’

‘There is a close business associate of mine. We do lots of business with him. He is a bullion trader—deals in gold.’

‘Yes, sir,’ Zinaida knew what a bullion trader did.

‘He is also into logistics management. Currently he banks with a nationalized bank and is looking to move his account. Can you help him?’

‘Of course, sir. But why does he want to move?’

‘Some service issues. A month back, the branch manager changed and from that time onwards he’s been having some problems. Till the earlier branch manager was there, he had no issues; in fact, he was quite happy.’

‘I can understand, sir. But don’t worry, we will take good care of him. If he can give me some time tomorrow, I will meet him and help him open the account.’

‘Madam, he is going out of the country tomorrow evening. If you can meet him tonight, we can close the deal. While Bhavin was away looking for you, I called him. He is coming to Bandra for some work and will be here in twenty minutes.’

Zinaida looked at her watch. ‘Sure sir. I hope he comes in twenty minutes because I have to meet someone for dinner at ten.’

‘Yes, yes, no problem. I will call him again. When I last spoke to him, he was not too far from your branch.’

Zinaida looked at Bhavin. ‘I am down in the branch at my workstation. Call me when he comes in.’ Bhavin escorted her to the stairs. As she was climbing down, Zinaida looked up at him. ‘If it’s Vikram’s reference, we better not screw up. You don’t worry. I will put off my dinner and wait for this guy to come.’

In the promised twenty minutes, Asad Ansari walked into the branch and all of them made their way down to Zinaida’s workstation.

‘Hi. My name is Asad Ansari.’ The customary introductions followed.

‘What kind of an account is it?’ asked Zinaida, after the pleasantries were over.

‘It’s a current account.’

Zinaida looked up, trying to conceal her irritation. That was the least she was expected to know. ‘Yes Mr Ansari, I understand that. I was referring to whether or not you have any limits, any overdraft facility etc.’

‘Oh, right. It’s a normal current account. See, I brought the Bank of India statement for your reference. You can make out everything from this.’

The moment Zinaida saw the bank statement, her eyes lit up. The Bank of India account, in the name of Asia Logistics Pvt. Limited, showed an average balance of over two and a half crore in Indian rupees. She looked at the statement and passed it on to Bhavin, who was standing next to her.

Bhavin almost fell off his chair when he saw the statement. A few easy calculations told him that if she managed to shift that account to the Bandra Branch, it would mean an incremental profit of over twenty-five lakh for the branch, not accounting for the thousands of rupees profit the bank would make in fees and charges for transactions Asia Logistics would execute through their bank.

Bhavin was overcome by pangs of jealousy. The account had fallen straight into her lap. What a stroke of luck! It could have gone to any RM, but she was the one who came into the branch just when he needed help. But what bugged him the most was the fact that she would make a killing on incentives too.

‘Sure sir. I will give you a list of documents we need to open an account. Once you give us those documents, we will proceed with all the other formalities that we need to fulfil to open your account.’

‘Hmm. . .’ Asad nodded.

‘We need a Board resolution, authorizing you to open an account; we need a copy of the Certificate of Incorporation; Memorandum of Articles of Association; latest shareholding pattern certified by a Chartered Accountant; List of Directors, Pan card of the company, a Know Your Customer (KYC) of the Directors and a few photographs.’ Zinaida rattled out the requirements. She knew them by heart. ‘For the KYC, we need either a passport copy, driving license or pan card of the directors,’ she added.

‘I am carrying most of these with me, except the photographs of the directors. I can give them to you now.’

‘Oh, wonderful. I will arrange for the forms.’

In a couple of minutes, Zinaida resurfaced with a few papers in her hand and within the next quarter of an hour, all the forms were filled up.

‘Sir, we need a minimum of two directors to sign on the Account Opening Forms.’

‘Oh. That will be a problem.’

‘Why, sir? I can send someone to the other director’s residence to get his signature.’

‘No. That’s not the issue. He is not available right now. Had he been available, I would have got the document signed and given it to you. What do we do now?’

‘Mmm. . .’ Zinaida started thinking of a possible way out.

‘Okay. Allow me to suggest something.’ Zinaida nodded and Asad Ansari continued. ‘Why don’t you keep a photocopy of the Account Opening Form and process everything on the basis of the photocopy. Give the original account opening form back to me and I will send the form to you tomorrow morning, after getting it signed by the other director.’

‘That’s fine, sir. In any case, before opening the account we have to make a mandatory visit to the company premises and file a visit report. I will personally visit the office tomorrow and will pick up the documents when I am there,’ Zinaida was quick to point out.

‘Tomorrow’s a bad day for me, Zinaida. I am off to the Middle East on some work. Post that, I am in Russia for a week and then in China for three days. Will be back only after three weeks.’

‘Is there anyone else I can meet when I am there?’

‘No, Zinaida. I take care of banking relationships and also look after the financial affairs of the company. As you can see from our banking statement, there is a fair bit of inflow into the account. I cannot trust anyone with the money, right? So it’s only me.’

‘I will only need five minutes tomorrow, Mr Ansari. Any time of the day. At your convenience.’ When Bhavin heard Zinaida getting desperate about the account opening, he wondered whether this was what high current account balances did to RMs!

‘Oh, come on Zinaida. I don’t want to trouble you. If you think it’s too much of a problem, hold it till I come back. I will be back in three weeks and then we can chat and figure out when to meet and close out all the logistics.’

‘It’s okay, Mr Ansari, we do this for a living. It’s not a trouble at all.’ Even though she tried hard to smile, the disappointment in her voice overshadowed the optimism. It was not without reason. A quick back-of-the-envelope calculation had told Zinaida that three weeks would mean the end of the month. If she let Asad Ansari go, the two-and-a-half-crore lying in Bank of India would not get transferred to GB2 this month and she would have to look for alternate avenues to meet her targets. That was not the only reason. If she let the deal hang for three weeks, some other bank might jump into the fray and steal the account from her. She could see it slipping away from her hands. Bhavin noticed her agony which made him silently laud her commitment.

‘Okay. I’ll tell you what we’ll do. I’ll send the form for processing. We’ll defer the RM visit. I will take a sign-off from our Branch Manager. And we’ll open the account but put a hold on debits into the account, pending the visit. Will that be fine?’ It was a stupid suggestion and she knew it the moment she said it. Who would agree to open a bank account, keep funds in it and not be allowed to withdraw money pending a bank officer visit? But Asad’s reaction was not as volatile as she expected.

Asad thought for a while. ‘No, that’s not acceptable. If you guys are going to be so tight about the entire thing, I am better off at Bank of India. I am coming to you guys for better service levels. If you guys are going to be as stuck up, then there is no point.’ Zinaida was confused. It was her first big win—a current account worth two-and-a-half crore—and she desperately wanted it. There was silence all around. It was a stalemate, which was broken when Asad, probably softened by the look on Zinaida’s face, took the initiative. ‘Okay. Will it be possible for you to come very early in the morning?’

‘How early?’

‘7.45 a.m.?’ He looked at her. ‘I will come early to my office, only for you. Show you around the office and then go back home to pack for my business trip. The only catch is that I will not be able to give you the Account Opening Forms signed by the second director. I will send that to your office later in the day, because he only comes in by ten o’clock.’

‘That should be fine, Mr Ansari. I will be there at 7.30 a.m.’

‘No, no, 7.45 a.m. should be fine. You can get another fifteen minutes of beauty sleep.’ Zinaida sensed the first hint of flirting, but it was fine. With an account worth two-and-a-half-crore at stake, flirting was the least of her worries.

‘Thanks a ton. I will also send a few cheques to be banked, along with the Account Opening Form. You can send them for clearing once the account gets opened.’

‘Thank you, sir. We will take care of your account.’

‘I am sure you will. See you tomorrow.’ Asad Ansari walked out of the bank, with Chandrasekhar in tow.

The next morning Asad met her at the reception, showed her around and spent some time explaining his business model to her. Bhavin accompanied Zinaida on this call. It was extremely early in the day, so none of the staff had come in, except for the guard who had opened the office. They even stepped out for a cup of coffee at a nearby Udupi restaurant. Asad waved out at a couple of people walking by. The guy at the Udipi counter, too, knew him. Bhavin inferred Asad was a regular and Zinaida concurred.

Once back, she filed the visit report. By then, Asad’s errand boy had dropped in the original Account Opening Form signed by the second director, Aslam Shaikh. She attached her visit report, counter-signed by Anand, to the form and packed it off to the back office for opening the account. Asad had sent a cheque of twenty-five lakh rupees along with the form, which Zinaida kept with herself. She intended to deposit the cheque once the account was opened.

In the branch huddle that evening Anand singled out Zinaida for lavish praise, pointing out the current account of Asia Logistics and the twenty-five-lakh-rupee cheque. The applause that followed his announcement was loud, but for Harshita it was deafening. ‘Let’s not forget,’ continued Anand, when the applause died down. ‘There is an opportunity in every referral we get. It all depends on the passion we pursue a deal with. If we’re happy that we have met our targets and don’t go after any further deals with the same passion, someone else will come and walk away with what could have been ideally yours.’ Everyone was confused. What was Anand trying to say? Harshita cringed. ‘Asia Logistics could have been closed by someone who was initially allocated to meet the prospective mortgage customer, Chandrasekhar. But that RM—and I will not take names—did not demonstrate adequate passion, for the person had already met the month’s targets. The deal subsequently fell into Zinaida’s lap and she happily went after it and closed it.’ Another applause followed. Anand looked at Harshita and looked the other way. It was a look of disgust.

Harshita was not at all happy with Zinaida’s meteoric rise. To her, Zinaida was a challenger whom she didn’t consider worthy of engaging in a duel with.
Maybe she is good
, she thought to herself,
but experience needs to be valued too. She can’t use her charms and become the best RM overnight.
Even though Harshita still commanded greater respect in the RM community than anyone else, Zinaida was now beginning to bother her. She wished she looked a few years younger, maybe then she would have been more valued.

That evening, as Anand was walking out, she confronted him.

‘Anand, need a minute of your time.’

‘Yes Harshita.’ Anand stopped and turned towards her.

Harshita looked around. There were still some people in the branch. ‘Need to talk to you in private.’

‘Come, let’s go inside.’ Anand pointed towards the conference room in the banking hall normally used by the branch staff to talk to irate customers.

‘Anand. Is there a problem?’

‘What are you talking about?’

‘I have been noticing, Anand, that of late my performance is not being acknowledged, and accounts given to me have been taken away.’

‘Okay. . .’ Anand said warily. He wanted to continue, but held himself back.

‘. . .and I am beginning to get the feeling that I don’t belong here. I’ve never felt like this before.’

‘Does this have something to do with what I said in the huddle today?’

‘Maybe. But that for sure made me feel awkward.’

‘Look, Harshita. You have been one of the best performing RMs. However, of late I am seeing a change in you. Whether it’s because of repeated success, frustration at work, or any personal issue at home, I don’t know. But a change nevertheless.’

‘What kind of change are you referring to, Anand?’

‘These days you tend to ignore a lot of instructions given to you. You take calls on your own. You don’t consult with anyone. You are becoming a lone operator, and that is not good for the team.’ Now Harshita was shocked. She hadn’t expected Anand to say this. She just raised her eyebrows, as if asking for more.