Arthur swallowed.
"Sir?"
"I have owned this bank for three hours, and this is how your employees treat someone they believe has no money."
Nobody answered.
Eleanor stepped forward.
"Mr. Vance, there has obviously been a misunderstanding."
I looked at the shredder.
"Was destroying my check a misunderstanding?"
She opened her mouth.
"Was calling me a criminal a misunderstanding?"
"I was following security procedures."
"Which procedure authorizes you to destroy an unverified financial instrument?"
She said nothing.
"Which procedure authorizes a guard to strike a customer who has raised both hands?"
Hank shifted uncomfortably.
Arthur reached for his phone.
"I'll have both of them removed immediately."
"No."
He stopped.
"First, preserve every second of the security footage."
I pointed toward the cameras.
"Every angle, every recording, every audio file, and every transaction record."
Arthur nodded.
"Of course."
"And nobody touches that shredder."
Eleanor's eyes widened.
I looked directly at her.
"You called the document fake without checking it, but the evidence you destroyed may be more important than you realize."
Arthur gathered the acquisition folders from the floor.
One had fallen open beside my bloodstained hand.
Across its first page were the words FIRST HERITAGE VANGUARD BANK — FINAL OWNERSHIP TRANSFER.
Eleanor stared at the document.
For the first time, she seemed to understand that this was not a wealthy customer threatening to complain.
This was the owner examining what had happened inside his own institution.
An ambulance was called, and I was examined while Arthur secured the lobby and arranged for the recordings to be preserved.
My ribs hurt with every breath, and the cut inside my mouth continued bleeding.