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Lester Torrance,[link widoczny dla zalogowanych], a teller at the First Merchants Bank of New Orleans,[link widoczny dla zalogowanych], prided himself on two things: his sexual prowess with the ladies and his ability to size up his customers. Lester was in his late forties, a lanky,[link widoczny dla zalogowanych], sallow-faced man with a Tom Selleck mustache and long sideburns. He had been passed over for promotion twice,[link widoczny dla zalogowanych], and in retaliation,[link widoczny dla zalogowanych], Lester used the bank as a personal dating service. He could spot hookers a mile away, and he enjoyed trying to persuade them to give him their favors for nothing.
Lonely widows were an especially easy prey. They came in all shapes,[link widoczny dla zalogowanych], ages, and states of desperation,[link widoczny dla zalogowanych], and sooner or later they would appear in front of Lester's cage. If they were temporarily overdrawn,[link widoczny dla zalogowanych], Lester would lend a sympathetic ear and delay bouncing their checks. In return,[link widoczny dla zalogowanych], perhaps they could have a quiet little dinner together? Many of his female customers sought his help and confided delicious secrets to him: They needed a loan without their husbands' knowledge ....
They wanted to keep confidential certain checks they had written....
They were contemplating a divorce, and could Lester help them close out their joint account right away? Lester was only too eager to please. And to be pleased.
On this particular Friday morning,[link widoczny dla zalogowanych],[link widoczny dla zalogowanych], Lester knew he had hit the jackpot. He saw the woman the moment she walked in the door of the bank. She was an absolute stunner. She had sleek black hair falling to her shoulders,[link widoczny dla zalogowanych], and she wore a tight skirt And sweater that outlined a figure a Las Vegas chorine would have envied.