Part 13 (1/2)
”Why not?” Liv snapped indignantly. ”That's what it was.”
”The memo I gave you didn't mention race.”
”Not specifically, but we both know what was really going on there. Low-income areas in this city are populated by blacks and Hispanics. 'Certain' people mean minorities to Bob Dudley. You know it. I know it. You're sounding naive, and I know you aren't. You know the deal.”
Liv was right. That was the deal. ”Still, I-”
”Look, what are you worried about anyway? It's my neck on the line. No one will ever find out you were the one who gave me the memo.”
Angela played with her napkin nervously, regretting what she had done for the first time. Jake Lawrence had scared her. The article Liv had written might make the big New York and West Coast banks think twice about acquiring Sumter. Maybe keep anyone from making a high-priced acquisition offer for the bank. Then Lawrence would lose out on hundreds of millions, maybe even billions, in profits. Maybe evenlose money, which could easily cause his interest in helping her win back Hunter to wane. ”I hope not.”
”Angela, they could jam toothpicks under my fingernails and I still wouldn't tell them how I got the memo. I'm good for my word.”
”I know,” Angela said slowly, thinking how so many dollars might actually cause people to resort to torture. Worried Liv's giving her word could come back to haunt her friend.
”It makes me so mad that my article didn't get more attention,” Liv continued. ”And I'm not talking about personal attention.”
”What are you talking about?”
”The fact that Bob Dudley still has his job. He still sits on top of Sumter Bank.”
”He denied your accusations. He pointed to all of the charities he's involved with that help minorities.”
”Bob Dudley is a racist.”
”Maybe, but most of Richmond considers him a pillar of the community. People don't believe he would ever endorse anything like what your article accused the bank of. Other than that incident with you at that business forum, he's never had any problems in public.” Angela took a sip of wine. ”And from what I read, the spin from the forum was that you were trying to bait him. That you came off as the aggressor.”
”A spin crafted by the white contingent of reporters in town who constantly kiss Dudley's a.s.s.” Liv shook her head. ”Sometimes I want to tear my hair out it makes me so mad. That article should have turned people's heads, but it didn't. How can people not even care? Not even notice?”
”People noticed,” Angela murmured. Jake Lawrence might have termed the forty-million-dollar paper loss on his Sumter Bank investment ”small,” but it had been important enough for him to mention the article, and to mention that theWall Street Journal was thinking about picking up on it. Angela considered telling Liv that but didn't. Once again she couldn't be sure if Lawrence was telling the truth, or trying to manipulate her. ”You organized that protest outside the bank's entrance this morning, right?”
Liv grinned. ”You figured that out, huh?”
”It wasn't hard.” If Liv really got things stirred up, Jake Lawrence probably wouldn't be as calm about the situation next time they talked-if there was a next time.
”If I'm going to bring Bob Dudley down, it's going to have to be with a gra.s.sroots effort. The black community is going to have to rise up against him, with a little help from their friends.”
Angela stared across the table at Liv. ”Is that what this is all about?” she asked. ”Bringing Bob Dudley down?”
”I told you. He's a racist,” Liv said angrily. ”He'll do whatever he can to keep minorities from making any progress in the world. All the way from keeping me out of his country club to keeping my brother in a hovel on the east side. You know, I'd love to see Dudley hanging from a tree the way my-” Liv held her tongue when the waiter arrived at the table to describe the evening's specials. When he was gone, she pursed her full lips as if she wanted to say something very important. Then she relaxed and shook her head. ”Dinner's on me tonight.”
”That's all right. We'll-”
”No, no. I invited you, and I'm going to pay,” Liv said firmly. ”But I am going to make you work for it.”
”Work for it?”
”Last time we were together you started to tell me how I could check on Sumter Bank's record of serving the minority community, but you had to leave before we were able to go into detail.”
”Oh, right.”
Angela and Liv had run into each other at a city chamber of commerce luncheon a few weeks ago, but Angela had had to leave before dessert to make a meeting.
”You were talking about statistical areas or something.”
”Metropolitan statistical areas: M.S.A.'s.”
”That was it,” Liv confirmed, reaching down and pulling a notepad and pen from a large leather pocketbook at her feet. ”What are M.S.A.'s?”
”The federal government's Office of Management and Budget-”
”The OMB,” Liv cut in.
”Right, the OMB. The OMB has diced the country into M.S.A.'s. The city of Richmond, the town of Crozet, the county of Henrico, and so on are M.S.A.'s. Most banks, especially big ones, operate in lots of M.S.A.'s. And the M.S.A.'s are further broken down into census tracks.”
”Go on.”
”The OMB segments individuals and households within the M.S.A.'s and the census tracks them by income. Those income categories are broadly defined as low, moderate, middle, and upper.”
The waiter returned to take their order, but Liv shooed him away, telling him they hadn't even looked at their menus. ”How does...o...b..define those income levels?” she asked when he was gone. ”What are the ranges?”
Angela closed her eyes, trying to remember her research. ”I think low is below 50 percent of the specific M.S.A.'s median income,” she said slowly. ”Moderate is like 50 to 75 or 80 percent of median. Middle is 80 to 120 percent, and high is over 120 percent.”
Liv crossed her arms over her chest, a puzzled look on her face. ”So it's arelative measure.”
”That's right.”
”The absolute level of median income in one M.S.A. might be different from that in another M.S.A.”
”Not might be, probably is.”
”But to be able to calculate a median income level for an M.S.A., the OMB has to know what everyone in that M.S.A. is making.”
”True.”
”How can the OMB possibly know everybody's income?” Liv asked bluntly.
”They could use census information.”
”Do you think people are truthful about their incomes on that form?”
Angela shook her head. ”No. I think most people don't even fill in that box. I don't.”
”Then how-”
”Liv,” Angela interrupted, ”let's say you could have any resource in the federal government available to you. And let's say you wanted to know what my income was for last year. Where would you go?”
Liv thought for a second, then her eyes widened. ”The IRS?”
”Right. Now don't quote me on that. In fact, you can't quote me on anything we discuss tonight. That's my one condition for helping you.”