You may have inferred from the previous entry that the company doesn’t issue corporate credit cards. Employees whose job requires traveling put their business-related charges on their own credit cards, except for plane fare, then they submit expense reports for reimbursement.
Before I began traveling for work, I applied for a credit card at my bank, but was rejected with the box checked for “Insufficient Income.” I still have the rejection letter somewhere. Until I could manage to get a card, the company issued me cash advances for my trips, that I then turned into American Express traveler’s checks. (“Don’t Leave Home Without Them,” as Karl Malden used to say in the TV ads.)
I was eventually approved for a Mastercard thanks to the wife of my boss’ boss, who was an executive at my bank. When I reapplied for a card, I had to sign a form agreeing to use it only for work-related expenses, and she processed the approval. Eventually, I was able to use the card for myself, and I still have that account. About fifteen years ago, I was gobsmacked to learn that the wife had become good friends with my high school girlfriend. But I digress.
So there I was, meeting with the administrator who would explain the process involved with firing Ted for his attempted fraud. Ted would receive a check for the valid charges from his trip to Canada, along with a final paycheck, pro-rated for however many days he had been employed that month. I was relieved to hear the police wouldn’t be involved. How wrong I was.
When I met with Ted he gave me the same innocent routine he had before, when he was put on probation. He didn’t understand, there must be a mistake, it had to be a misunderstanding, etc. But he’d been caught, and he couldn’t talk his way out of the situation he was in. After the exit interview, Ted was escorted out of the building by the administrator.
A couple of weeks later, I received a phone call at work. It went something like this:
“Mr. Pratt? Douglas Pratt?”
“Yes.”
“I’m Sergeant (so and so) of the Massachusetts Port Authority Police Department*.”
“Uh, yes?”
“Does Ted [name withheld] work for you?”
“He did.”
“He gave your name as his boss.”
“I was, but he was fired for submitting a fraudulent expense report.”
“I see. Have you had any contact with him since then?”
“No, none. Why?”
“An associate of his was working for a car rental company at Logan Airport.”
“Yeah, that figures.”
“They have taken a vehicle and disappeared.”
Holy crud. Ted had gone from being disciplined for chronic tardiness and his failure to report for work without notice, to grand theft auto. I took the officer’s name and number and I promised to call him if Ted contacted me, but I couldn’t imagine why he would do that. I assumed that would be the last I’d even hear about Ted, let alone hear from him or see him again. How wrong I was.
* Formerly an independent force, the Massport Police later became a unit of the Massachusetts State Police.