Reflections - Misleading Ledger
Township Building
“Whoopee!” I pumped my fists in the air.
Three furry faces and a bearded one stared at me as if I’d lost my mind.
I hadn’t.
In March the township secretary-treasurer Zina, with a cut of her hand and pouty lips, shouted, “I’m done!” Without authority, she’d fired me and the two other elected auditors. We had worked sixteen hours on her mysterious books—featuring double entries, creative categorizations, and fantasy dates. Zina refused to answer the last three questions we’d hoped would balance the accounts.
Able to talk two of the three supervisors into her suggestions, Zina convinced the pliable men that the elected auditors were too dumb to understand computer recorded accounts. The supervisors voted two to one to hire a public accounting firm.
The firm asked the same three questions along with ninety-seven others, according to Zina, and charged the township $5000. That money could have filled a lot of potholes.
I had whooped at Spence’s news in the hopes that a new secretary-treasurer would input data accurately. Though I’d learned a lot about township finances fixing Zina’s chaotic records, I longed for easier audits.
Nancy, the head auditor who’d balanced the township books to the penny for decades, didn’t whoop. Since township books have to be audited at the end of the year and when a new secretary-treasurer takes over, she schemed. Her pride—she was just three questions away from balancing the accounts—and frugality—she didn’t want the township wasting another $5000—motivated her to get the books for the transition audit.
In the meantime, Zina advertised for a new secretary-treasurer. The supervisors interviewed the applicants and chose Veronica, a shapely, fifty-year-old who worked days in a medical office. Zina trained Veronica during the month of August.
I admit that the training part gave me nightmares.
Before the September meeting, Veronica’s first, Nancy went into action. She figured John, the seasoned farmer who I’d talked into running for supervisor, would vote for the elected auditors to save money. She figured Gavin, the young whippersnapper who vacillated between charming helper and screaming jerk, would support his friend Zina by insisting on the public accounting firm. That left Jeff, a tall dude who sways with the last commenter. Nancy arranged a meeting with Jeff and me.
We met in the corner of the township building, a huge aluminium sided garage. Dump trucks, a grader, a roller, and a huge tractor with mowing attachments took up most of the space. Dust and diesel fumes floated through the air. Masked, Nancy and I sat on one side of the table. Unasked, Jeff sat across from us. To give him credit, he opened the front and back doors then turned on the ceiling fans.
On the table facing Jeff, Nancy laid months of financial reports Zina had included in the township minutes. “I’ve been studying the reports.” She pointed to circled numbers. “Zina overdrew the bank accounts here and here.”
Jeff leaned closer. “That’s not good.”
“I’m within two thousand dollars of getting this to balance, and I know where to look. The money has to be in the tax withholding account. I can save the township another five thousand dollars if I can look at the books.”
Jeff rubbed the stubble on his chin. “My personal accountant told me to take care of the pennies and the dollars would take care of themselves . . .” Then Gavin’s words came out of Jeff’s mouth. “We have to use the public accounting firm because they did the audit last time.”
“The elected auditors did the audit when Zina took over the job,” I said. “Besides, we need to build a positive working relationship with Veronica. All our questions will be about Zina’s work so we won't offend Veronica.”
 |
| Table Inside the Township Building |
Jeff leaned back. “I’ll call PSATS.” [PSATS is a nonprofit that advises township governments.] He frowned at Nancy’s papers with the circled numbers. “Then I’ll call Gavin, John, Zina, and Veronica. We have better uses for the five thousand dollars.”
Follow up not being his strength, Jeff didn't make the calls. Before the August meeting, however, he conferred with Gavin outside the front door of the township building. Inside, the supervisors voted—two yes, one no— to look into hiring the public accounting firm. At the end of the meeting, when supervisors sign checks and the audience chats, Gavin grumbled, “The people in this township are pains in the ass. I resign.”
The next day, as if given permission to audit Zina’s books, Nancy emailed Veronica requesting printouts of four types for records from January 1, 2020 to August 31, 2020. She also asked for the physical files documenting revenues, expenditures, and bank accounts. An email conversation ensued.
Veronica: A decision was not made at the last meeting on who was doing the audit. I believe the supervisors will make a decision at next month’s meeting.
Nancy: According to psats book sunshine act and the right to know law manual 2016 edition section 703, townships must accept written record requests by mail, fax, email and in person.
If a request seeks information that is stored in an electronic device, it can not be denied. Everything we requested is public record.
Veronica: I believe these are what you are asking for. [She attached four spreadsheets.] As for reviewing physical paperwork, you will need to schedule time with me to look at them. I can’t let you take the paperwork as I’m responsible for it. We can determine a mutually agreed upon time for you to review them.
Nancy: There are three auditors. If you're comfortable, we can use the records at the township building or we could work at your house 6-8 pm nights or weekends. What's convenient for you? We anticipate less than 15 hours.
Digital Silence. No “I believe” from Veronica.
Still without an official vote from the supervisors, Nancy changed tactics. She asked John, as a supervisor, to get the books and let the elected auditors work on them.
John spoke with Veronica several times during the next week. He promised he’d take charge of the financial records. He promised the auditors would only work on the books at the township building. He promised to cart the books to and from the building every day.
John’s word didn’t satisfy Veronica. She forced him to sign an affidavit stating he took personal responsibility for the records before she handed over a carton of file folders.
Nancy scheduled the first work day at the township building for Thursday, October 8 from nine to noon and two to five.
 |
| Township Vehicles |
Carol refused to wear a mask for the indoor work.
Nancy wore a mask to make me comfortable and let me arrange the furniture.
Placing two tables end to end, I set a chair in the middle and a chair at each end. We propped the doors open and turned on the fans. I requested the chair by the door.
But Carol said, “Diesel fumes did weird things to my brain.” She sat there.
I sat farthest from Carol, and opened the files. My glasses fogged from breathing through the mask. I took them off.
Nancy scooted her chair closer to me.
Carol scooted her chair down the other side to sit across from Nancy.
So much for social distancing.
A breeze blew through the building lifting the January statement for the state checking account off the table and depositing it on the floor covered with enough soil from dirt roads to grow a patch of strawberries. I retrieved the account, shook the dust off, and hoped neither John nor Veronica would notice the slight discoloration and wrinkle. We weighed sheets down with our pencil cases and scratch pads.
Inspecting the state ledger, the general ledger, and seven bank accounts, we checked—
✔Each expenditure with the ledger, paper bills, and bank statements.
✔Each revenue with the ledger, written documentation (when we found any—none of the numerous local tax deposits had the usual paper trail), and bank statements.
✔Each bank transfer from one account to another.
✔Each time sheet for hours listed against hours paid.
The computer could have added the accounts and spit out the balances for us—if the transactions were recorded properly. They weren't. The computer’s trial balances for state and general funds were way off.
At the end of the day Monday, October 12, the day of the October township meeting, we were exhausted. Nancy had worked six hours on Thursday, Friday, Saturday, and Monday. Carol took most of Thursday and part of Saturday off for appointments. I skipped Saturday afternoon to watch the Jane Austen AGM.
Our calculations came closer than the computer’s but still didn’t balance. We found $20.03 less than the bank totals for the general funds and $2008.93 more than the bank totals for the state funds.
Frustration strained Nancy’s face. “We’re over the time I predicted.”
“They’re Zina’s books. Of course they took longer.” I shoved scratch pads and colored pencils into my tote bag. “I don’t care about the money. You don’t have to turn in all my hours.”
Carol slammed her fist against the table. “I want every penny I earned. They treated us with disrespect. They made us work here . . .” She raised her hands and swiveled as if directing an imaginary television audience to view the road-soiled vehicle backdrop. She picked up her purse, said, “Let me know when we meet next,” and left.
Nancy didn’t pack her gear. She stared at the ledger in her hand. “It has to be one item. One bill we're missing.” She tossed the ledger into a folder. “What will we say at the township meeting tonight?”
None of us said anything.
Carol didn’t go because of the diesel fumes.
I didn’t go because most people don’t wear masks.
And Nancy didn’t go because she fell asleep right after dinner.
Later, John reported that when someone asked about the audit, he said, “They're almost done. Just adding and subtracting the final numbers.”
Besides, the meeting had bigger news. Gavin rescinded his resignation, which was okay with PSATS because the other supervisors didn’t accept it in a formal vote last month. And Veronica handed in her two week notice.
That triggered the third audit for the year—when we finish the second.
End of Part One
Township Sign
No comments:
Post a Comment