Not Safe for the Bank(er)

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Not Safe for the Bank(er) Page 4

by Una Tiers


  It didn’t feel right to talk business or hand out business cards at a memorial. Still, I didn’t think I could refuse. As I handed him my card, everyone else extended a hand and I had just enough cards for each person in the stay late crowd.

  Thinking it over as I left, I could have handed my business card to the murderer.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Seeing the message machine blinking, I decided to let my adoring clients wait. I made myself a particularly nice cup of white tea before I settled down to start the work day. Hitting the play button I nearly tipped the cup over when I transcribed messages from Father Gizzle, Tom and Haraj all asking for appointments.

  In my limited experience as an attorney, clients are more likely to ask about a will and then wait a long time before making an appointment. The few that were action oriented were usually on the verge of a hospitalization or vacation and only made a simple plan in the short time frame available, expecting me to drop other work.

  None of my emergency will clients had ever returned to do a proper plan.

  Addressing the calls in order of least suspicion, I called Father Gizzle. He was ready to meet with me at my earliest convenience.

  Haraj wanted to come in on a Monday, when his store was closed. While we were on the phone, he passed along the neighborhood gossip. Tom was recently released from Pontiac Prison and Carol had been cavorting with someone at the bank. When he said Tom was convicted of horse theft and train robbery, I guessed at least some of it was a joke.

  For part of the afternoon, I rehearsed why I didn’t call Tom back. Late in the day he left a second message, and asked if he could meet with me at the same time as Father Gizzle. If something went wrong maybe I would get last rights on the spot.

  Chapter Sixteen

  The appointment with Father Gizzle was divine. When he sat down a small sun beam flickered into the room. My office faces an alley of a tall building and it was raining earlier that morning.

  Before I started the standard interview about wills and estate plans, he rattled off the dispositive portion of his estate. He wanted half of his estate to go to the church and half to a niece. As a professional courtesy, I gave him a lower price, wondering if he would mention it to St. Peter.

  In the middle of our appointment, Annette interrupted us to tell me my next client was waiting. Apparently she didn’t know they came downtown together.

  “Did you pair drive or take the EL Father?” In Chicago, the term EL refers to the public transit rail system.

  “Pair?” he asked.

  “Did you come downtown alone?” I asked thinking I was the smartest lawyer in the world, cleverly not revealing another client’s name.

  “Yes, I know my way and I took the EL, the parking rates here are a sin,” he smiled at his own joke.

  He didn’t answer my question, so I led him out the side door, lying and saying it was closer to the elevator. If he was with Tom, felon number one, he would say something.

  Although Tom closed the office door and sat down, I opened it telling him the air vents were stuck. In a hoarse whisper, similar to Marlon Brando, he explained he didn’t have much to his name, but was expecting a windfall any day. He needed a will, you know, just in case things went wrong.

  Not wanting to know any more, I studiously took down his information. Oddly his brother wasn’t included in his will. Briefly I discussed powers of attorney, and he said they were good as long as you were older than dirt. He left me a deposit in fifty dollar bills and never mentioned Father Gizzle.

  While I was out for a sandwich, Bob Noodle left a message saying Eduardo never came up with the retainer money, but thanks for the referral.

  Eduardo left a message saying he didn’t think he needed such a high priced attorney after all. I remained calm suppressing a scream paralleled only by Munch.

  Special Agent Fou called asking when I was available to meet. I realized I could no longer say I represented Mr. Fives. I needed to look up the pesky rules. I hoped if I had a brief representation, it would preclude my talking to Agent Fou. I hope I could find a privilege to lurk behind.

  Haraj came in exactly on time for his appointment and brought me a two inch tall Buddah for the office. After exchanging a little neighborhood gossip, we started the interview.

  He surprised me when he told me he was married and his wife lived in the old country. She was thinking about coming to Chicago. He also gave me information on his son, who lived in Green Bay with her mother (apparently wife number one). I took down a lot of information, just in case.

  When Father Gizzle returned for the signing of his will, I would need to put the Buddha away. It would be taken out again when Haraj came to sign his will.

  If my husband lived out of the country I would probably still be married.

  Things quieted down in the late afternoon and I decided to head home to do laundry. It seemed the more desperate my laundry needs were, the more likely it was that I was home too late to wash, compounding the issue.

  A few mornings I resorted to drying myself after my shower with washcloths. It takes four to do a respectable job in case you have never experienced this towel crisis. We won’t even discuss trying to dry yourself with the hair dryer.

  As I left my office building, I saw Special Agent Fou enter the lobby. What a shame I missed him. I trotted down the street like a rat down an alley.

  At Mike’s I stopped for a sandwich, to fortify myself to do the laundry.

  “Hey, it’s the lady lawyer,” Mike walked out from behind the counter and met me in the middle of the store. He wasn’t happy when I wanted to pay with a fifty dollar bill. “You know they charge me for change, like quarters and single dollar bills at the bank.” I ended up starting a new tab and going with his recommendation of a meatball sandwich.

  Chapter Seventeen

  I stopped at the pet store for goldfish food for Goldfinger, Mary Ann was at the register.

  She was reading out loud from her kindle to a parrot sitting on her shoulder. When she stopped reading, he pulled her hair and she laughed.

  “How’s Goldfinger?” she asked.

  “He’s fine, thanks for asking. He sends his regards.”

  “Too bad about Carol,” she changed topics abruptly and looked up at me slowly.

  “Yes, what a shame.”

  “You know her husband died a year ago, don’t you?”

  “No kidding?” Why do I do this when I know the answer to a question.

  “And she was only sixty three years old, just two years away from retirement.”

  “I didn’t know.” I lied. Mary Ann and Carol must have been friends.

  “They wanted to go to Phoenix, that’s where I’d like to retire.”

  “I thought you were headed for South Carolina?” Mary Ann had pictures behind the counter for a while of her dream retirement location.

  “New plan. You know I was one of the last people to see Carol alive.” Her eyes were fixed to mine and her smile dissipated slowly.

  “What?”

  “What, what, what,” the bird recapped.

  While I laughed, she didn’t.

  “I saw her the night before she was murdered. The police never called me. She was in the store. I thought about calling them.”

  “Do you remember what time she was here?”

  “Sure, it was a little after five o’clock. I rang up cat food and litter and she couldn’t pay because she forgot her wallet at work. She was in a panic, she said something about the keys and ran out the door. She never came back you know.”

  Mary Ann and the bird stared at me.

  “Because she was dead, you know,” she added.

  Now we knew why Carol went back to the bank after closing. Did this leave Mary Ann off the list of suspects? Did she follow Carol? Did Eduardo let her in? Did the cleaning crew?

  My next stop was the shoe repair.

  “Hey, lady lawyer,” Carl greeted me warmly. “Did you ruin more shoes?”

  Before I coul
d answer, Tom darted out into the room, startling me. His mouth was drawn up in a knot and his head shook imperceptibly in some kind of warning. He glared at Carl and then at me.

  Taking my shoes out of the bag, Carl quietly wrote up a ticket and Tom gave me one more not happy look and disappeared behind the curtain. A glimpse of a moose head hanging on the wall in the back room glared back at me before the curtain swished closed.

  “He’s family,” Carl shrugged in either apology or explanation.

  Chapter Eighteen

  “Eduardo?”

  “Yes,” he answered the telephone with mistrust and a whisper.

  “Fiona.”

  He sighed audibly. “Fiona, I’m afraid whenever I pick up the phone that it might be them.”

  Probably not a good time to tell him they (them), the police, usually come to the door.

  Briefly I explained what Mary Ann said about Carol and her wallet.

  He sidestepped the issue. “The cleaning crew is not allowed…” I could hear the phone being muffled.

  “Are you there Eduardo? Mr. Fives? Hello?”

  “Yes, I’m still on suspension, but maybe I can talk to the cleaning crew. Did you talk to Charlotte at the memorial?”

  “No, I don’t think she saw me,” I lied. Was his lack of consistency rubbing off on me?

  “You know she and Carol were really on the outs about the firing.”

  “Oh?” I omitted my sarcasm; getting fired would ruin my day too.

  “Fiona, I’ll call you later. I have to get off the phone.” Click.

  Great.

  Tom left a snarly message saying his business was his business alone and was not to be repeated to his brother. Really this annoyed me, but I spent his deposit and couldn’t refund his money and quit.

  In my take on it there were two good suspects, Tom and Charlotte. Tom looked good for it because he was already an ex-con, had a mean streak, and may have killed a moose. No, they weren’t real good reasons. I liked to think of my neighborhood as animal friendly. Decapitation just seems wrong.

  Charlotte being fired was a better motive. She would know about the opening and closing rules at the bank. The cleaning staff probably knew her, she used to be the head cashier.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Since I was now representing clergy, I thought it would be good to get to mass more. My average attendance is very low, so an increase would be easy.

  Naturally I overslept on Sunday morning and got to church fifteen minutes after the last mass started. As I tried to tiptoe down the side aisle unnoticed, Father Gizzle stopped. Everyone turned to see the object of his attention.

  I could see Tom, grinning ear to ear, wearing that blasted yellow shirt and royal blue tie and…and…the Moose in a matching shirt and tie.

  No more garlic bread before bedtime, I promise.

  Chapter Twenty

  My new habit to start my work day was to drink tea, while prioritizing my to do list. It made me feel elegant and organized. When I played my messages, the tea almost came out my nose.

  “Ms. Gavelle, this is special agent Fou calling. We’re talking to your client. Just talking and he has asked for you. We’re down at the federal building.”

  In a panic I called Bob. “You have to help me, they arrested him.”

  “Eduardo? They arrested Eduardo?” He asked with disbelief that made me pause.

  “Wait a minute, I’m not sure he said arrested. But they have him at the federal building. Why else would they call me?” Fumbling, I tried to replay the message but only managed to change the time on the answering machine.

  “Kind of important to know Fiona. And, well, gee, I hate to be a heartless snake, but the guy didn’t sign the retainer and didn’t pay me, so I’m out unless he wants to put cash on the table.”

  Knowing it was a really bad idea, I headed for the federal building. It was about six blocks from the office. On the way I imagined Eduardo with his dark hair in the federal orange prisoner jumpsuit and thought he would look sexy. I was wrong.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Rushing over to the federal building, it was hard to catch my breath. Was this an omen? Stupid people breathe all the time so why couldn’t I when I was doing something stupid? Of course I failed to appreciate my heels and briefcase weren’t exactly helping me.

  At two red lights, I reconsidered what I would accomplish and turned back and walked a half block before turning around again.

  Was this an anxiety attack? Could I drag up the name of another criminal defense lawyer in the next several minutes? Maybe I should go back to the office and try to reach the bar referral service?

  After signing in at the federal office building, having my briefcase searched, wishing I didn’t have personal girl things in there, wishing I was not there. I was directed to a room and Eduardo was not there.

  “You’ve got to help me Fiona, they found out about the money. I mean, I had no choice, I have a family. Business is bad, you know.”

  My ears were ringing and I had to blink to be sure I was seeing correctly. He always complained about twenty or fifty dollar bills at the restaurant. A dim memory of federal money laundering laws popped into my head. I remembered his money problems. These were not good signs.

  After a short conversation, I placed another call to Bob Noodle.

  “Hello Bob, I’m over at the federal office building and I have another client for you.”

  “Another? Not Eduardo?”

  “No and I think he can pay cash.”

  “On my way.”

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  After too many phone calls, for which I was not paid, and question after question, here is the bottom line. Mike is awaiting trial on money laundering charges although he is still trying to cut a deal. It seems the federal government can go ahead of the state even if there is a murder charge pending.

  The pizza parlor is closed with a padlock and there is a warning sign telling about all the penalties and wrath that could occur to anyone who ignored the sign.

  Bob gave me dribs and drabs of information after I pestered him with calls. I scanned the internet and newspapers each day for more information. Bob never mentioned co-counseling the new case. He promised me lunch, with both coke and fries when time permitted.

  After I bailed Mike out of the pizza oven replevin mess, he still had trouble making ends meet. So, he borrowed money from the neighborhood loan sharks. They actually live outside of television shows and books. Although he thought it would be temporary, he could not keep up with the increasing interest. When he fell behind, he agreed to exchange their cash pretending to break large bills from the restaurant at the bank.

  Mike sent his wife and children back to Europe knowing he made a bad decision.

  Carol was sharp and she was strapped for retirement money. She had lunch at the pizza place and noticed the kitchen workers were the same people in the cleaning crew at the bank. Mike asked her to break larger bills without charging the bank service fee.

  She must have suspected he was up to something evil or at least illegal. It was her chance to get her hands on a little extra cash.

  Mike tried to start a romance to distract her. He said his wife left him, he didn’t mention her return to the old country for safety.

  When Carol joked about his frequent trips to the safe deposit box, she thought he was hiding cash.

  Carol thought she and Mike were as thick as thieves instead of the other popular adage of no honor among thieves. The night she took the vault keys with her by mistake, her trust was misplaced when she asked him to help her put the keys back. She didn’t know she had become a liability and that Mike had little to lose.

  Why she would go into the bank vault with him was probably the same reason all those baby sitters open the door when they know a bad guy or vampire is right outside the door.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  A week later I stepped cautiously over the threshold of the bank and the door hit me in the ass again. Looking
around, everything seemed to be back in order. Eduardo was at his desk, all smiles. He looked handsome again, but with a history that would always make me wonder if he played me for a sucker.

  Jeanine gave me a quick wave and turned to the drive through window.

  The place reeked of new carpet chemicals, probably replacing the blood stained carpet in the vault.

  Eduardo gave me a complimentary pen and said they had a new credit card promotion starting soon.

  “Did you get any more information about what happened?” I asked.

  He explained that Mike owned the cleaning service that worked at the bank under the name Ekim’s Cleaning.

  “But why would they let Carol in?”

  “Mike had to be with her.”

  “What about the keys?” I still expected him to tell all.

  “We keep our personal keys locked in the drawer for the work day. That’s why when Carol bought something at lunchtime, she didn’t have her car keys to put the package right in her trunk.

  And remember I thought I saw the bank keys somewhere they didn’t belong?” he asked.

  I nodded.

  “Carol left with her car keys and the vault keys. I think I noticed the lanyard in her hand but it didn’t register when I walked her to the car with the package. If it had she might still be alive.

  Carol realized she had the vault keys when she got to the pet store. That’s why she panicked. By a quarter after five, I was out the door. If the main office knew we made the mistake, they would have fired us and she could have lost her pension for misconduct.

  I wasn’t paying attention when I walked her to the car. Maybe I didn’t check the vault door. The alarm is broken, so no one is blaming anyone other than Carol.”

 

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