by Bill Bernico
“Well,” Matt said, “there’s always another answer, that being that I don’t really need to earn a living whereas both of you do. Like I said, this is a pro bono case that I can write off. Can either of you?”
“Then I guess we’ll see you when you get back, Dad,” Nick said, flipping open his laptop and looking for more clues.
Matt rode the elevator to the lobby, exited through the parking lot door and slid behind the wheel of his Toyota sedan. He caught the freeway east out of town and set his cruise control at five miles per hour over the limit. Cars were still passing him like he was standing still, but he wasn’t going to press his luck. Victorville was an hour and a half drive from Hollywood and he was going to try and relax during this ninety mile trip. When he got close to the outskirts of town, Matt pulled over and punched the address of the Victorville Police Department into his GPS. He found the building within ten minutes and was surprised to notice that it looked like it may have once been a used car dealership that had gone belly up.
Next door to the police department, which also housed the coroner’s office, Matt found a coffee shop and decided to freshen up a bit in their restroom before visiting the police next door. He figured he could also use a nice cold drink. Matt walked into the air conditioned café and took a deep breath. He spotted the men’s room as soon as he walked in. Matt splashed his face, washed his hands and returned to the counter to order a cold soda. He paid for his drink and carried it back to a booth near the window.
Seated across from Matt at a free-standing table was a man who looked to be about Matt’s own age. Matt and the man exchanged glances and smiled politely. Matt nodded and said to the man, “Is it always this hot out here?”
“It is this time of year,” the man replied and went back to eating his fries.
“Sorry to bother you,” Matt said, “but would you know where the Victorville Security Bank is located?”
The man’s brows furrowed. “Can’t say I’ve ever heard of it before. Of course I’ve only lived here for a dozen years. You sure it’s still here or might you be thinking of some other bank or even some other town?”
“I don’t know myself,” Matt said. “I’m just in from L.A. on business and thought I’d look it up.”
“Sorry I can’t help you,” the man said. “Maybe you could ask Frank.”
“Frank?”
“The owner,” the man explained. “He’s a little older than I am. Maybe he’d know.” The man turned in his seat and pointed to the old man behind the counter. “That’s him over there. The man in the cream-colored suit with the clipboard.”
“Thanks,” Matt said, carrying his drink up to the counter. The girl at the register was busy with another customer so Matt stood patiently waiting his turn. Frank looked up from his clipboard and noticed Matt waiting and stepped up to him with his hand out. “Would you like a refill?” Frank said.
Matt looked down at his cup and then back up at Frank. “Oh, no thanks,” he said. “But I would like to ask you a question if you have time.”
“Sure,” Frank said. “What is it?”
“Would you know where I could find the Victorville Security Bank?” Matt asked. “I’m not from around here.”
“Obviously,” Frank said. “Wells Fargo bought them out oh, fifteen or sixteen years ago. You can find them just down the street.” Frank gestured with his chin in a northerly direction.
Matt motioned Frank off to one side and said in a lower voice, “By any chance would you remember a holdup that occurred at the Victorville Security Bank almost forty years ago?”
Frank’s face began to look wary now. “Why do you ask?” he said.
Matt pulled the wallet out of his pocket and opened it to his I.D. and shield. “My name is Matt Cooper and I’m just in town from Los Angeles. I’m looking into the circumstances surrounding that holdup.”
“I’d say you’re a little late,” Frank said. “About thirty-five years late.”
“Thirty-seven, actually,” Matt corrected. “And I’m not really looking into the holdup itself, but rather the men involved in it.”
“Didn’t you get the story off the wire services back in L.A.,” Frank said. “I think it even made the national news. Some vacationing family found the car used in that holdup and three skeletons were in it. That was the biggest news to hit this town since the holdup itself. The next day the television news had another story about that same family finding the fourth guy and the bank bag with all the money still in it.”
“I know,” Matt said.
“Cooper, Cooper,” Frank said. “That name rings a bell. Wait a minute, seems to me I remember reading that the family who found that car was named Cooper.”
Matt held up his index finger. “That was me,” he confessed.
Frank looked down the length of the counter and could see that his girls had everything under control. He motioned Matt to follow him to a booth in the corner and invited him to sit. “Well, well,” Frank said. “Looks like I’ll be able to get a first-hand account of what happened there at that wayside.” He took Matt’s cup from him and held it over head until a girl in a burgundy apron came to the table. “Bring my guest a refill, will you, Pam?”
Frank turned back to Matt, his face renewed and full of questions. “The one question that everyone’s asking around here is who gets the money that you found? I mean, the bank got reimbursed by the insurance company and that insurance company went bankrupt a few years later, so who’s left to claim it?”
Matt shrugged. “Beats me. I’m just here looking into the details surrounding the holdup and I was just wondering if anyone here may have known any of the four men who were involved in that holdup. I realize they were all from Los Angeles, but one or more of them may have had a local connection and that’s what I’m looking into.” He gave Frank the names of the four men and waited for a reaction.
Frank just shook his head. “None of those names ring any bells with me,” he said. “And I’ve lived here all my life.”
Pam returned with a refill for Matt’s drink and set it in front of him before walking back to the front counter. “Thanks,” Matt said, lifting the paper cup to Frank in a one man toast. He took a long sip, set his cup down again and said, “Can you tell me where that Victorville Security Bank originally sat thirty-seven years ago? I just want to take a look at it to try and get a mental picture of how it all happened.”
“Sure,” Franks said. “You get back on Interstate 15 and take it north about four miles or so. The bank would have been situated on the corner of First and E Street. The building’s gone now. I think they put up houses there.”
“Sounds like that bank was chosen because it was close to the freeway heading out of town,” Matt said.
“I don’t remember if the Interstate system was there yet at the time,” Frank said. “But still, it would have been the main road out of town, so I guess you’re right about the proximity.”
Pam returned to their table and told Frank he was needed in the kitchen. “Gotta run, Matt,” he said. “Nice talking to you. I hope you find what you’re looking for.”
“Thanks for the information, Frank,” Matt said and watched as Pam and Frank returned to the kitchen. Matt carried his drink back out to his car, sipping from the straw as he walked. He didn’t even bother buckling himself in when he moved his car from the café parking lot to the police station next door. He left his cup in the cup holder and walked into the police station.
Matt found the desk sergeant sitting just inside the door. He nodded as he approached. “Good morning,” Matt said, producing his shield and I.D. card. “Could I speak to someone in charge, please?”
The sergeant studied Matt’s I.D. card, checking the photo against Matt’s face. “And what is this in regard to?” he said, handing Matt’s I.D. back to him.
“I’d like to speak to anyone who may have been working here thirty-seven years ago, if that’s possible. I’m looking into the holdup at the Victorville Security Bank fr
om back then.”
The desk sergeant gave Matt a strange look. “Why?” he said. “That’s ancient history. Besides, they found the men responsible and got the money back. Don’t you read the papers or watch TV?”
“Actually, Sergeant, I’m the person who found the getaway car with the men inside. My wife was with me when we found the fourth man and the bank bag.”
“Cooper,” the sergeant said. “Of course. I didn’t put the name with the news accounts. Hang on a minute, I’ll go find the captain. He was here back then.”
“Thank you,” Matt said and stepped over to a padded chair that sat next to an end table with magazines on it. He had just turned to an article about inner city violence when the desk sergeant returned.
“Captain Seever will be right with you,” the sergeant said.
Matt looked again at the article about gang violence and its affect on today’s youth. He hadn’t even had a chance to read the first paragraph when a distinguished-looking white haired gentleman in a blue uniform came toward him with his hand outstretched.
“Mr. Cooper?” the cop said. “My name is Captain Seever. I understand you were the man who found that bank getaway car and the money.”
Matt stood, shook the captain’s hand and said, “Actually, my two kids found the car but my wife and I found the fourth man who still had the bank bag. Captain, I was wondering if I could just have a few minutes of your time. I’m looking into that whole incident for my client.”
“Your client?” Seever said. “Why would anyone want to know anything about a robbery that happened almost forty years ago?”
Matt looked up and down the hall and then back at the captain. “Is there someplace private we could talk?”
“Of course,” Seever said. “Come with me, please.” He led Matt down the hall to a room with the captain’s name on the door. He offered Matt a seat across from his desk and then sat. “Now, what is so important to your client that they asked you to look into it?”
“Captain,” Matt began. “My client is an eighty-six year old woman who would like me to prove that her son had nothing to do with that bank robbery all those years ago. His name was Robert Wells and his was one of the bodies found in that old car at the bottom of the ravine.”
“Looks like you’ve got your work cut out for you, Mr. Cooper,” Seever said. “It’s always been assumed that all four men took part in that holdup. What would make anyone think otherwise?”
“That was my initial thought, too, Captain,” Matt said. “But I’ve since found out that Mr. Wells was the parole officer for the other three men and that got me to wondering if he was there willingly or if maybe the other three forced him along and then killed him.”
“Hmmm,” Seever said. “Interesting theory. Their parole officer, you say? Had you considered that Mr. Wells found out about the other three and their plans to hold up the bank and decided to grab his own brass ring, so to speak?”
“The thought had occurred to me,” Matt said. “That’s why it’s important for me to find out as much about these guys as I can. His mother probably doesn’t have much longer in that nursing home and I’d like to be able to give her good news before she goes.”
“Have you thought about how you’re going to go about that, Mr. Cooper?”
“Actually, Captain, I was hoping to have a look at whatever files you may have from back then, if that’s all right with you.”
Seever thought about it momentarily and then said, “I don’t see why not. Most if not all of the principals in that case are dead by now. I don’t see any harm in letting you have a look. A look, mind you. I can’t allow any of those records to leave here, you understand.”
“Of course,” Matt said, patting his shirt pocket. “All right if I takes some notes?”
“Sure,” Seever said. “Could I ask that you let me know if you find anything interesting? You never know if it might come in handy down the road somewhere.”
“That goes without saying,” Matt assured him and then just waited for the captain to make the next move.
Captain Seever picked up his desk phone and dialed his secretary. “Miss Harper, would you come in here, please.” A young woman entered the office a few seconds later, a steno pad and pencil in hand. The captain scribbled something down on his note pad and tore it off, handing it to the secretary. “Miss Harper, would you find that file and bring it to the conference room, please? Mr. Cooper will be in there waiting for it.”
“Yes, sir,” Harper said, taking the sheet form her boss. “Just give me a few minutes.”
Captain Seever stood and gestured toward his door. “Come with me, Mr. Cooper. I’ll take you to the conference room.”
“Thank you for your cooperation, Captain,” Matt said and followed him down the hall. Matt found a comfortable chair and waited for the secretary to bring the file folders from the records room.
By the time he left that conference room, Matt had managed to fill several pages in his notebook. All the facts were right there in front of him and, like it or not, they were undisputable. He closed the folders and returned them to Captain Seever’s office, thanking him once more for his help.
“Find what you were looking for, Mr. Cooper?” Captain Seever said.
“I think so,” Matt said. “I think we’ll all be able to put this one to rest and move on from here.” He explained in detail what he’d found.
“Could have flipped a coin on that one,” Seever said. “But that’s about what I suspected all along.”
“Take care now,” Matt said. “I have to be getting back to my office. If you’re ever in Hollywood and I can help you with anything, please, Captain, don’t hesitate to call on me.” He gave the captain one of his business cards, shook his hand and was back out to his car in less than a minute.
Matt slid in beneath the wheel and then slid back out again, rubbing his butt. “Ouch,” he said, feeling the effects of the relentless sun that had been beating down through his windshield. He walked around to the rear of the car, popped the trunk open and withdrew a blanket that he kept there for just such an occasion. Matt laid it out on the front seat surface and took his seat again, this time able to tolerate the temperature.
Once he was back on the road again, Matt turned his air conditioning on the highest setting and was eventually able to feel comfortable again after fifteen minutes on the road. It took him just a little longer than ninety minutes this time to make it back to the parking lot behind the Cahuenga Building. He checked his watch as he rode the elevator to the third floor. It was just a few minutes before five o’clock. He’d still have a few minutes to lay out his findings for Nick and Veronica before he made one last trip for the day—back to the nursing home.
“Well,” Matt said when he came back into his office. “One of our theories about Robby Wells was correct.”
“Which one?” Nick said.
“I’ll bet he was kidnapped,” Veronica offered.
Matt hung his hat on the coat rack and settled into his chair. “He was part of it,” he told his children. “Just like we thought, his job as a parole office apparently didn’t pay him enough to suit his life style and he was looking for a shortcut to wealth and security.”
“Oh, he found the shortcut, all right,” Nick said. “To the grave.”
“That’s too bad,” Veronica said. “His poor old mother is going to be devastated.”
“Well, she can go on for one more day thinking her Robby was a good boy,” Matt said. “I was going to stop by and see Mrs. Wells on my way home, but I guess it’ll hold until tomorrow. But she did hire us to find out the truth and tomorrow I’m going to have to go over there and tell her.”
Veronica just shook her head and stared at the floor.
“Why didn’t any of this come out in the original investigation?” Nick said.
Matt scratched the back of his neck. “I think it was probably because the original assumption was that Wells was a hostage and no one bothered to dig any deeper. They see
a clean-cut kid like that in with a bunch of ex-cons and figure he has to be an unwilling participant. I think they didn’t want to believe it.”
“So how did you determine that he wasn’t; a hostage, that is,” Nick said.
“Because I did the one thing that nobody else bothered to do with all the information,” Matt explained. “I dug deeper into Wells’ background and his current life at the time. Turns out Agnes’s little boy had a bad habit—gambling. He was into some heavy hitters for quite a bundle and he must have figured that he could get them off his back with this one score and still have enough left over for himself. My guess is that he overheard one of the other three talking about the bank holdup and asked to get in on it in exchange for him keeping his mouth shut and for making all of their monthly reports favorable. Either that or one of them, probably Abbott, suggested it to him, knowing all along that he’d kill him once the job was finished. That way he wouldn’t have the trouble of binding and gagging the kid and keeping him in the trunk.”
Veronica sighed heavily. This is not the outcome she was hoping for. She looked up at her father. “Did you tell any of this to the local authorities?”
Matt shook his head. “I told the Victorville cops that I’d let them know what I found, but I didn’t say it would be right away. I figured I’d sit on it for a while and think about it. Why do you ask?”
“No reason,” Veronica said, rising from her chair and grabbing her jacket and purse. “I’ll see you both tomorrow.”
Nick got up as well. “I don’t envy you your job tomorrow, Dad,” he said as he headed for the door. “See you tomorrow.”
Matt sat there, alone with his thoughts.
All three were back in the office early the next day. Nick told his father that he had to go out on an interview with a potential client in the valley. “I should be back before noon,” he said. “Sounds like a simple case of insurance fraud. Either way, the case wouldn’t be starting until tomorrow afternoon.” Nick grabbed his briefcase and his hat and left the office again.