It sounded almost impossible, even in his fantasy. But he had a million reasons to think outside the box.
“And then there’s the safety deposit boxes,” Bruce went on. “There’s a small fortune in those alone. I bet there’s another million in them. People put all kinds of valuables in there every day - diamonds, gold, stocks and bonds - all kinds of things.”
Two million dollars in one bank? It seemed almost too good to be true, especially if someone was so inclined to try to help themselves to the small fortune.
For a small town, Centertown wasn't hurting for money. The town was, per capita, one of the most affluent in the state. There was a collection of ranches, farms and plant nurseries located on the other side of the river in Newtown. The unemployment rate was also one of the lowest in the state. Three industrial plants employed much of the middle class. The plants were all in the suburbs of Centertown, located in new town, on the other side of the river. Actually, most of Henderson County was on the other side of the river.
While Centertown had a total of nine thousand including the suburbs, Henderson County had a population approaching forty thousand as most residents lived outside the city limits in what was a historically rural community. It likely had something to do with the price of land which was nearly double within the city limits. It was also like the city of Centertown was a private club that only the rich could join. There was a lot of old money in the old part of town and Harold wanted some of it. While only one in ten people in Henderson County lived within the four bridges that surrounded downtown Centertown, most of their money existed within a couple of square miles.
On Main Street alone there was City Bank and First Third Bank. If one followed the one-way Main Street on around they would also run into the Farmer's Bank, all three easy walking distance from one another. Just down the street from those were the City Bank branch and the First Bank of Centertown.
Harold realized the bank he had often fantasized about robbing was only one of five banks in Centertown, all being honey pots, their vaults loaded with money just before Christmas after stores made their deposits during the holiday shopping rush. It was a small fortune - no - it was a large fortune just waiting to be taken from the rich people of Henderson County. It was just getting to it without spending the next twenty years in a federal penitentiary that was the issue. How could a person get in and out before police arrived? And further, how could that person avoid some gung-ho detective from tracking him down before he could spend the money even if he avoided apprehension at the bank?
Then it hit him. What if there were no police to respond? What if there were no alarms to sound? What if there was no one downtown? What if there was no one to tell the officer “He went that way.” or to provide a description?
It was that thought that made Harold first throw the idea before his co-conspirators around the poker table, floating it almost like a jig to see if anyone would bite. At first, as he figured, the idea was dismissed as impossible, although he noticed none of his four cohorts resisted the idea on moral grounds. Instead, they suggested it would never work based on the thumbnail sketch Harold threw before them. After just a couple of months, however, Harold noticed he would rarely have to bring up the discussion. The other members of the poker group would start in on the topic, introducing their ideas and theories. He saw the excitement in their eyes as he sat back and watched. After a while, he knew they were ready to go all-in on the grandiose plan. It would just be a matter of time, since circumstances had to be just right. The wheels had been placed in motion.
Walking through the brisk winter air to his Sunday evening summit meeting at Ralph's place, Harold already knew what his decision would be. Actually, he knew what it would be a year ago when they began discussing the plan at length. However, for it to be a go, all five would have to be unified. If one opted out, the plan was off and it was back to their humdrum lives. They were all necessary for the success of the mission, each bringing their own specialty.
Harold rounded the corner and cracked a smile, seeing the other three had beaten him to Ralph's house, their cars parked out front. This was a good sign.
"Come on in," Ralph said.
The senior member of their group met him at the door, ushering him into his outdated living room. The smell of mothballs and old people filled his nostrils as they always did when he visited Ralph's place. It was as if his house was frozen in time.
Harold found the others sitting around the living room, beers in hand, the Bears and Packers on television. Doug was the only one watching the game intently. That told Harold he had money riding on the game.
"Packers or Bears?" Harold asked plainly.
"Neither. Took the over for a nickel," Doug said.
His cryptic reference meant he had bet five hundred dollars on a high scoring affair despite the fact it was raining like cats and dogs in Green Bay. Doug should have watched the weather forecast before throwing his money away on an ill-advised wager.
It was no secret to the rest of them that Doug had a gambling problem, betting on almost anything from college basketball all the way down to little league baseball.
However, unknown even to his closest friends, he had amassed large gambling debts over time and was into it for a large sum of money with some rather dangerous individuals.
"Let's get the show on the road," Randy spoke up, obviously impatient to get things going. "Are we all in?"
Looking around the room, Harold made eye contact with each, all four nodding in the affirmative, agreeing on the life-changing plan without a word being spoken. They had talked about it so much in the past, who needed to say anything?
Taking off his coat and grabbing a seat from the kitchen, Harold brought it to the edge of the living room, turning it around so he leaned against its back. It was time to get down to brass tacks.
"What about the hired help?" Harold began, addressing Doug who was still staring at the television.
"How many do we need?" he responded without looking up, his money obviously in peril in the NFC North battle.
Harold paused to think, rubbing his chin and looking over at Randy.
"Five. Do you think you can do five?" Harold answered. Randy nodded his head, telling him that arranging for five contract helpers would be possible
"I think I can round up that many. Ten K apiece, right?" Doug confirmed, Harold nodding in the affirmative.
"Shouldn't be a problem," he continued. "I know guys who would kill their own mamas for ten thousand dollars."
Turning his eyes back to Randy, Harold went to the next item on his checklist.
"What about the equipment?" Harold asked. "Will it be a problem to equip everybody?"
"Shouldn't be a problem," Randy proudly bragged. "I have access to enough fire power to equip a small army. If this works, I should be able to buy plenty more. I may open my own gun shop."
The business meeting was interrupted by Doug throwing the remote.
"There goes five hundred bucks," Doug said, losing his wager, his attention now on the meeting at hand.
"Hey, easy with the remote," Ralph said, as he walked over to pick it up from where Doug had thrown it during his little fit.
Jerry spoke up from his perch where he had been sitting by himself on the love seat, plugging away on his smart phone the past few minutes. "So, when are we planning to do this?"
Standing up to walk around like an executive in a board meeting, Harold began his walk-through of the crime.
"We want to maximize the amount of money available so it needs to happen just before Christmas because that's when the banks and the shops are full of money and valuables," he began. "We also need the advantage of the weather. We need it to be cold and snowy. It would be great if we were to have a white Christmas this year. If I had to pick a date right now, I'd say Christmas Eve but we'd have to get really lucky."
"Why’s that?" Ralph asked, wondering if Harold had just pulled a date out of the air.
"The downtown
Christmas party," Harold countered, reminding Ralph of the annual event that much of Centertown attended. "You have half the town in one place making them easier to account for. And, this year, I guess you've heard, Centertown is giving away five thousand bucks to some lucky resident. You have to be present to win, so I'd say most people will be present. I know I will."
The group sat silent for a minute, each considering the gravity of the plan they had just agreed upon, their silly little poker talk now becoming what the law would consider a criminal conspiracy.
"We have just over a month before the target day so I say we go ahead and get things set in motion," Harold continued. "We all have things we need to do in advance so I suggest we get on it. If we don't get the weather conditions we need then we pull the plug, at least for Christmas anyway. We have to have the advantage of the weather for this to work."
And get on it they did, the men going their separate ways, all tending to their tasks even as Thanksgiving decorations gave way to Christmas lights. They also stepped up their meetings, holding their "poker party" three nights a week, nights they would use to rehearse their roles in what would be one of the greatest performances seen anywhere. If done right, the people of Centertown would never know what hit them. The Grinch had nothing on the five.
HOLLY JOLLY CHRISTMAS
Even his heavy coat wasn't enough to cut the chill of the bitter winter night as Joe walked the three blocks from his house to the civic center for the town Christmas party. They say it was one of the coldest Decembers on record and Joe believed it. The mercury had barely risen above freezing over the past several days. Snow clogged the street prompting Joe's decision to leave his Mustang in the garage rather than risk some idiot slamming into his new ride.
Joe wasn't normally big on parties and would have been happy just to sit around and watch a Christmas special or maybe catch one of the umpteenth college bowl games on television. However, two things brought him out on this chilly night. First was the five thousand dollar grand prize the town was giving away at the party. He could use five thousand dollars, but then, so could most people. He knew he would be just sick if his name was called and he wasn’t there to claim the cash. High school football coaches aren’t exactly paid executive wages and he had a car payment to make.
Joe had entered the contest fifteen times at various participating stores across town. The whole five thousand dollar giveaway was part of the Shop Centertown First campaign. Every time a Centertown resident made a purchase of fifty dollars or more at a local store, their name was entered in the pot. Joe had kind of cheated on that part, using his job as football coach for the Henderson County Sentinels to purchase equipment for the team from the sporting goods store. He would then enter his name in the contest after each purchase. Hey, he was shopping Centertown first so he was just slightly bending the rules.
While money had a little to do with his braving the bitter cold, there was another reason for his walk through the snow. That reason had a name - Brittany. He had met the gorgeous twenty-something brunette at one of the games that season and had fallen hard for her. He wasn't the stalking type but he had more than a passing interest in the curvy brunette, often putting himself in position for "chance meetings" with her in public places. He was always quick to concoct some reason to bump into her when he saw her out. On some rare occasions he would even untie his tongue and say a few words, normally saying something that came off stupid.
He had, following a few months of spinning his wheels, gotten around to getting her number and the pair had shared some rather interesting late night conversations. Tonight, Joe had resolved to ask out the sexy administrative assistant. Perhaps he would even whisk her away from the crowded civic center for a romantic moonlit walk in the snow.
Joe turned the corner to the civic center and saw, much to his chagrin, there was a full house. The entire parking lot was packed with cars despite the less-than-ideal driving conditions. Despite the best attempts of the road crews, the streets were treacherous since the snow was accumulating quicker than it could be moved.
Being a relative newcomer to the hamlet and not realizing how seriously the townspeople took their annual gathering, he had actually expected the whole party to be called off in the name of safety since it would put so many people on the road. However, given the thousands of dollars already spent on catering and the show-must-go-on attitude, the party was going ahead as planned.
As he neared the arena he knew, with some dread, he would be stopped a thousand times only to be asked the same old question - "How are those Sentinels going to do this year?" to which he would reply, "I think we are going to have a competitive squad."
High school sports were king in Henderson County as evidenced by the huge civic auditorium where the three-time state basketball champions played their home games. The gymnasium area had seating for well over four thousand screaming Sentinel fans. It was a massive gym for a county their size. The same was true for the football field, located two blocks over next to the high school, where the Sentinels had made the state quarterfinals Joe's first year on the job as head coach. They had been eliminated from the playoffs by the eventual champions. For a rookie coach, Joe had done well and was quite popular with the people of Henderson County, most believing he could restore them to their former gridiron greatness. With the season ending just a few weeks before, football was still firmly in the minds of the Sentinel faithful.
Joe hoped some of the popularity gained by his great inaugural season would help him catch the eye of Brittany. After all, at thirty-two, Joe wasn't horrible to look at. In fact, he was quite fit and had several of his female coworkers at the high school falling over themselves to get him alone in the teacher's lounge.
He had moved to Centertown to take the head coaching job a few months before the season started. He left his former position as secondary coach at Andrew Jackson State College, located about an hour's drive away, for the opportunity to take the reins of the program. He figured taking a high school head coaching position would be a feather in his cap when it came to filling out head coaching resumes in the college ranks. His ultimate goal was to become the head coach of a Division I program. He was paying his dues now for what he hoped would be a successful head coaching career in the college ranks. Perhaps, dare he even dream it, a head coaching job in the SEC.
Joe walked past the decorative light poles, all decked out like candy canes with wreaths at their tops, as he made his way into the building. He was immediately met with the press of bodies. The crowd that stuffed the civic center was bigger than any crowd he had ever seen for basketball, or football, for that matter. Of course, they don't give away five thousand bucks at home games.
As he predicted, Joe spent several minutes chatting with athletic supporters, all of whom wanted their own conversation with the head ball coach. He felt like a politician, stopping to greet what felt like every citizen of Centertown. He shook hands until his palms hurt.
After glad-handing the numerous athletic supporters, Joe made his way into the arena. The sound of "Holly, Jolly Christmas" was playing on the overhead sound system. A couple thousand people were milling about, enjoying complimentary cocoa and those little holiday cookies while showing off their Christmas outfits.
The drawing was to be in just a few minutes. Joe figured that would clear out the better part of the crowd once the money was given away. Scanning the mass of humanity, more green and red than he could shake a stick at, he spotted Brittany by the steps of the stage. She was dressed for success, her tight green skirt hugging her hips in a way that almost hypnotized Joe as he watched her from across the room.
Taking a roundabout way to her location, he avoided chatty sports fans like an agile running back avoiding tacklers. With his stealthy movements, Joe snuck up behind her, putting his hands over her eyes.
"Guess who?" Joe asked playfully.
While jumping at first, startled by his surprise approach, a smile crossed Brittany's face once she realized who
was behind her.
"Hmmm. You don't smell of cookies and milk so I know you aren't Santa Claus," Brittany began in a flirty tone. "Let's see, in that case I think it's that good-looking new football coach that everybody likes so well."
"Wow, you're good," Joe replied.
He took his hands off her eyes as he looked at her with a big smile. Brittany turned around to look at him, her eyes beaming. He could tell she was legitimately happy to see him.
"So, what brings you here?" Brittany began. "Oh wait, let me guess. You have five thousand reasons to be here."
Laughing at her witty response, Joe decided to get a little brave.
"No, I’m actually here to see the mayor's hot little personal secretary," Joe said, looking at Brittany.
"Hey, that's administrative assistant," Brittany countered. "I don't make coffee."
Things were looking up for Joe as the two exchanged pleasantries for several minutes, Brittany obviously warming up to the coach. Actually, Joe had caught her eye not long after he arrived in town but a complicated boyfriend situation had prevented her from responding to what she realized were his subtle advances. She had to admit, she got a kick watching him fall all over himself trying to get her attention like a fourth grader showing out for his first crush.
"How about we blow this Popsicle stand and go for a walk in the park?" Joe began.
His romantic offer was interrupted by Mayor Thorn as he walked up behind Brittany, taking her by the arm and leading her up the steps to the stage.
"Time to get the show started," the mayor told Brittany as he led her up the stairs.
The very nicely dressed administrative assistant mouthed "I'm sorry" to Joe as she was ushered away by her boss who had apparently not even noticed she was involved in a conversation.
"Well, that sucks," Joe said under his breath.
He resolved to wait right there at the foot of the stage until after the giveaway to again make a pass at his love interest. Who knows, perhaps they would call his name and he and Brittany could go out celebrating.
Average Joe Page 4