"I agree," said Solomon. "They wouldn't risk being seen on a long walk to the bank, if only for fear someone could sound the alarm before they completed their mission."
"They didn't leave by the front entrance," I told them. "The remaining robbers bolted through the internal door so they must have all left through the rear exit. Why come in one way and leave by another?"
"It's easy to walk in an open front door," said Solomon. "Less easy to wrench open a closed, alarmed one."
"Good point. Gerald, is there an alley or service road that accesses both the front and rear exits?" I asked.
Gerald nodded. "Sure. Go down three units to the left as you leave the building by the front. The alley there intersects with another service road at the back of this building."
"So the vehicle they used turned into the alley, dropped the team off, and proceeded toward the back to collect them. That works," I said. "The vehicle could remain out of sight almost the whole time and even if it were observed, they probably drove a delivery vehicle or a maintenance truck or van, rendering it virtually unnoticeable."
"Lucas, I want you to get every camera within a two-block radius and find that vehicle."
"You got it, boss."
"I think we have everything we need from the camera footage here," said Solomon. "Let's go talk to Charlie again. Thanks, Gerald."
"Happy to help. You should receive a copy of the taped footage by tomorrow. Let me know if there's anything more I can do," said the security guard.
We left him to his monitors and walked along the corridor without talking. Between Gerald's powers of observation and Charlie's open door, there simply wasn't anywhere to avoid being overheard.
Solomon knocked on the door, announcing our arrival as we entered. Charlie looked up from his laptop, an expectant expression on his face. "Did you find anything useful?" he asked.
"We have some leads to follow," said Solomon. "Once we review the entire tape, I'm sure we'll have more."
Charlie nodded. "That's good news."
"But you could really expedite the process if you provided us with a little more information. I'd like to interview the owners of the security boxes. We need to know what items were inside them, whom they shared that information with, and so on."
"I'm sorry. That's just not possible. As for whom they told, we generally advise our clients to be discreet about any of the information they share, but it's not a secret that we hold bank boxes here."
"How do you plan to return all the rifled contents to the correct owners?" asked Solomon.
"That's not your concern," replied Charlie.
"Do you know if any other items were stored with the missing item you seek?" persisted Solomon.
Charlie frowned. "I don't think there were."
"Can’t you give me a ballpark value?"
"No."
"Is the item illegal?"
"No."
"Has it ever been for sale?"
"I can't answer that because I don't know." Charlie's eyes darted to his laptop screen, his unwillingness to answer further becoming clear to us all. "Can you give me an update later today as to how far along you are with the investigation?"
"Yes," said Solomon. "I'll give you any updates we get." He turned and we followed him from the room. Patricia waited for us at the end of the corridor and I wondered if she was lingering there the whole time or if Charlie just discreetly summoned her.
"One last thing," I said, pausing as I reached the door. "Can you send us the schedules of all the employees for the past six months? That, along with any information about persons who might have left your employ during that time."
"I can only think of one person who left, but yes, I'll have that information forwarded to you. I'd appreciate a heads-up if you intend to formally interview any of the current employees. I have no reason to suspect a single one of them being involved in any of this."
"Not a problem," said Solomon, glancing at me briefly.
"What do you make of all that?" I asked as we left the bank and walked away.
"Charlie remains consistently unhelpful with key questions," said Solomon. I didn't need to check his face to know how irritated that made him. I could tell by his loosely clenched fists and the lack of inflection in his voice. I wondered if he regretted taking the case. "Good call on requesting the employee information. It'll be interesting to see if there are any unexplained patterns. You're inferring it could be an inside job?" he asked.
"I'm not saying it wasn't. Gerald mentioned one guy who got fired recently and he wasn't employed very long. He might have a grudge against the bank that could have motivated him to reveal sensitive information for revenge or ransom. Anyone with criminal intent might jump at the opportunity."
"We’ll interview him and see what he has to say," replied Solomon. We reached his car and I handed him the keys as I sat in the front seat and Lucas sat in the back. He slid over to the middle to lean forward.
"There's another thing," I replied. I'd been mulling over something Gerald said that didn't make sense to me. "Gerald said he phoned the police and the dispatcher said they were on their way. Yet, I called the police after the robbers left and the dispatcher told me there was a maintenance note on the system that claimed they were conducting a test and not to respond to the alarms. Why did we get such clashing information?"
"That's curious," said Solomon. "Gerald didn't mention that?"
"No, and I think he would have if the dispatcher challenged him. If the thieves managed to post that note to ignore the alarm, what if they also had the bank's telephone lines tapped? Maybe Gerald only thought he was speaking to a dispatcher."
"That's possible," said Lucas. "Scammers do it all the time for fraudulent purposes. It wouldn't be hard to pull off."
"Get concrete evidence that is the case," instructed Solomon. "Any further ideas on what this stolen thing might be?"
"It's something that could fit into the size of a shoe box. Art should be excluded because it is probably too big," I decided. "So are gold ingots. Maybe one ingot could fit inside, I suppose, but that doesn't seem valuable enough for the effort they went to."
"Money," said Lucas. "Jewels. Something small, expensive, and rare, like a watch."
I turned. "A watch?"
"Some watches retail for hundreds of thousands of dollars!"
"Huh! Incriminating blackmail photos," I suggested. "Letters to a mistress. Looted antiquities. A treasure map. Your turn, Solomon."
"Counterfeit papers. Passports, birth certificates, social security numbers. A new, clean identity could be worth a fortune to someone rich and desperate to flee. Or real papers that could possibly reveal the identity of someone in hiding. Or a secret someone wants to keep concealed."
"Wow," I said, "what devious minds we share!"
Solomon laughed and turned the ignition key. "Unfortunately, so does the mastermind of this crime."
Chapter Nine
Compared to the tedious hours of camera footage I'd been relegated to examine since becoming a private investigator, the bank’s two hours of tapes were a breeze. Lucas disappeared behind his big desk at the office on the floor above. He had to track down and hack any camera feeds he could find within two blocks of the bank. That left Solomon and me together in the otherwise empty office. We were both studiously taking notes from forty minutes before the bank heist began until the police entered, their service revolvers drawn, after the robbers had already escaped. When we finished, we compared our observations.
"We're in agreement? There were six robbers in the bank," said Solomon, tapping his pen against the notepad.
I nodded. "Plus, a driver waiting somewhere outside," I added. "It makes sense for someone to remain with the vehicle for a fast getaway."
"A seven-man crew wouldn't be easy to put together. They would need to be experienced and trustworthy, and almost certainly well known to whomever planned the heist."
"Speaking of men, I'm convinced one of the crew was a woman."<
br />
"I think you're right. She had to be one of the guards at the door who remained with the hostages when half the crew entered the vault. There aren't many women in this game. That might narrow our search considerably, assuming she's been in trouble before." Solomon leaned back and crossed his legs, his face much more thoughtful. "I can't think of any female bank robbers crossing my radar," he added.
"I can ask Jord to look into it," I said, making a note to call him. No doubt, he already saw the footage but I wondered if he noticed the physical differences that made the female robber stand out to us. She wasn’t significantly shorter or stereotypically feminine in her body shape or even how she was dressed. She had strong shoulders, wore the same clothes, and acted quite familiar with her weapon. No, it was just something about the way she moved that caught my attention. Something elusive I couldn't really put my finger on.
"I think some of the crew are ex-military," said Solomon. He tapped his pen against the notepad again. "Several of them moved in a surreptitious way and they all deferred to this guy." He pointed to the screen where he paused it, indicating one man. "He's commanding the situation. They all answer to him."
"Except for this guy." I used my pen to indicate the man almost out of the camera’s view. "He shot Officer Andersen. He didn't search the security guard properly and when there was action, he must have gotten carried away. They didn't intend for that to happen. I'm sure they didn’t plan to hurt anyone but it did expedite their need to quickly identify Charlie Sampson. The shooting scared everyone."
"He could be the least experienced of them all. Perhaps not military, although he seems to know how to handle a gun. He's hotheaded too. Maybe someone who failed boot camp? A relative of one of the other thieves? Perhaps one of the crew suggested bringing him on for extra manpower."
I ignored his comment about failing boot camp because a few years ago, I did exactly the same thing. I made a rash decision to join up, and a sensible one to leave. The Army and I agreed on both counts. "Could be a weak link. Maybe he watched too many action movies and thinks he's a tough guy, since he's definitely not the brains behind it," I said.
"Agreed. My money is on the leader; I think he devised the whole thing. Either he wanted the item they stole, or someone approached him to put together a team. He's the linchpin to the whole operation. Find him and we’ll have everybody up and down the chain," said Solomon.
"The problem with that is I don't see any identifying features." I edged the recording forward until we had a body shot of the man we identified as the leader. Even with him in full view, it wasn't like watching in High Definition. "They are covered head to toe in black, and all dressed identically. I don't recall seeing a flash of skin or a glimpse of hair color. I was face down most of the time so I didn't see anyone’s eye color either. Most of them didn't talk so I couldn't identify any accents and the two that did sounded fairly generic American. No Southern drawl or East coast twang to make them stand out. The rest of the crew might even be foreign, for all we know."
"That's possible but pretty unlikely. We have plenty of home-grown criminals for hire," Solomon replied.
I pulled a face. "Such a comforting thought."
Solomon swiveled the chair and reached for my hand, apparently unconcerned about anyone walking in to witness PDA at the office. Although it was common knowledge we were married, we kept the mushy stuff to a bare minimum. For both of us, being professional was paramount. I had the added worry of someone accusing my investigative successes to being directly related to my extra coziness with the boss. So far, no rumors of that kind ever surfaced to my ears but I still remembered those days all too well. When I first started, my new colleagues thought I was an empty-headed nobody without an ounce of investigative skills. "You kept your cool all the way through that," he said. "I'm impressed. You showed good instincts from the get-go."
"By lying on the floor and keeping quiet until Andersen was shot?"
"Exactly. You knew any attempts to overthrow the robbers were futile so you stayed calm and waited it out. I can see from the tape that you were looking around and taking note of everything, which was the best thing you could do. You didn't have to help the cop who got shot but you took that risk too. Although it wasn't a serious wound, there was still the chance he could have bled out. You defused what was rapidly becoming a tense situation, and I'm very interested to know what you said to persuade them to let you assist Officer Andersen."
"It all happened pretty fast. I was at the hospital earlier so the first idea that popped into my head was to tell them I was a nurse. I said I could stop the bleeding and if they didn't let me, it would be murder. Oh! The robber who shot him was instructed to check him for weapons and he didn't, which was how Officer Andersen managed to surprise him. He didn't check any of us for weapons."
"Sloppy."
"Yeah, the guy in charge thought that too. He berated him for it. Wait! You can't tell from the tape but I think three of them spoke. The shooter who threatened the cop again. The boss who was ordering everyone around. And when he left, I told another man I was a nurse. He said he wasn't the shooter and I insisted he was culpable anyway."
"Did you notice anything about their accents? Any detectable dialect?"
"The boss had a generic accent. He could have come from anywhere. The shooter sounded local but kind of rough around the edges. I think the third man might have been from New York, or lived there as a child. I can’t be sure. His accent, if any, was very faint."
"So we have a seasoned criminal as the boss, a woman, and a New Yorker, possibly all ex-military. And this sloppy, local guy who somehow found his way onto the crew."
I frowned, thinking harder.
"What is it?"
"Only three of them, including the boss, took Charlie to the vault. I keep flashing back to it. They asked for him to come forward so I doubt they knew what he looked like."
"Or maybe they were pretending they didn't. It wouldn't be hard to recce the bank in advance and ascertain who was in charge."
I stretched my arms and worked out a kink developing in my neck as I replied, "I wish I could tell you more."
"You just did. You reminded me someone had to be in charge of the explosives to blow the vault boxes. They used just the right amount for the blast they needed. That takes strategic precision. It also takes practice and supplies. I think we should assume they rehearsed this. Plus, we can add bomb man to our team list." Solomon looked around at the empty desks. He thought for a moment, then picked up his phone and placed a call. "Delgado," he said, "find out if there are any suppliers for bomb-making materials in Montgomery and see if you can get a location on where someone might detonate them. It's a longshot as they could have practiced anywhere but the materials must have come from a specialist... Thanks... I should put some feelers out for who might be in the area with any military background." Solomon disconnected and looked at me. "Can you track down that bank employee and talk to the Feds?"
"I wish I could, but I need to get started with the Takahashi case," I said. "I can ask Maddox what he knows."
"Damn. I forgot. Yes, of course. Forget I asked."
" I should point out with Fort Charles nearby, there has to be a lot of ex-military settled in the area. That search might not be so narrow." Solomon and I both worked on a case at Fort Charles right at the start of my investigative career and another case took us there more recently.
"Point taken."
"If that's everything for now, I need to do some research on the Takahashis. Austen knows I was at the bank so he hasn't pressed me for an update but I don't want him to think I forgot about his wife."
"Go ahead. I need to make some calls anyway."
I pulled out my laptop to do some research. Solomon took his laptop and went into his office, shutting the door before making his calls. I checked my email first and found one from Austen with the information I asked for along with a copy of his pre-nup. There was also one from Charlie Sampson with the employee inform
ation I requested. Before I read through them, I picked up the phone and called Maddox. It might not have been very long since the bank heist but my call seemed way overdue. Also, why didn't he check in on me? That was so unlike him.
I dialed his cellphone and was pleased when he picked up. I initially had a small, unwelcome, feeling that he might avoid me, given my suspicion about his unexpected appearance at the bank. "Hi, Lexi," he said, his voice instantly warming.
"Adam, long time!"
"No, it isn't. We had coffee last week."
"Feels like forever. Doing anything interesting lately? Got any good cases?" I waited expectantly, then prompted, "Perhaps something local?"
Maddox sighed. "Nope."
"I heard a rumor you were looking into the bank heist."
"Not me!"
"I saw you there!"
"Oh that bank heist. I was just in the neighborhood."
"Really? You were just in the neighborhood? And you thought you'd drop by and take a look around? Read the responding officers’ notebooks? Speak to the bank manager?"
"Yep," said Maddox.
"I'm okay by the way. The blood you saw all over me probably didn't give that impression but I'm fine."
"I know."
"So you're not taking the case?"
"You would know if I were. Jord would have told you."
"Hah!" I pounced on those words. "You know Jord is on the case."
"I do."
"C'mon, Maddox. This is like trying to pull teeth. Why were you there? Why were you so interested in the bank boxes? I thought you only worked on high profile cases these days."
"Who said I was interested?" Maddox replied, his tone far too casual.
"Oh, please. Like I don't already know the answer."
"If you do, why are you calling me?" Maddox countered.
"Thanks for confirming you do have an interest."
"I never said I... are we going around in circles, Lexi? You trying to trip me up? Me trying to evade you? Like I would!"
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