A World Without Secrets (18 page)

God
, I thought,
I am really getting paranoid
. But I didn't forget the old saying that goes: Just because you're paranoid doesn't mean they're not out to get you.

Satisfied that my apartment hadn't yet been bugged—
yet
, I turned in.

* * *

The next afternoon I drove my rental car to the bank where the robbery had occurred. I had awakened late because of the traveling and because I'd stayed up watching my apartment for so long. I showed my ID to the manager and asked for a little time.

"It's not that I don't want to cooperate with the FBI, but how many times am I going to have to retell that story?" the manager, a Mrs. Cromsby, asked with a hint of irritation in her voice. "It's been a year now, and it seems like every month another one of you folks shows up to ask about it and ask if I've remembered anything new."

"I'm probably going to be one of the last. I only get cases that are so cold I have to be careful not to get frostbite. The leads in this case are slim. I'm sort of the
last resort
team. It appears that little more can be done unless the robbers strike you again."

"My God, you don't think they'd come back
here
again, do you?"

"It's possible. They had an excellent haul and have gotten away clean, so far. It's the Christmas buying season and I'm sure you're handling a lot of cash from merchants. Criminals have been known to return to a location and rob it again under such circumstances. We want to catch them before that."

"Well I'll certainly tell you everything I know, Special Agent James. You know, your name is just like the name of the famous art recovery expert who's been in the news so much this year. Are you any relation?"

"Uh, yes, but I'd appreciate it if you didn't mention it to anyone else."

"Oh, I understand. It must be embarrassing to see him get all kinds of press coverage for his investigations while you just work quietly for the government and do your job without much fanfare."

"Something like that."

Mrs. Cromsby nodded sympathetically. "What would you like to know from me today?"

"I'd just like to see the vault where the cash was stored. And I don't imagine you've remembered anything else you forgot to mention to earlier investigators?"

"No, nothing I haven't already stated a dozen times. Follow me and I'll show you our vault."

Mrs. Cromsby led the way to the vault and pointed out where the money had been.

"The report says the cash didn't contain any exploding dye packs."

"That's right. The cash had just been delivered by armored car and hadn't been processed yet."

"Does that suggest the bank robbers might be familiar with your operations?"

"Not necessarily. We weren't sure when the money would arrive, so I don't know how anyone else could have been unless they had a contact inside the armored car company or one of the two event venues."

"Did they have any difficulty carrying the cash?"

"Well, there were only two of them. Money is heavier than most people realize. Think of how difficult it is to carry a large box of photocopier paper. They used our vault cart to transport the filled duffel bags through the bank and out the doors. I'm sure they would have been too heavy for a normal person to carry."

"Were they military-style duffel bags?"

"They were just large, black, canvas-like bags. I don't know if the military uses the same ones."

"I understand. Has anyone else remembered anything since the crime that might not have been reported? The smallest detail could be important. Sometimes employees discuss a robbery over coffee and someone remembers something they didn't realize they knew or didn't think was significant."

"Not that I've heard. We were all terrified. I tried to remember all I could, but we never got a good look at them. I can't even tell you their skin color. And they wore those dark goggles, so we didn't see their eyes. I'm reasonably sure they were both male, but they made us get down and look down at the floor. We didn't have an opportunity to see much after that except what you see from the corner of your eyes."

"I'm sure it was a harrowing experience. I'm glad no one was harmed. Thank you for your cooperation, Mrs. Cromsby. I'll be around for several days, and I may stop back if I have any more questions. We want to catch these people so they don't put anyone else through what you experienced."

"Thank you, Special Agent James. I'll be happy to cooperate in any way I can."

"Thank you. Good day."

I left the bank and walked around outside. I hadn't yet used the gizmo to watch the robbery because I wanted to experience the case as the other investigators had. I walked away from the building through the parking lot, then turned to get a complete perspective of the area. I next walked through the alleyway alongside the bank. It was believed the robbers had approached the bank from there, donning ski masks and goggles just before entering the bank. There were no outside cameras. The alley led to a street behind the bank, and it was there that the skateboarders reported seeing the bank robbers drive away.

There was very little traffic this time of day, and only a couple of cars passed while I walked around behind the bank. Across the street was a wooded lot, further limiting the opportunity to find any witnesses. I continued walking around the building housing the bank until I was back in the front parking lot where my rental car was parked. As I stood looking at the bank building, a police car pulled up. Its lights began flashing as the two officers got out.

"We've had a report of a suspicious individual walking around the bank. May we see your ID, sir?" the police officer asked.

I unbuttoned my suit coat to get to my inside pocket and a sudden breeze caught one side, whipping it open. The second officer yelled "Gun!" and both pulled their weapons.

"Take it easy, guys," I said calmly as I raised my hands slowly. "We're on the same side. I'll show you my ID." I reached into my coat pocket slowly and lifted out my ID wallet. Holding it up, I flipped it open.

The first police officer walked towards me cautiously and took the ID wallet, comparing the picture before returning the ID and holstering his weapon. The second officer holstered his as well.

"Sorry, Special Agent James," the first officer said. "People around here have always been curious about strangers, but ever since the bank robbery, they're positively paranoid and report every stranger they see."

"Understandable. And I won't criticize anyone for reporting strangers who appear to be acting suspiciously."

"I assume you're looking into the bank robbery?"

"Yes. I was just assigned the case yesterday."

"You should have checked in with our Captain so we would have been alerted to your presence in the area."

"I see that. I'm glad you're so alert. Was either of you on duty the day the robbery occurred?"

"I was with one of the first units to respond. Joe here," he said pointing to the second officer, "was on vacation."

"Yeah," Joe said disgustedly, "the only bank robbery in my three years on the force, and I miss it."

"Not much to miss as I understand. The crooks were long gone before the call was even made."

"They had plenty of time to get away all right. They were probably thirty miles from here before we arrived and got a basic description."

"Did you see the two kids who witnessed the perps driving away?"

"Yeah. They were down at the station for hours. It took a while for the sketch artist to arrive and do her thing. They were driven home as soon as she completed the drawings. Those robbers were ugly cusses, according to the kids."

"No wonder they wore masks," the officer named Joe joked.

I nodded. I'd seen the sketches in the file. "I'll stop in and see your Captain now. What's his name?"

"Ed Marcove."

"Okay, guys. Thanks."

* * *

I drove to the station and introduced myself to the captain, who looked at my ID closely. Where the two young officers were in good physical condition, the Captain probably had trouble tying his own shoelaces.

"Special Agent Colton James, eh? Why is that name so familiar?"

"I've been involved in a couple of art recoveries. I've only just begun working for the Bureau."

"That's it. The robberies in Boston and Philadelphia. I read about them. Both were cold cases when you started investigating. Spectacular work, James."

"Thank you, Captain. I was lucky."

"I hope you get lucky on this one. It appears that our felons got away clean."

"So far. But we'll get them. It's only a matter of time. The most surprising thing is that they haven't pulled another job yet. Successful crooks usually keep working at it until they take a fall."

"Yeah, but these guys seem to have dropped out of sight. They did make quite a haul though. It might be that they haven't gone through all the money yet."

Although the Captain was horribly out of shape from a physical standpoint, I had no doubt that he had a sharp mind. Having read all the reports, I was sure he had conducted his investigation properly and extended every courtesy when the FBI Special Agents arrived to assist.

"Perhaps. Either that or they're possibly incarcerated somewhere on another charge. Don't worry, we'll get them."

To this point, I didn't have a clue as to the identity of the thieves. There were a few things that didn't add up, but nothing that would point to the identity of the perpetrators. It was time to watch the robbery, so I headed back to my motel room and took out the gizmo.

After watching the theft from several different angles, I tagged each of the perpetrators. Then I followed them outside and watched as they dragged the duffel bags through the alleyway to make their escape. Learning the identity of the thieves was quite a revelation. Proving it was going to be difficult, and explaining how I figured it out was going to be even more so.

It was dinnertime, so I washed my hands and left to find a decent restaurant.

* * *

I remained in the area for several more days, just hanging around and re-interviewing all the people named in the case file. On Friday, I returned to New York. I went out with Kathy on the weekend and we looked at a couple of available condos on Sunday.

The following week I holed up in my apartment, working on the computer and preparing my report. Since I didn't have proof of what had happened, I detailed the sequence of events and named the suspects. It would be up to the Bureau and local law enforcement to prove the case by confronting the perpetrators with the evidence after their arrest.

After completing my report, I sent it to Brigman, then relaxed and enjoyed some time working on my latest story. I intended to take at least a week off to do some writing before looking at the other case.

* * *

A message was left on my voice mail two weeks after submitting my report. I was instructed to be at Brigman's office at nine the next morning. I took a cab downtown and was admitted after showing my ID. I was here so infrequently that the officers on duty were never going to recognize me as working out of the New York field office, but I told myself that was okay.

I sat in Brigman's outer office for over an hour and was starting to get fidgety when I was finally told to go in. Brigman was there with several other people— two men and one woman. I had met all three of them previously when they'd administered the second part of the entrance test. Brigman told me to sit down without introducing them. It was a few days before Christmas, but no one in the room seemed very festive. Their moods gave me a sense of dread.

"How did you come up with this wild theory, James?" Brigman asked, holding up a file folder that I assumed contained a copy of my report.

I wasn't going to acknowledge anything unseen. "What theory, sir?"

"Your bank robbery theory. What else?"

"It's the only thing that makes sense. The people in the area are definitely suspicious of strangers now, but I can't say what their attitude was before the robbery. However, I suspect someone would have noticed strangers hanging around, casing the bank. That indicates that the perps had to be local— somebody people see all the time and never even think about."

"But why these people?"

"It's logical. The facts don't fit any other scenario I've been able to put together."

"So you really believe two teenagers pulled off this heist? They drag the money out of the bank, then use their skateboards to roll it to a waiting car parked on a back street where a third perp, possibly a girlfriend, is waiting to take it away? They quickly peel off an outer layer of clothes that includes some padding to make them look older and heavier, toss it in the trunk with the money, and after she leaves they calmly wait around to be arrested?"

"Yes, sir. I believe that's the only way it could have gone down. And I believe they expected to be questioned, not arrested. People in the neighborhood would have noticed the boys out there just before the robbery, and if they were suddenly gone when the police arrived, it would have been suspicious. The boys were only teens by virtue of being less than eight months short of their twentieth birthdays when the robbery was committed. Their plan allowed them to give a false description of the vehicle and alleged occupants, thus sending authorities on a wild goose chase. It also diverted attention from the real vehicle, which I suspect is parked in the girlfriend's family garage just a mile away."

Brigman dropped the folder on the desk and looked at the other people. "Well?"

"Imaginative," the woman said.

"I told you he was a
writer
," Brigman replied. His emphasis on the last word seemed almost derisive.

"I don't buy it," one of the men said. "I watched the interview tapes. Those kids— correction— young men, were too calm. Only professionals could be that collected."

"I figure they were clean when they hit the bank," I said, "to avoid mistakes. After the accomplice drove off, they popped a pill or two. Maybe even three. When you watched the tape, you believed they were witnesses. Watch the tapes again, thinking of them as suspects. Pay close attention to their eyes."