For the sake of my family’s well being though, we needed to do this. And for the sake of my marriage we needed to not get caught. “So, we need definitely costumes. Not disguises but good old-fashioned costumes with masks and maybe even wigs.”
“So, like clowns? Or do you mean ski masks and black cat suits?” Becca asked.
“Neither.” I stood up and started pacing. “Let me think for a minute.” My mind ran through every movie I had ever seen with a bank robbery in it.
“We could do dead presidents like in that Keanu Reeves movie,” Laura said.
Inspiration started to hit. “That’s been done. Repeatedly. Hell, they made a movie of it.”
“I’m afraid Susie’s right. I really think we need another idea.” Claire picked up her tea cup and took a sip, as though we were sitting there discussing the weather rather than the best way to rob a bank.
Inspiration began to spark. “If we’re going to do this, let’s be original. What if we all wore the same costume? Then none of us would be more memorable or recognizable than the others.”
“I think I know what you mean,” Becca said. “That way when a witness tries to give a description of one of us, they are describing all of us but really none of us. That could actually be a pretty good diversionary tactic.”
“So, what are you suggesting we dress as?” Laura inquired.
“I don’t know. It is close to Halloween so that costume store downtown should be open. They usually have a lot of good stuff.” I walked slowly around the room, stopping to look out the window or pick up and examine a knick knack. This went on for a full minute when a little figurine caught my eye of a woman wearing a kerchief over her hair. Her skirts were bunched up in her hands and she stood barefoot in a barrel of grapes. My mind flashed back to the countless hours of reruns I had been watching in the past few weeks.
“We can all dress up like Lucy Ricardo.” I loved the idea instantly.
“Lucy who?” Becca asked.
“From the old sitcom, I Love Lucy. I am sure we could find masks in the costume store somewhere. We could each find a different dress and a different color handkerchief to tie over our hair. Pick your favorite episode- there were so many good ones.” I fell in love with the idea faster than I could get the words out. “Everyone—well, almost everyone—has seen I Love Lucy. Becca, you can find episodes on line if you need to.”
“I know who it is now. It just took me a second.”
Laura nodded. “Witnesses would be hard pressed to differentiate between what they saw us wearing and what they saw in an old episode of the show.”
“Especially a witness under the duress of having just been part of a robbery,” I said. “Andy is always saying that if three people witness the same crime, each one of them will remember it differently and they may all still be wrong.”
Becca spoke up. “You know, I think I like the idea. It’s a little corny, for sure, but it could really work.”
“So, we are agreed, then?” I asked. “We dress as the many faces of Lucy Ricardo?”
Each of my friends chimed in their agreement.
“All right, Lucy Ricardo it is then,” Claire said. “So, we have chosen a target and have a disguise. Now we need a plan of action.”
“I think we should check the place out first before deciding if it’s the one,” Laura said.
“You mean case the joint?” Becca grinned grinned proudly her own joke.
“That’s exactly what I mean,” Laura said.
Claire stood and moved over toward an easel in the corner of the room. I don’t know why I didn’t notice it earlier. She flipped the cover open on a large pad of paper and pointed to a hand sketched diagram. “I went in yesterday afternoon to check the décor and security features. There’re also a couple of cameras. I made this sketch of the floor plan.”
“Wow, Claire. You really ran with this, didn’t you?” Laura asked. I heard a mixture of annoyance and surprise in her voice.
“I just figured since it was my idea, I should have something to present to you when we met this morning,” Claire replied.
“Thank you for doing some of leg work but I think that we all need to make a visit to the building, to scope it out and get a feel for the place. Probably more than once.”
Laura walked over to the diagram and studied it for a moment. “I agree with Susie. I, for one, would feel more confident if I had a chance to see with my own eyes what we are dealing with.”
“Let’s meet at the bank tomorrow. Scope it out as a group, then come back here and work it up?” I glanced around the room at each of my friends.
“I think that’s a good plan,” Laura said.
Becca nodded. “All right. I can do that.”
“It’s not like the four of us can just walk in and look around,” Claire said. “That won’t be obvious or anything.”
“What do you suggest then?” I asked.
“We need to be nondescript. Act like customers.”
Laura nodded. “Like Willie Sutton. Blend in with the crowd—like we belong there.”
“Exactly,” Claire said.
Becca walked over to the tea cart and grabbed a little cake, sticking the whole thing in her mouth. “Okay, so how do we do this?” she asked around a mouth full of crumbs.
Claire handed her a delicate, lacy white napkin. “One of us asks about opening a savings account or a car loan. Maybe you can ask about mortgages, Becca. I’m going to rent a safe deposit box so I can get a look inside the vault area.”
“Why do we need to see inside the vault? There should be plenty of cash in the teller drawers,” Laura said.
She was right. Getting greedy would be a big mistake. “I agree with Laura. Let’s just go after what’s readily available. Why make things complicated.”
Claire gave me the sort of look I’d use on A.J. when I catch him sneaking cookies from the cabinet. “Seriously, Susie. Why go to all this trouble to clear out pocket change? If we’re going to do this, let’s go all the way. It’s the same crime no matter how much we take.”
“I just don’t want us to get greedy and make mistakes.”
Becca poured some more tea and picked up another little cake. “I have to say I’m with Claire on this one. If we are going to hell, we might as well enjoy the ride.”
5
Measure Twice, Cut Once
We agreed to meet at the bank the next morning at nine thirty then went our separate ways. The skies were clear and blue so I chose to walk home rather than take the bus. It was the first real exercise I’d gotten since before the accident and it felt good, even though it completely sapped all my energy. By the time I covered the three-mile distance home, my body ached but my brain buzzed with anticipation. My mother in law shot me a nasty look when I passed her in the hallway on my way to my room but didn’t say anything. For once, even she couldn’t get me down.
After a nap, I spent the evening making dinner and helping the boys with their homework. When they were both fed, bathed and tucked neatly into bed, I read them each a book and kissed them goodnight. When Andy finally walked in looking worn and drained, the guilt of the last few months hit me hard.
I watched as he stashed his gun in its lock box and tossed his badge, i.d. and three pairs of handcuffs on the kitchen counter. I could see he was dog-tired from his double shift yet he still had a smile on his face and a hint of humor in his eyes. He plopped down on the reclining couch in the family room and put his feet up. Andy was a good man. And I hated the fact that my actions would disappoint him in such a huge way.
Only if we get caught. And, we won’t.
“What a day!” He yawned long and loud as he pushed at the rickety old sofa until his feet were a good three inches higher than his head. “Now that feels good.”
“You’ve been gone all day. I was getting worried.” Dropping down onto the sofa next to him, I leaned in and planted a kiss on his cheek.
He eyed me suspiciously through half closed lids and let loo
se with another big yawn. “I’m surprised to see you up so late. I figured you’d have gone to sleep hours ago.”
“I’m not tired.”
“That’s good.” He reached over and took my hand, lacing our fingers together and squeezing gently. “You look a lot more like your old self tonight.”
“I feel that way too.”
“Good. I’m glad. Man, am I beat. I think I’m just gonna watch the news for a bit and then head off to bed.”
“I thought maybe we’d go to bed right now.”
He turned his head to look at me. “Right now?”
“Yeah.” I winked and motioned toward the bedroom. “Come on, officer. I think I need to be frisked.”
Andy grinned and smacked a big kiss on my cheek. “I’m your man then. Just give me a minute to check the weather for tomorrow then I’ll meet you in the bedroom.”
“Don’t be too long.” I climbed up off the sofa and pulled my shirt over my head. “I’m just going to get out of these clothes and into something more comfortable.”
“Don’t bother with the more comfortable part!” Andy called after me as I headed to our room, praying I wouldn’t run into my mother in law without my shirt on.
It took me all of thirty seconds to get undressed and into our bed. I could hear the echo of the weather man on one of the only channels we could get with an old antenna droning on about the forecast. Maybe another minute passed before Andy’s snores echoed through the quiet house. My poor, exhausted, over worked husband. Grabbing a robe to wrap around myself, I returned to the living room to find the love of my life still sprawled on the recliner; his head turned to the side and his mouth hanging open. A tiny little trail of drool already trailed down his chin. The remote control hung loosely from his hand. I couldn't wake him, no matter how much I really wanted to. After covering him with an afghan, I left the room and padded quietly down the hall to the kitchen where the old computer sat.
The ancient machine sat in the corner on an old wooden desk I picked up off the side of the road a couple of years ago; its idle hum in the background told me someone had left it on all day again. More electricity we couldn’t afford to pay for.
I walked over to the old computer and hit the space bar. The screen came to life in a flash of colors. The game of hearts someone—okay, my mother in law—had been playing stared back at me as I sat down in the folding chair in front of the desk. The chair creaked loudly, screaming for mercy, as I settled myself into it, careful to avoid leaning back too far. The back of the chair was only connected on one side and any attempt at stretching or reclining always resulted in someone sprawled on the worn linoleum.
Using the mouse, I clicked on the small x up in the corner of the screen and shut down the card game. Internet service was the one luxury I’d held on to. Finding a job required it. Opening the browser, I logged into my email. Dozens of messages promising larger size and longer stamina filled the screen. Not one response to the hundreds of job queries I had sent out.
Annoyed, I closed the program and sat and stared at my home search page. For the first time in weeks I had a ton of energy that made me anxious to do something. A quick scan of the news revealed little that interested me.
Shopping held no appeal since I couldn’t afford to buy anything anyway and I didn’t have the patience anymore for online word games.
Why not do a little research?
The name Willie Sutton brought up dozens of links. The first one showed the FBI’s most wanted criminals of the past that contained a comprehensive review of the life and crimes of Willie Sutton. A childhood in New York City, the various heists he was responsible for, and the way in which he got away with them intrigued me. He never harmed anyone and never fired a weapon. Instead, he found ways of getting what he wanted with his charm, wit, and ability to choose good disguises.
Once the great Willie Sutton had been caught and convicted of his crimes, the FBI and other agencies often turned to him as a security consultant, picking his brain for details that would allow them to create stronger security systems at banks and other businesses.
The man had been a freaking genius.
By the time I had read everything I could find on Willie Sutton, more than an hour had passed. I sat back gingerly in the old creaky metal chair and sighed.
I had no doubt now. Willie Sutton knew his business. It was all about the execution, not the actual crime. Measure twice, cut once. Plan well, have success.
I needed to get some sleep or I would be useless when we met at the bank.
Shutting down the computer, I wandered back down the hall toward my bedroom. Andy snored loudly and steadily on the couch. I stopped to give him a kiss on the cheek and check his blanket before going to bed myself. For the first time in years, I slept soundly and awoke feeling refreshed and ready to take on the world.
6
Just Like Willie
The bank had a lot more business than I expected. “There’s a lot of people going in and out. Maybe we should reschedule.”
Claire placed her hand on my arm. “Oh no. It’s much better to have a crowd. With so many people around, it will be harder to recall us if anyone were to ask.”
We stood on the sidewalk several blocks down from the old brick building with its peeling trim and mildew stained walkway watching customers come and go. Even from our vantage point, we could easily see the age of the building. Orange rust stains caused by decades of water sprinklers hitting the bricks ran down the side of the building like the shadows of bankers' past. Or maybe bank robbers' past… The large, double paned glass doors had clouded with the moisture built up over the years between the panes of glass. From the looks of the building, I had very real fears that they didn’t actually have any money inside.
“So, that’s it,” Becca murmured.
“This is it.” Claire consulted a small notebook she pulled from her pocketbook. “I gave us each a job to do while we make our inquiries. Susie, you go ahead and check out security features such as the number and location of cameras. Becca, you get a feel for the set up and Laura and I will get a look behind the counter.”
“How come you get to be the boss?” I asked.
“I’m not the boss, dear. We’re a team. I’m just the leader.”
“I think I want to be the leader.”
“Really, Susie? What do you know exactly about robbing a bank?” Claire held my gaze.
“What the hell do you know about it?” For just a brief flash, I thought I saw something in Claire’s eyes that told me she knew a whole lot more than she planned to let on. It disappeared as soon as it appeared though, leaving me wondering if I’d seen anything at all.
“Hours and hours of Matlock, Law and Order and CSI that I’ve watched while you raised kids?”
“You two might want to back off each other,” Laura said between clenched teeth and in hushed tones. “You’re going to attract attention and I’m thinking we don’t actually want that.”
Claire smoothed her sweater with her palms and turned a warm smile on Laura. “Of course not. What were we thinking?”
“Fine. Claire can be the leader.” I stuffed my hands in my pockets and turned to study a display in the bakery window.
Laura looked at them. “Girls, I’m actually not so sure about this. How’s robbing a bank going to solve our problems? Won’t it just create a whole mess more?”
“You chickening out, Laura?”
She shot me a nasty look. “Shut up, Timmons. I am not chickening out, I just don’t know if this is the solution to our problems.”
“You got a better idea, Jonas?”
“No, I don’t have a better idea.” She stuck her tongue out and flipped me the bird.
I returned the favor plus an extra insult about her mother and some combat boots. Claire scowled at us both.
“If you ladies are done wasting our time, I think we should head inside the building.” Her proper British accent made her sound like a school teacher instructing her childre
n on diagramming sentences. “If we stand here too long we are going to draw attention and that’s the last thing we need to do.”
“Well, then what are we waiting for? Let’s go inside.” I took off down the sidewalk. When I reached the wide concrete steps to the front door of the bank, I stopped and casually looked around. My friends had spread out along the sidewalk, window shopping and strolling toward the target. I half expected not to see Laura, but there she stood, only twenty or so feet behind me.
Stepping inside the building was like stepping back in time. I had to hand it to Claire, this was a perfect bank to target. The wide doors opened into a huge lobby. Stone floors polished to a high shine accented with red ropes delineating the lines for the counter. Everything looked faded and aged yet somehow still held a regal quality to it.
I stepped over to a high table full of deposit slips and other bank papers, pretending to search for something. Off to one side was a sitting area. Six faded red velveteen chairs were set up in two rows facing three oversized hand carved cherry wood desks. Each chair held a customer waiting to speak with one of the loan officers at the desks.
A quick scan of the space indicated three cameras. One pointed at the teller counter, one toward the main entrance and one focused at the loan officers’ desks. With as little as I knew about technology, even I recognized the cameras as dinosaurs. The one facing the door didn’t even have a blinking red light like the other two.
Laura walked to the waiting line of customers and joined it. Claire and Becca headed to the sitting area, making no indication that they knew each other. I watched as Becca surveyed her surroundings intently. A little-known fact about my friend is her photographic memory. Joining the line two people behind Laura, I watched as Claire disappeared down a hallway with one of the bank officers. She’d been planning to open a safe deposit box so I assumed that’s where the hallway led.
The Heist Page 3
