The Heist

by Carolyn LaRoche

  An old man in a security guard uniform dozed in a chair by the main door. His duty belt held a flashlight and a can of pepper spray. No baton, no gun, no Taser. Only the sandman would be threatened by him.

  Each of the tellers sat on high stools behind the broad counter, with no glass or polycarbonate barrier between them and the customers. It appeared each one worked from an easily accessible cash drawer somewhere under the lip of the counter.

  Laura finally reached a teller. I heard her requesting information on opening a children’s passbook savings account. The girl she spoke to passed her a shiny brochure. Laura thanked her and stepped away from the counter heading toward the large main entrance. Becca sat at one of the bank officer’s desks and Claire exited from the hallway, just as I made it to the counter. Once I got some information on checking accounts, including the free toaster if I open it and put in my first deposit of one hundred dollars, I headed out the door Laura and Claire had already exited. As I wandered toward the bus stop, I saw Laura get in her car and Becca exit the bank. Claire was nowhere to be seen.

  7

  Everybody Knows Joan

  “Susie? Susie Timmons, is that you?”

  Of all the people to run into, why did the good Lord see fit to toss Joan fucking Crawford in my path today? Not only was she the world’s nosiest neighbor, she held world records in gossip. Not the person you want to run into when you are scoping a bank heist.

  If I kept walking, Joan would be sure to relate every detail of how I ignored her on the steps of the Bank of Virginia, complete with time, date, and address to anyone who would listen. Andy, knowing darn well we didn’t bank there, would be her first target and he would question me like the suspect I was about to be. The safer choice, stop and speak to her with some stupid excuse then hope she forgot about the encounter in the days to come.

  Reluctantly, I stopped and turned, plastering on a fake smile.

  “Joan!” I plastered on my best fake smile. “What a pleasant surprise! What are you doing here?”

  “Well, bless your heart child! Imagine meeting you here, Miss Susie Timmons! I thought you’d be home in bed recuperating.” Her fingers fluttered to her heart like an old time southern bell.

  “A girl can only spend so much time on her back, Joan. Am I right?” I winked and gave her a sly little smile that made her face flush and her eyes fill with anger.

  “You should watch your mouth, young lady. What would your momma say ‘bout you talk trash that way?”

  “I do believe she’d give me a high five. What brings you downtown today, Joan?”

  “I come here every Tuesday morning to do a little business with my safe deposit box and I have never seen you in this neighborhood before.” Her lips held a smile but her eyes were dark with suspicion. “It is so good to see you out and about though. We have all just been so worried the past several weeks. I thought you might never recover. Poor Andy and those boys. It must have so hard on them.”

  “As you can see, Joan, I am just fine. The head injury just took a little time to heal itself. Andy and I wanted to play it safe until I knew I was completely recovered.”

  “I do declare, Susie! You’re as thin as a rail, bless your heart! Hasn’t anyone been feeding you properly?”

  Maybe my clothes hung a little looser than they used to but no one had ever accused me of being too thin. Joan could be such a bitch.

  “I’m eating just fine now, Joan. No need to worry.” I reached out and patted her forearm lightly in a fake gesture of friendship. “I really need to be on my way. The boys—”

  “I’m so sorry to keep you, dear. Whatever were you doing way over on this side of town? I’ve never seen you at this bank before.” Joan gave me a look that made me nervous.

  “Andy and I are looking at refinance options. Just doing a little comparison shopping if you know what I mean.” With a nod in the direction of the bank I had just exited, I shrugged my shoulders and continued, “You know how it is lately, money is tight everywhere. Just trying’ to make the most of what we have, you know?”

  It was a believable excuse. One I could defend to my husband should the need arrive. And not entirely a lie. I am trying to make the most of what I have, which is pretty much nothing, but who’s counting anyway.

  “Times are tough for everyone, sweetness. Things sure aren’t how they used to be. That’s for darn sure!”

  As she went on and on about the way things used to be and the way they ought to be now, I tried to look like I cared when I sure as hell didn’t.

  Across the street from where we stood, I spotted an ATM outside another bank. I knew from countless episodes of police dramas and even more conversations with Andy that most businesses had outside cameras and all ATM’s do. I know for a fact that Andy used ATM cameras all the time to collar drug dealers, pimps, and prostitutes.

  Laura, Claire, and Becca were all gone now. I needed to get out of there and fast. We were supposed to have an after-action report at Claire’s house about our little recon mission.

  “Listen, Joan, I hate to interrupt you but I really need to get going. I—um—have an appointment to get to and I have to catch the bus or I’m going to be late. It was nice chatting with you. See you soon.” The words tumbled from my lips rapidly, no chance for Joan to even begin to interject. I left her standing with her mouth open on the sidewalk as I hurried away up the street.

  When I made it to the corner I peeked over my shoulder and saw that Joan headed toward me again. I ducked inside an old bookstore and lost myself among the dusty volumes and overloaded shelves. The tiny space was way overcrowded—every available surface piled high with books. Paperback, hardcover, even leather-bound volumes. There had to be some real treasures scattered amongst the shelves.

  As my shoulder hit the corner of a tall bookcase, a large plume of dust poofed up and surrounded my head. Instantly, my eyes filled with water and the tickle in my nose led straight into a sneezing fit that doubled me over with its force. When the dust cleared and the sneezing finally subsided, I wiped my eyes with the sleeve of my tee shirt. As I righted myself and took another swipe at my still damp, slightly burning eyes, something caught my attention.

  A book, situated at just about eye level sat there, almost majestically as though it were waiting just for me. It had a familiar title. I lifted a hand to touch it, running my fingers across the binding before slowly removing the volume.

  The Life and Times of Willie Sutton

  How is it that in all the stores in the entire city of Virginia Beach, I happened into the one book store that had this book on its shelves? The sticker on the cover of the book advertised a sale price of ten dollars. The sign outside the store mentioned a half off discount. Five dollars was money I really didn’t have to spend but I had to have that book.

  “Fuck it,” I muttered, pawing through my purse. In a few days I would have plenty of cash to spend however I wanted. I just had to have that book now. It was like the Bible to me in that moment, an investment in our future. Pulling five crumbled dollar bills from my wallet I made my way to the front of the store and presented my find to the lone cashier. Transaction completed, I accepted the small, black plastic bag containing my book and exited the store.

  Emerging into the bright Virginia Beach sunshine, I suddenly felt rejuvenated. I couldn’t shake the thought that Willie Sutton himself watched over me somewhere, proud and excited by our living out his legacy. It was as though he had placed that book there and then led me to it. He wanted us to read it; get inside his mind and understand what makes a really good con artist tick.

  I saw no sign of Joan Crawford so I headed to the bus stop. It took me thirty minutes to make it to Claire’s house. The three of them were standing in the kitchen eating crackers and cheese when I arrived.

  “Who the hell were you talking to outside the bank, Susie?” Becca demanded.

  “My neighbor, Joan.”

  “Oh crap. Is she going to tell Andy that you were here?” Laura asked. />
  “I sure hope not. Probably, though. Joan is the neighborhood gossip—

  always in everyone’s business.” Of all the people to run into, she had to be the worst. “I’ll just tell Andy I was looking at refinance options. We are about to drop into foreclosure anyway. He’ll believe that. It’s what I told Joan.”

  “You are about to go into foreclosure?” Laura asked quietly. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

  “It’s not something I run around shouting from the top of Mount Trashmore, you know? I spent almost a month in the hospital. We haven’t been able to pay the mortgage in twice as long. Hell, isn’t that why we are about to rob a bank?”

  “I’m really sorry, Susie. I had no idea.” Laura gave me a one-armed hug.

  Claire stepped in the center of the group. “There is little we can do about running into Susie’s neighbor but we can definitely discuss our plans and get ready for the big day.”

  8

  Reflections

  Becca immediately went to the easel and put up a fresh piece of poster board. She quickly began sketching the interior of the bank. Her picture-perfect memory even noted exactly where each light switch and trash can had been located. When she finished, she turned to face us.

  “There.” She motioned to the drawing she had just created. “That’s everything I remember.”

  “You did a great job, Becca,” I said.

  “Absolutely,” Claire agreed, glancing at the piece of notebook paper she held where she had made her own sketch the day before. “I had forgotten to note the hallway leading to the safe deposit box room and the vault. Excellent work, Becca.”

  Becca glowed with pride as she took a seat on the small sofa near the easel.

  Claire turned to me. “Susie? What did you notice for security?”

  “Well,” I rose from the overstuffed chair where I sat and moved over to easel. Grabbing a red marker off the small tray attached to it, I explained what I saw. “I found three cameras. One hung here,” I made an X with the red marker where the camera that had faced the main door had been and used an arrow to indicate the direction it was aimed. “Another camera here.” I indicated the spot by a second red X on the paper. “This one faced the waiting area and the desks and the last one was trained on the teller’s desk.” One more red X indicated the third camera..

  “There were only three?” Laura asked.

  “That’s it and they were old. I wouldn’t be at all surprised if they were hooked up to VHS recorders. There is no way they could be digital.”

  “VHS? No shit?” Becca chuckled. “I didn’t think anyone had those anymore.”

  “Oh, and I almost forgot, the one facing the teller’s counter appeared to be broken. Three had a flashing red light on it but the last one had no light.”

  “You think it might be broken?”

  “That’s what I just said, Claire. It didn't have a light. The others had a red light.”

  “Relax, Susie. I was just thinking out loud.”

  “Sorry.” I muttered.

  “Don’t worry about it. I was just thinking of the benefits of the camera being broken. At least the actual exchange of money won’t be recorded anywhere. That might impede any investigation.”

  “Good point.” I conceded.

  “Did you see anything else?” Laura asked.

  “They do have a security guard.” I chuckled as I pictured the ancient old man snoozing in the folding chair by the main entrance. He would be less of a threat to us than to his own momma. We were safe there.

  “A guard?” Claire asked, puzzled. “I don’t remember seeing a security guard.”

  I laughed again. “I wouldn’t exactly call him a threat. He was older than dirt and the only thing he kept watch over was the chair he slept in.”

  The others laughed along with me at the thought of the man I had described causing any trouble and then Claire spoke again. “Still, we will have to make sure he doesn’t surprise us. One of us will have to be positioned near him to prevent him from making any sudden moves or phone calls. We can decide who later.”

  “What about the teller’s desk?” I asked. “What did you and Laura find there?”

  “Nothing out of the ordinary on my end.” Laura chimed in. “Just a stool, a drawer, and a computer. The woman was sort of a ditz and really old but other than that, nothing unusual.”

  Becca interjected with a raised eyebrow. “Wasn’t everyone working at that bank old? I mean, seriously, Laura.”

  “Does her age really matter?” Laura snapped.

  “Well, yeah, I guess it does. I can’t imagine a group of senior citizens chasing us out of the place like a lynch mob. Can you?” Becca shot back.

  “Anyway,” Claire cut in, “I saw the same thing at my end. Except…”

  “Except for what?” I asked.

  “The lady working the station closest to the door must be the head teller.”

  “What makes you say that?”

  “Well,” Claire explained, “She had a big ring of keys attached to her belt and…”

  “And, what?” Laura asked.

  “I caught a glimpse of something inside her drawer. A button.” Claire’s eyes were bright with excitement.

  “A button?” Becca asked.

  “I think it might be a silent alarm button, Becca. I watched her as she counted out the bills for my coin exchange. The drawer is arranged so that the twenties are on the left side up against the wall of the drawer. The button sits right in the middle of that same wall. She could easily tap the alarm while grabbing stacks of bills for a robbery.”

  “That could be a bit of a problem, couldn’t it?” Laura mused aloud.

  “It could but I don’t think it will be.” I interjected.

  “Come on, Susie, how could it not?” Laura actually sounded annoyed.

  I shrugged and looked over at Claire who watched us closely.

  “So, alarm or not, I still think we should be in and out in less than ninety seconds.”

  “That’s not very long, Claire.”

  Claire nodded at me. “I know, but it won’t take very long.”

  It bothered me how much Claire seemed to know about this stuff but I didn’t express that thought just yet. “If you say so.”

  “Here’s the thing,” Claire made eye contact with each of us before going on. “We have a real opportunity here to help ourselves. The money in the drawers will be like putting a band aid on an amputation. From what I could tell there was maybe a couple thousand dollars in the drawer I saw. What we need to think about is the vault.”

  “The vault?” Becca asked. “How are we going to get in and out of the vault in ninety seconds?”

  “We are going to have to do a little recon.” Claire flipped a new piece of paper up on the easel and starting writing. “We need to find out what day and time they get money delivered by armored car. It would also help to find out when the vault is opened each day and how. If it’s on a time lock, we need to know that too.”

  Becca spoke up. “I saw a sign on the wall by the hallway pointing down the hall and it said “safe deposit room” and “vault”. Maybe one of us could open a safe deposit box- that would get us a visual on the vault.”

  “Signing for a box might not be such a good idea.” Laura interjected.

  “I’ll go in tomorrow and ask to see some options.” Becca mused. “Maybe they will take me to the safe deposit room. With any luck, I could get a look at the vault.”

  “That would definitely help. Your memory is far better than any of ours.” Claire chuckled. “I am going to do a little research as well, see if I can find out anything about bank vault manufacturers.”

  “I will see if I can find out money delivery schedules.” Laura cracked her knuckles dramatically. “Just leave it to me!”

  “So, what do we do next?” Becca asked.

  “Good question.” Laura agreed.

  “We need costumes,” I said. “I can go out tomorrow and hunt down Lucy masks bu
t I think we should all get our own clothes.”

  The others nodded their agreement.

  “Today is Tuesday. Come back here on Thursday and we will compare notes.” Claire was all business again.

  “All right,” Becca said

  “Sounds good,” Laura agreed.

  Claire clapped her hands together as though she were calling us all to attention. “All right then, we all know what we have to do. See you all on Thursday and we will pick up where we left off.”

  I left Claire’s house whistling a tune and feeling very confident. It wouldn’t be long before my whole life would change. Just the thought of finally being able to catch up on the mortgage lifted a huge weight off my shoulders.

  9

  Balancing Act

  By the time I got home from Claire’s house my mind buzzed and my body was completely wired. Anxious to get to my secret find, it nearly drove me nuts waiting until the kids were in bed. We'd been trying hard to establish a routine that involved mommy again but no matter how hard I tried to put it all out of my mind, the events of the day kept creeping right back in and taking over my thoughts.

  I heard the bus pull up and met the boys at the front door.

  “Hi, Mommy!” Sammy ran over and grabbed me around the thighs, nearly knocking me to the ground.

  I leaned down and kissed the top of his head. “Hi, sweetie. How was your day at school?”

  “We had show tell! I brought my car!” He laughed as he danced his way in to the house driving his matchbox car through the air. Sam refused to say “show and tell”, no matter how many times I corrected him.

  “So, Susie, where have you been all day?” Ethel walked into the kitchen behind us carrying an empty laundry basket.

  “Running errands. I had some things to take care of.”

  “For seven hours? I mean...”

  “Yes!” I snapped. “What does it matter to you?”

  “It doesn't.” Andy's mom walked away. Her grumbling could be heard all the way to the living room. The muted sound of Andy, half asleep, asking her what was wrong followed. My first instinct was to storm after her but I held back.