“My citizenship belongs to Claire Hanson.”
“Who’s Claire Hanson?” Becca, who had been very quiet through the entire exchange, piped up from the shadows.
“Me,” Claire responded. “Sort of. Claire Hanson is one of my aliases. Sutton is my real last name.”
“So, how did you end up in America, living here in Virginia Beach when you could have lived anywhere you wanted to really?” Becca asked.
“Virginia Beach must be pretty lame compared to the countries you have been to.” I still had a hard time taking it all in.
“It may seem that way to you but I am very happy to be here, Susie. It’s sunny here all the time. Do you have any idea how grey and drab England can be?”
“Yeah, I bet it really sucks over there,” I muttered sarcastically.
“Susie!” Laura admonished me under her breath. “Let her finish. I want to hear the rest of the story.”
“There’s really nothing else to tell. I was very lonely until we all met a few years ago. This is the first time in my life I have ever had honest to goodness, real live girlfriends.” Her voice broke ever so slightly on the last word. She smiled at each of us sadly.
“When did you get the great idea for us all to rob a bank? You have obviously done it before.”
“Yes, Susie, I have done it before. After my parents were gone it was how I made my living.”
“And then one day you just came to the United States and bought a big house and an underground gun room. Excuse me—I meant underground weapons storage facility.” I couldn’t help myself on that one.
Laura jabbed me in the ribs sharply with her elbow. “Quit being a bitch already, Susie!” she hissed.
I shot her a nasty look and took a step back rubbing the spot on my ribcage where her boney elbow made contact. “Looks who’s talking!” I muttered under my breath.
“So, the idea to rob the bank? When did it happen?” Laura asked.
“I wanted to help you. All three of you. Things have been so bad lately, with the recession and I know you all have been struggling just to make ends meet. Susie’s accident was the last straw. I couldn’t sit by and watch your lives fall apart when I knew I could do something to help.”
“Like turning us all into felons.”
“None of you had to agree to it,” Claire shot back. “You can still back out, you know.”
“I thought we were all amateurs.” I let out a sigh of frustration. “If we were all novices then we would all be on the same page.”
“If we were all amateurs, we wouldn’t stand a snow ball’s chance in hell of pulling it off,” Claire answered hotly.
“Don’t be so sure!” I snapped back at her.
“You all need me to be in charge. It’s the only way we are going to pull it off.”
I crossed my arms over my chest and grunted. “I’m not sure there is enough room down here in this little room for Claire’s ego.”
“Knock it off, Susie!” Becca came out of the shadows and stood beside me. “We are all in this together but Claire’s right. She knows what to do—every detail. We will flub it up somehow without her expertise. You know it and Laura knows it and I know it.”
“Oh, did you suddenly grow a pair again Becca?” I snapped.
“You really are being such a total bitch today! I had no idea brain damage could have such a nasty effect on someone!” Becca snapped back, her left hand on her hip, her right hand wagging her forefinger in my face to make her point.
“I’m sorry but it’s not every day that you find out one of your best friends is a professional thief—and that it’s the family business!”
Laura scowled. “Family business or not, you are about to join her. Unless you plan on backing out.” Her words held a definite threat.
We all stood, staring at each other. Each of us processing the information and gauging the next move of the others.
Finally, Becca spoke. “I’m sorry your mom and dad died, Claire. It must have been awful. But, I am glad you moved here and that you are my friend. Thank you for sharing your story with us.” She stepped forward and hugged Claire.
“I’m glad I moved here too, Becca. It’s the first time in my life I have felt like I belonged somewhere.”
“So that’s it, Becca? You are completely OK with all of this?”
Becca just shrugged as she returned to her place by the stairs.
I turned to Laura for backup. “Surely you are not OK with this?” I asked her. “All the lies? The deception?”
Ignoring me, Laura returned her attention to Claire. “I just have to know one thing. Did you befriend us for the sole purpose of turning us into thieves like you?”
“Absolutely not!”
“Then how…?” I began to ask but Claire cut me off.
“I missed my old life.” Claire began. “But I knew I couldn’t go back to Europe. I left on sort of a … sour… note. I started entertaining thoughts of robbing museums and federal buildings but they were only dreams. Then Susie was so upset about money on the day we took her out to lunch that I wanted to help. And there is only one thing that I know how to do. I figured if I took charge we could pull it off without getting caught and you all would have the money you needed.”
The room fell silent again as the three of us watched Claire. She sat back down at the table, polishing the final gun, her back to us.
“All this warm and fuzzy is nice and all but I still have a few questions,” Laura said. “Like, are you wanted in Europe, Claire?”
“Yes,” she answered without turning around. “But they don’t know me as Claire Mitchell.”
“You don’t think Interpol has a handle on you?”
“I don’t know what they know or don’t know, Laura. I know I have never hurt anyone but I have taken a few things that weren’t mine.”
“What kind of things?” I asked.
“Expensive things. Jewelry, art. The sort of things my parents pursued.”
“Ahhh… so it is the family business,” I murmured thoughtfully.
“I suppose that you could say that.”
“Why us? Why now?” Laura wanted to know.
“I told you, I just wanted to help.”
“So, why not pass on some of your wealth? You obviously have a great deal more than the rest of us. If Susie needs cash, why didn’t you just give her a gift?” Laura had good questions. I wish that I had thought of them.
“I don’t know.” Claire had turned her back on us again to finish cleaning the shiny black firearms on the counter.
“I think you do, Claire,” Laura spat out. “I think that you had an agenda and we fell right into it.”
“No!” She slammed one hand down on the metal countertop. “I admit, I missed the thrill and the excitement. I am an adrenaline junkie and I thrive on high risk activities but I never meant to use any of you to fulfill that need. I just wanted to help Susie!”
“By suggesting that a woman married to a cop rob a bank?” Laura blurted.
I wanted to say something. Anything. Claire was a professional thief. She had suggested that we rob a bank and we had agreed to do it. Hell, I still wanted to do it! The prospect of taking back what was ours; of finally being able to rest easy at night knowing we weren’t going to lose our house was more than enough encouragement for me. Sure, Claire had suggested it but not one of us had said no.
“I’m still in,” I blurted out.
Laura whipped her head around to glare at me. Claire smiled and her shoulders visibly relaxed.
“Me too,” Becca said. Only Laura remained silent looking from me to Becca to Claire and then back at me again.
Finally, Laura spoke. “I never questioned whether or not we were still going to go through with it. I'm just pissed at Claire for not telling us the truth all this time.”
“I never meant to upset any of you, really, I didn’t,” Claire said. “I was in hiding. How could I tell you my real identity? Susie's married to a cop, for crying out loud. What
a relief to have it all out in the open now though!”
I totally agreed with Laura. We were already on a path to greatness, there was absolutely no way I'd back out now. “Oh, I’m not saying I’m not pissed that you lied to us all these years. But we made a decision and we have spent a lot of time planning and frankly I don’t see any other way to get out of the sink hole Andy and I are in. Desperate times call for drastic measures.”
17
Moving Forward
“Do I really have to use that thing?” Becca flinched as Claire handed her a pocket sized .9mm weapon.
“Come on, Becca, just take it. It’s the smallest one I have and it’s not loaded so it’s not even heavy.” Claire waved the small, brushed steel weapon in Becca’s face. “Take it!” she demanded when Becca just stared at her.
Gingerly, Becca reached out for the weapon. As tentatively as if she were attempting to grasp a hissing cobra, she closed her fingers around the barrel of the weapon. “Hey! This isn’t heavy at all. It’s actually kind of cute.” She examined the firearm from all angles while Claire passed on another .9mm to me and a third one to Laura.
Ours were loaded so they were much heavier than Becca’s and I would hardly call any of them cute but I knew from Andy’s small collection that the weapons were very well cared for and quite expensive.
We had established a sort of truce with Claire after her great revelation and now she introduced us to our weapons. “Have any of you ever fired a hand gun before?” Claire asked.
“I have.” Andy used to take me to the range regularly before we had children. I've always been pretty comfortable handling firearms but I could tell instantly that Laura had never gone shooting before. We all knew how Becca felt already.
“I can’t say as I have,” Laura answered slowly. She slowly turned the gun around in her hands, examining it.
Claire held her weapon out and pointed to a little lever on the back of the barrel. “This is the safety. If that is in place, the gun should not fire even if you press on the trigger. Before we go in the bank you will need to release the safety.”
“Why?” Laura asked thoughtfully. “I don’t intend to use it.”
“Never carry a weapon if you don’t intend to use it. That’s what Andy always tells me,” I murmured under my breath.
“That’s brilliant, Susie,” Laura shot back.
“Anyway,” Claire broke in, “The trigger is double action. If you press on it lightly, it will not fire. You need to give it a real push to fire the weapon. It’s sort of a second safety feature.”
I found myself wondering, as I stood in the secret room of Claire’s house, if she really knew what she was doing. I would hate to think that we were some sort of gross experiment for her. Of course, we were talking about her family business and if the generations of experience were any indicator then I guess the chances had to be pretty good. I just still couldn't fully wrap my head around it all.
By the time I left Claire’s house, I was still in a mild state of shock. Seeing Claire’s gun room, or more precisely the underground weapons storage facility as she referred to it, had nearly blown my mind but the story of her upbringing and her family tree was truly awe-inspiring. Claire was always so prim and proper, I found it nearly impossible to imagine her committing robberies for a living.
As I thought back over the past week, I guess I should have known. One of us should have made the right connections anyway. Claire was far too knowledgeable, much too directed and well-planned. She had the sort of planning skills that were only accompanied by experience. I couldn’t shake the feeling that if it had been before the accident, I would have caught on. I would have known something didn’t add up and I would have figured out what she was hiding.
Of course, I'd never really know for sure.
I fell asleep that night dreaming about the Four Lucys and how our lives would be so much better after Tuesday.
When Andy got home the next morning around eight, I had already showered and dressed and watching the local morning news. Ironically a Bank of U.S had been robbed the day before. I found myself wondering if Lawrence the debt collector had suffered any injury in the process. The sight of him as he entered the family room still in uniform and looking absolutely exhausted only strengthened my resolve to do what needed doing.
“Hi, Honey.” I smiled and patted the seat cushion next to me. “Wanna sit for a minute?”
He yawned and stretched. “Yeah, I guess so. I’m totally beat.” When my husband settled in next to me, he leaned his head back against the couch and closed his eyes.
“Andy?”
“Hmmm?”
“Are you working a double today, honey?”
“Hmmm…. No. Not today. Why?” He sat up and looked at me. “Are you OK?”
I rested a hand on his knee and smiled up at him. “I’m fine. I just wondered. How was work last night?”
“Pretty brutal, actually. We had a shooting.”
“Another gang banger?”
“Actually, no. Worse than that. A ten-year-old showing off with mom’s boyfriend’s handgun. Shot his four-year-old brother in the face.”
“Oh, Andy! I’m so sorry. Were you first on scene?”
“Yeah. It was a real mess. I tried to do CPR but there was nothing left to work with. The older boy didn’t seem to understand what happened. He kept asking when his brother would wake up.”
“That’s terrible, Andy. It must have been awful for you.”
“Not as bad as for the mother when she got home from work. You could hear her wailing on the next block.”
“Were any charges filed?”
“We took the boyfriend in for possession of an illegal firearm and contributing to the delinquency of a minor. Not much else we could do. No one wanted to charge the ten-year-old.”
“It’s gonna be hard enough on him living with what he’s done. I’m glad no one thought he needed to go to jail.”
“Yeah, me too.”
“I don’t know what is going on in this world these days. Banks crashing, homes being repossessed, kids killing kids. It’s getting out of hand. Someone needs to do something, don’t you think?”
“Sure, honey. But if you listen to that news you are watching, the government’s got it all under control. Bailouts. They are gonna save the country.” Andy laughed sarcastically. “By the way, I’m going in a little early tonight. Running DUI checkpoints and cell phone sweeps.”
“OK, what time do you want me to get you up tonight?”
“I’m gonna get up ‘bout seven. Oh, and I have to work on Thanksgiving.”
I sighed. “Can’t one of the rookies do it? You’re senior officer.”
“What the hell, Susie? I thought you would want me to work—it's double time pay! You’re always crying poverty so I take an extra shift and you get pissed!”
“Andy! Come on! Slow down, I just asked a question!”
He stood up. “I’m going to bed.”
“Andy? Wait. I’m sorry.”
“Forget about it.” He waved me off as he headed to the hallway. “I’m going to bed. Get some rest, Susie. You look pale.”
I remained motionless on the couch, staring after the empty doorway. My sweet, loving husband had turned on me so quickly. The stress and strain our marriage was under would crush us if something didn’t change soon.
Again, I longed to tell my husband that soon he wouldn’t have to work so damned hard all the time.
Andy and I barely spoke to each other the rest of the weekend and by Sunday afternoon I was chomping at the bit to get out of the house.
The ring of the telephone startled me. “Hello?”
“Hi, Susie, it’s me, Claire.”
“What’s going on, Claire?” I had not expected to hear from her that morning.
“I’m gonna ride by the bank and scout a place to park the getaway car. Wanna take a ride with me?”
Anything was better than spending the day with Ethel Timmons.
�
��Sure. When will you be here?”
“I’m out front right now.”
“Oh! Ok. Give me two minutes to get some shoes on and grab my purse. Be right out.”
After hanging up the phone I made my way to the bathroom and pulled a comb through my hair. Pulling on a pair of worn leather deck shoes, I grabbed my pocketbook and left the house.
Claire sat in her car at the end of the driveway. Despite the fall chill in the air, she had the windows of her Volvo down. Claire looked lovely and serene. Not at all like a serial bank robber and the only daughter of art and jewel thieves.
I climbed into the car and Claire eased away from the curb. We drove in silence for a while before Claire finally spoke.
“You are pretty upset with me, aren’t you?” -he asked.
“Why would I be upset with you? I mean, just because our entire friendship is based on a lie—ok, several hundred lies—there is no reason why I should be upset with you. Why would you think anything was wrong?”
“I didn’t mean to lie to you. I had to protect my identity to make a fresh start.”
“How did you do it? I mean, seriously, how did you fool the government? You need to prove who you are to move here.”
“I had all the proper identification.”
“You mean you had very convincing false identification.”
“Yes. As far as your government knows I am Claire Hansen, a student of anthropology.”
“Great. So now you are a liar, a thief, and a forger. Wonderful. I have great taste in friends, don’t I?” Crossing my arms over my chest, I slid down in the seat and turned to face the window. Claire stayed silent while I watched the houses and cars pass by. I had no idea until that moment just how angry I had been with her.
Finally, she spoke again. “I don’t think that’s really what has you upset.”
My head whipped around to stare at her. “What else would it be?”
“Well,”—she bit her lower lip lightly as she paused to think of a way to say what was on her mind—“I don’t think my being a thief matters that much to you because, technically, you will be too as of Tuesday. I also don’t think it bothers you much that I created a whole new self when I moved here. I think what’s really stuck in your craw is that I duped you. You don’t like being taken for a fool.”
The Heist Page 9
