As the loaded-for-payday armored delivery SUV was in a residential area about a quarter mile from the Amscot check cashing center, it was penned in by a garbage truck (stolen earlier in the day) in front and another SUV in the rear. As soon as the cash car stopped, people ran up both sides and plastered signs on both the driver window and the guard’s window. The one on the guard side said ‘You Exit, You Die’. The one on the driver window said ‘We Have Your Family’ and had a photo of the driver’s wife and kids with a masked man standing behind them with a shotgun.
The guard tried to make a distress call but found that his cell phone was neutralized and was not connecting to anything. The next sign was put on the windshield. It said ‘YOU HAVE ONE MINUTE OR IT ALL GOES UP’. The men tried to gather their wits and decide what to do when the guard had a knock on his window and a sawed off shotgun pressed against the glass. The guard had had enough. He wasn’t paid enough to get slaughtered for the company’s cash. He raised his hands, put his revolver on the dashboard and unlatched the door. He was pulled from the car, slammed face down on the grass, a bag put over his head and his hands cinched behind his back. His MAC-10 remained on the floor of the vehicle.
The driver unlatched his door, a bag was put over his head and he had his hands cinched to the steering wheel with plastic restraints.
With practiced efficiency, the rear hatch of the cash car was popped and the bins of money transferred into the other vehicle which reversed, turned around and drove away. The loss was $190,000, give or take.
When interviewed, the driver and guard had had little view of the attackers who were behind the signs and, of course, very quickly they were blinded by the bags over their heads. They also realized that the robbers had not uttered a single word.
There was one lady who witnessed the entire event from her kitchen window but could only say that there were ‘several people’ but they were too far away to provide useful description and the getaway vehicle was ‘a big van like an Explorer or a Suburban or something’. In other words, nothing. The signs were studied by multiple forensic specialist who found that the family photo was a Photoshop creation but with the faces of the driver’s actual family members. The family must have been surreptitiously photographed which only added to the evidence of patient, thorough planning.
In other words, a swift, flawless performance…again.
The caper the FBI found in their files turned out to not fit the profile of the other robberies and was set aside. It was a brazen and sloppy operation in Tarpon Springs involving four men who came into a branch bank, shot the place up and barely escaped due to some equally sloppy police work. Not the degree of polish and seamless operation that was the imprimatur of this small, slick gang of thespians. It was set aside as a distant possibility.
Dana returned Marianne’s call. ‘So, some other ‘performances’, eh? That’s encouraging. I know you guys put up the clues and facts on a board to map out connections and similarities. What’s emerging?’
‘Well, first of all, there is a small cast of characters and we’re looking at the individuals to see if we can match them up. We’re even giving them names.’
‘Like what?’
‘The man at Barnaby’s bank may not be as old as he was made to look. He hefted a very heavy duffle bag full of cash – we estimated about 50 pounds – and strode off with it like it was nothing. We named him ‘Arnold’ after Arnold Schwarzenegger. And, on the Amscot deal, the bins of cash were heavy and were transferred in less than a minute. No one saw those characters clearly but the eye-witness lady who saw them from her kitchen said one man transferred the bins like they were laundry hampers, not fuel drums. We’ve named him ‘Hercules’. May or may not be the same guy. At the bank, he was described as portly. At the Amscot heist, he was described as a lean athlete but we have some doubt about the kitchen viewer’s accuracy. She couldn’t even tell a mini-van from an SUV.’
‘Wow, this is fun. Who else?’
‘There seems to be only one woman, the one who was on the ground with the bloody skirt and the one at the ‘Bingo Bust’. She’s small, not much over five feet tall, and seems to have a slight limp. If it’s the same gal, we’ve named her ‘Hop Along’.’
‘Is that it? Two characters?’
‘Phil, Junior said there were five by his recollection; the old man who approached him, the lady on the ground and three others hovering over her. Phil may or may not be accurate but we do believe he saw more than two.’
‘Was the guy who injected Phil ‘Hercules’?’
‘Maybe, but he seemed older and thicker. Of course all of them may have been well made up but there are some things that don’t disguise well. Hercules, for example, looked pudgy and slow but moved quickly and strong. The guy who injected Phil with some drug we’re calling ‘Dealer’. He seemed larger and slower enough to convince Phil that he was in his 60s or beyond. But, we’re working with dicey witnesses.’
‘How do you scope out the eye witness account of the bingo manager? Why was he so sure?’
‘Our thinking is that the nice old lady who was caught and roughed up had been carefully observed and duplicated by the thespians. She was a great distraction while the robber lady escaped unseen while the back door was wedged shut.’
‘Okay, I’m making notes here. You have three actors; Hercules, Dealer and Hop Along. If Phil was right in counting five at the faux accident scene, who were the other two guys?’
‘Good question. We don’t have enough to even give them names yet. We’ll just call them ‘Gemini’, the twins, for the moment.’
‘Damn, McG, I hate to go home. This is getting to look like a solvable mystery after all. Is anyone working on the theatrical angle by scanning drama clubs and such?’
‘We are but it’s a bit fluffy. Drama clubs, by their nature, are rather casual with ad hoc casts being put together and volunteers drifting in and out. No firm rosters but we’ll comb them nonetheless.’
‘I had another thought if you’re not tired already of my blather.’
‘What you call blather, we call manna from heaven. Whatcha got?’
‘There’s an automotive angle to all this. No doubt you all have already thought of this.’
‘Actually, it hasn’t entered into our conversation. Please spill.’
‘It seems like any vehicles that are spotted in any of the capers just disappear into thin air. Are they being junked? Repainted? Shipped out? Where do they go?’
‘Decent questions all. We should make that angle part of our surveys. But, I have to tell you that we’re stretched pretty thin going after what we already have. But, don’t let that quash any new ideas you have. We love ‘em.’
‘Well, unfortunately, I have miles to go and promises to keep. I have classes and seminars scheduled at ye olde school house so I’m leaving tomorrow morning. Josh is in limbo, though. The poobahs in Tallahassee are taking their time on absorbing his report and deciding if or when they will implement any of it. Meanwhile, he’s been asked to hang around a bit longer on the clock. He’s savvy enough to have foreseen this so he has a hybrid time-and-materials contract that pays him for this sort of dead time.’
‘Clever lad.’
‘He’ll be checking in with you and I’m available at the end of the phone line, if I can be of any help. You’re gonna get these guys, Marianne.’
‘I’m feeling optimistic since you gave us the fresh insights. One way or another, we’ll be in touch. Godspeed.’
* * * * * * *
A nurse’s assistant tapped on Letticia’s door and said, ‘Mrs. Myers, there’s a gentleman to see you.’
‘Fine, Carole, show him in.’
She stood as a portly, rumpled man with a friendly face came into her office.
‘Mrs. Myers, please excuse the intrusion. I’m Detective Flint with the St. Pete Police Department,’ as he unfolded his badge and held it out for her to inspect.
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She glanced at it briefly and said, ‘I’m so glad to meet a real live plain clothes policeman, Detective Flint. I thought you only existed in crime novels.’ She smiled graciously and indicated a chair.
‘We’re doing a quick round of interviews of people like yourself who know the geriatric set here abouts. You’re the owner of Happy Days, as I understand it.’
‘Yes, I bought it when I came to town in 1982 and, frankly, bought it as a real estate investment only. But, while I was deciding what to do with this lovely old building, I got hooked on the business of serving older people, especially those with terminal illnesses and other special needs.’
‘Most admirable. This is one of the smallest nursing homes – am I right in terming it a ‘nursing home’? – in Pinellas County and the only one located in this up-scale part of town.’
‘Quite so. It was grandfathered in the Old Northeast back in the ‘40s and was one of the reasons I bought it. Initially, I thought it would make a wonderful conversion into an elegant home but have since changed my mind.’
‘Could you characterize the patients for me?’
‘Well, first they are old, but that’s a given. And, as I mentioned, many have terminal illnesses or other special needs like Parkinsons or MS. We’re the last stop before hospice, I’m afraid.’
‘I know this may seem an odd question but have you an in-house drama activity or connection with drama clubs or theater groups in which your patients participate?’
Letticia looked calmly at Donald and said in a steady voice, ‘Unfortunately, some of our clients are bedridden or otherwise mobility challenged. We try to entertain them as best we can and have visiting groups come to sing and such, but, no, we have no drama other than holiday skits by church groups. Perhaps if you told me what you are seeking I could be of more help.’
‘I’ve taken enough of your time. Thanks for seeing me without an appointment,’ and he excused himself.
As he was leaving, he thought, well, that was the classiest of the nursing home managers I’ve seen so far. Perhaps that’s because she is the owner. Quite a lady.
* * * * * * *
‘Perhaps we should lay low for awhile, Bernard,’ Letticia said as they were having their evening highball in her office. ‘The detective’s questions indicated that he is seeking elder thespians. Happily all our scripting, makeup and production have been done in house. They can scour all the drama clubs and theater groups they like but we won’t appear on anyone’s scope.’
‘That’s part of the genius of your construct, Letticia. You’ve been careful in your recruiting and vetting and have kept everything in house and under tight control. I’ve always admired how you found and trained each member of our team.’
‘You’ve been the hinge of the whole operation, Bernard. Your planning and sequencing and logistics have really made the events sing.’
‘And, what of you, my leader? Your master plan and patient development of the performances of your actors has been superb. You know how to put on a show.’
* * * * * * *
School was resuming and students and faculty were regrouping for the post-Thanksgiving session. Dana was busy with the details of getting the education machine restarted, at least her part of it in the History Department. Nonetheless, Bowdoin is a small school – 1700 undergraduates – and students and faculty mix easily. Dana spotted one of her best sophomore students with, she assumed, a parent and paused to chat on one of the walkways that crisscross the campus.
‘Hi, Brooke, welcome back to our little corner of The Enlightenment.’
‘Gee, hi, Doctor Ward. This is my mom. Mom, Miss Ward is a very popular instructor of history, one of my favorite courses. Favorite of a lot of people, in fact. It’s hard to get into her class but I got lucky.’
The elegant and poised lady held out her hand. ‘I’m Reeve Carter, Professor Ward. Brooke has spoken highly of you. Seems you have a way of infusing the drama of history to undergraduates. Brooke thought history was a drag until your courses.’
Dana laughed, ‘I must pass word to my extensive PR staff. They’ll be most pleased. And, I must return the compliment. Brooke is a quick study and readily grasps most of my lessons before anyone else in class comes to.’
‘That’s music to my ears, Professor.’
‘Please, Dana will do. We don’t stand on much formality here at Bowdoin. Small school and we all know one another.’
‘In that case, please call me Reeve. Everyone else does except Brooke. Even my husband calls me Reeve. We won’t detain you as I’m sure it’s a busy time getting the school up and running. Any chance we could have a coffee or something later?’
‘That would be very nice, Reeve. I should be over my duties about 5 if you’ll still be in town.’
‘I’ll stay. I have private transportation and can leave whenever I choose. Where shall we meet?’
‘My favorite is ‘Grounds for Divorce’, a hole-on-the-wall coffee shop just off the main street. Just ask anyone you encounter on the street and they’ll direct you. Shall we say 5:30?’
‘I’m looking forward to it. Now, Brooke, let’s get your stuff to your room.’
When they met and had steaming mugs of tea on the table between them, Dana asked, ‘Was there something specific you wanted to discuss, Reeve?’
‘Oh, nothing beyond what every loving – or, shall I say ‘hovering’? – parent wants to know. Is Brooke doing well? Does she seem to have friends? Have I anything to worry about?’
‘How refreshingly candid. Many parents beat around the bush. My equally candid response is that what little exposure I have had to your daughter shows her to be bright, sunny, ‘with it’ and, from what I can tell, happy. But, I only see her in class and occasional sightings around campus. I’ll ask her dorm monitor, if you wish.’
‘I know I should say, oh, please don’t bother but it really would put me at ease to know that she’s happy here. Any discrete inquiries would be appreciated. Here’s my card with an e-mail address. Just give an anxious late-in-life parent some peace of mind if it would not be too much of an imposition.’
‘Glad to. Now, if you would, tell me about yourself and Brooke’s home life.’
‘Fair enough. I’ve been, and am still, a driven career woman and didn’t make time for parenthood until I was almost 40. Ergo, my parental insecurities. I’m married to a wonderful man, an artist. Perhaps you may have heard of him, Pasqual Carter. He paints and sculpts and does crazy assemblages.’
‘I most certainly have heard of him. We had a show here – was it last year? – of some of his work. It caused quite a positive stir. And, what career is driving you?’
‘I manage money. Very discrete as it is major money for shy billionaires and endowments. We work very hard to keep out of the public eye.’
‘Are you in New York?’
‘No, actually. A decade ago we retreated to a private compound in Vermont so you might say I work from home.’
‘Sounds idyllic. My husband and I have a home in the woods not far from here. He’s a corporate trouble shooter and travels to serve his clients. Does your work require travel?’
‘It used to. We have our own plane but I’ve tired of the travel and tend to stay home more and more. With today’s electronic communications, it is less and less necessary. Besides, many of my clients prefer to come to me. They say it is less harried to converse at my place.’
‘Billionaires coming to visit. Hmmm. I’ll hazard a guess that your place is not too shabby.’
Reeve gave a laugh. ‘I like the way you deal, Dana. We could be friends, you and I. And, what of you? Do you travel much?’
‘Yes, my research seems to have me out and about a lot. Josh and I just returned from an unexpectedly pleasant visit to St. Petersburg, Florida.’
‘I know exactly what you mean, ‘unexpectedly pleasant’. I have clients there and in Sarasota that take me – o
r used to take me -- there on visits. Nice, quiet, low-key life style. No pretention. In fact, I’m overdue to visit one of my oldest and best clients. Not a billionaire but a good, solid, long-term customer. Interesting lady.’
‘How so?’
‘She’s a polymath. Smart lady, multi-talented.’
‘What talents?’
‘She’s a wizard business woman. Almost as good at investing as I but prefers to have me handle her money so she can pursue other interests like geriatric philanthropy – she has lots of real estate and a retirement home, of all things. She also is of professional quality in theatrical production, although I don’t know if she still pursues that.’
‘Tell me more about her theatrical production interests.’
‘Well, I don’t know if she’s still involved but when we were both younger and living in Palm Beach, she got involved with some very talented people and ended up the producer and production manager of a little theater there that put on some stunningly polished shows. It was way above the level of polish you would expect from amateur theater and, according to those who know, it was all due to her detail and control. But, that was years ago. I intend to connect with her soon and will ask. Anyway, it was generous to take the time with me. I hope we’ll find opportunity to interact more whether regarding my baby, Brooke, or otherwise.’