Outsourced (15 page)

The one part of the job Resnick couldn’t deal with was breaking the news of a child’s death to the parents. At some subconscious level that was a good part of the reason he took off to find Petrenko, and probably also why it took him as long as it did to find Petrenko at that restaurant. Resnick knew if he had been back at the station Hadley would’ve roped him into notifying the dead girl’s parents.

“Must’ve been rough,” Resnick said.

“Yeah, it was, but I guess it’s part of the job, huh? Anyway, while you were off having your fun, I’ve had my nose to the grindstone. And guess what? There’s a surveillance camera covering the cabinet that alarm system is locked away in. I’ve gone through the tapes. No one opened the cabinet from midnight last night until after the bank robbery.”

“The security system could’ve been turned off days ago.”

“Maybe, but watch this.”

Maguire ejected the tape that was in the machine and plugged in one that he had separated from the others. Checking his notebook, he fast-forwarded to a tape position that he had written down, and then hit the play button. The tape showed the bank manager, Craig Brown, running to the cabinet, duct tape still attached to his wrists. He looked out of breath as he stood fumbling with his keys, a thin sheen of sweat covering his neck and forehead. After he opened the cabinet, he froze for a long ten count as he stared into it, a look of puzzlement breaking out on his face.

“Did you see that?” Maguire asked. “At no point does he touch anything in that cabinet. He didn’t turn on the security system because it was already on. Which means it was on during the robbery.”

“Why didn’t it work then?”

“Maybe nobody pushed any of the alarm buttons.”

“Brown claims he did,” Resnick said.

“I called Tom. Supposedly three other tellers swore they did also. Maybe they’re all lying.”

“Four people on the inside involved?” A dull throbbing had started in the front of Resnick’s skull. He squeezed his eyes shut trying to block out the pain. “That’s too many people. It wouldn’t work. One of them would screw up their story. The alarm system was probably hacked into. Ah shit, this is going to get complicated.”

“We’ll see. I called Tom and asked if he could have all the alarm buttons dusted for prints.”

Resnick didn’t see the point in that, especially since tellers were probably always touching the buttons, if for no other reason than to make sure they knew where they were. He didn’t bother to mention that to Maguire; he was just glad to see his partner taking more of an initiative.

The throbbing in his head had become more of a dull pounding. He always carried a bottle of aspirin with him, and he popped a couple of tablets into his mouth and chewed them slowly. He wished it had been as simple as the alarm system being turned off. The thought of having to worry about how the system had been hacked into made the pain in his head worse.

“Have you watched the robbery yet?” Resnick asked.

“Yeah, let me show it to you.”

Maguire plugged in a second tape that he had separated from the stack and positioned the tape to where the robbers were about to appear. The surveillance camera was angled to capture most of the bank lobby, but not the lobby door. Resnick watched as men poured into the bank lobby, two of them carrying assault rifles, another brandishing a handgun. He reached over and paused the tape.

“I count five men,” Resnick said.

“That’s all I counted also.”

“Do you think any others could’ve slipped by without the camera picking them up?”

“I dunno. Maybe.”

Of the five men, four of them were dressed in red overalls and ski masks. A fifth man was wearing a yellow running suit. He also had on a ski mask, but it didn’t match the others.

“They must’ve planned the robbery for four guys and added a fifth at the last minute,” Resnick said.

“Look at the firepower those guys had,” Maguire said. “Two assault rifles and that big guy with the long hair is waving a forty-five. If you ask me, that’s overkill for a bank robbery. You’re going to make a lot of noise firing off those weapons.”

“You’re going to make a lot of noise firing off any gun. They probably wanted to scare the hell out of whoever was in there and get control fast.”

Maguire thought about it. “Maybe,” he conceded. “By the way, that big guy waving the gun is the one who ends up shooting those two women. He’s probably also going to turn out to be the one who shot the Grateful Dead guy in the parking lot.”

Maguire hit the play button and watched as the tape showed three of the robbers rounding up the bank employees and customers, forcing them on to their stomachs, then taping their wrists and ankles. The two other robbers had duffel bags slung over their shoulders. Maguire pointed them out as they started sprinting towards the hallway leading to the safety deposit boxes.

“Unfortunately, there’s no camera where the safety deposit boxes are kept,” Maguire said. “According to Brown, they would be violating the privacy of their box owners if they videotaped what was being put in them.”

Resnick nodded, realizing the bank manager was right.

“Nothing much happens until the shootings,” Maguire continued. “Let me fast-forward until we get there.”

As the tape sped along, Resnick thought he saw something. He stopped the tape, rewound it and played it back. At one point, the guy in the running suit kneeled by Margaret Williams to check the duct tape wrapped around her wrists. Resnick paused the tape at that point and played it at slow speed. The guy in the running suit had his back to the camera, and while that mostly obscured what happened, you could see for a second him slipping both hands under the young woman’s skirt.

“That little fat fuck,” Maguire swore. “He’s molesting her.”

After that Resnick played the tape at regular speed. At one point the guy who had been waving the forty-five around wandered over to Margaret Williams.

“This is where it happens,” Maguire said.

The man started saying something to Williams. His attitude looked casual, relaxed. After several minutes of that she turned her head, straining to look back at him. Her face was livid, veins streaking her neck as she yelled something to him. At first the robber started glancing from side to side, looking like he just wanted to run away. Then, almost as if a switch had been flipped, his body stiffened and he grabbed her with both hands and flipped her on to her back. Within a blink of an eye, he had his gun arm extended, then a flame exploded from the gun barrel. Margaret Williams’ body bounced on impact. When it settled down her head rested to one side.

Hard lines tightened along Resnick’s jaw as he watched the shooting. He stopped the tape and rewound it. Maguire groaned. “I don’t think I can watch that again,” he said.

“I want to show you something,” Resnick said. “The guy in the running suit – take a look at the way he’s acting while she’s yelling at the shooter. His shoulders are bouncing up and down. He’s laughing, he’s enjoying what’s happening. Now look at the third guy. He’s clearly agitated. As the shooter extends his gun, this guy starts to lift his rifle as if he’s going to shoot him instead. There’s definitely chaos going on at that point.”

Resnick replayed the tape, pointing out his observations to Maguire.

“Okay,” Maguire said. “So we’ve got a couple of psychos involved. How’s that going to help us?”

Resnick stopped the tape. The hard lines along his jaws stretched tighter while he stared at the monitor. “In some ways this seems like a professional job – the way they shut down the alarm system, the precision in drilling open the safety deposit boxes – but I can’t believe those three guys are anything but amateurs.”

“They could just be wack jobs,” Maguire offered. “Are you ready to see the other shooting?”

Resnick nodded grimly. The tape was started again. Mary O’Donnell had been lying next to Williams. After Williams was shot, O’Donnell started screaming. She turned her head back, trying to face the shooter. For a long moment the man stood frozen, then he started yelling back at her. He pushed her on to her back with his foot and without hesitation shot her in the stomach. While she lay writhing on the floor, he seemed to be talking to her. Resnick noticed that the guy in the running suit had stopped laughing. The third guy’s body language indicated that he had given up trying to control the situation.

Resnick watched the rest of the tape, watched as the two other men ran back into the bank lobby, both carrying duffel bags. He watched as four of the men fled the bank. The shooter stayed behind. Almost as if he were in a trance, he stood over O’Donnell, his gun arm fully extended. Then, realizing he was alone, he lumbered out of the bank.

Maguire let out a tired sigh. “Watching this crap is wiping me out. I need to take a break and get something to eat. You want anything?”

Resnick shook his head. “Which of these haven’t you looked at yet?”

Maguire went through the stack and pulled out six tapes. “These are all from outdoor surveillance cameras.” He got out of the chair, stretched and pushed a hand against the side of his head, cracking his neck. “I’ll be back in a half hour.”

Resnick took his place and fast-forwarded through four of the tapes without seeing anything useful. The fifth tape showed the five men running towards the bank, all with their ski masks and overalls already on. He fast-forwarded to the point where they were fleeing the bank. One of them stopped, took off his mask and looked back before running out of the view of the camera. Resnick rewound the tape and froze the picture at the place where the man’s profile could be seen clearly. For a long moment all Resnick could do was stare at the screen, his heart beating a mile a minute. Then he just let out a long whistle.

Joel had dumped out the contents of the duffel bags on to the floor and was now counting the money for a second time. The first time he had counted four hundred and three packets of bills, each packet held together by two rubber bands. They all seemed to be of the same thickness. Picking a dozen of them at random, he counted fifty hundred-dollar bills in each. Thumbing through them he saw nothing but hundreds. That meant he had over two million dollars. He finished his second count and came up with the same number.

Outside of the money they had also taken photographs, documents, videotapes and computer disks from Petrenko. He separated those items out and packed them away in a box. At first he thought about sending the box anonymously to the police. While he liked the idea of fucking that commie asshole one more time, he decided it would be safer to just destroy the items. For all he knew the FBI would be able to trace that package back to him no matter how careful he was in sending it. Better not to be a schmuck. Just keep the money and be satisfied. Anyway, it was no skin off his nose whether or not Petrenko ended up in prison.

The robbery also netted six silk pouches and he had their contents spread out on the kitchen table. Diamonds. Ninety of them. He picked one of them up. The diamond felt substantial, heavy, and it sparkled like crazy as he held it to the light. Squinting at the stone, it looked flawless to him, but what the hell did he know? He had an uncle who worked in the diamond district in New York. In a few days he’d visit him, find out what they were worth.

One day he’s down to his last few thousand bucks, the next he’s sitting on over two million large. When Dan had first told him about the robbery, he thought he’d be lucky to clear fifty grand from the job. He had to hand it to the guy, Dan knew what he was talking about. Outside of Gordon going nutso in that bank, things worked out exactly as planned. He felt a tinge of regret about the way he had cut Dan off, but he had warned him about bringing Gordon along, told him a number of times he’d hold him responsible if that nutjob acted up and, if nothing else, Joel considered himself a man of his word. Being cut off was the price Dan had to pay, and besides, he’d had plenty of warnings.

As far as Gordon went, Joel had no regrets whatsoever – except that he hadn’t taken care of that nutjob before they ever entered the bank. Thinking how Gordon shot those two women while they were both bound and defenseless made his blood boil. May he rot in hell! Given the opportunity, he’d shoot him again, and be glad to do it.

He had no regrets about Eric either. The prick was going to have the audacity to go back on the deal they had and try to hold him up for fifty percent of the take? When he was brought in, it was for a twenty percent cut, and he damn well knew it! Just because things might’ve changed with the others didn’t affect what Eric was entitled to. Besides, molesting that girl inside the bank probably triggered the episode with Gordon. He deserved what he got as much as Gordon did. And realizing how Eric had lied to him over the years about how he had ended up in jail gave Joel the creeps. They might’ve known each other for fifteen years, but so what? What did they really have in common? Politics, guns, drinking beer? Eh, good riddance.

Joel gathered the diamonds back into the silk pouches and stacked the money into one of the duffel bags. The diamonds had to be worth at least half a million. With two and a half million dollars, he was going to be able to do whatever he wanted. While there were certain things about his house he would miss – the privacy, twenty acres of woods, having a shooting range in his basement – maybe it was time to move. Maybe he should just go to Florida and get the hell out of where he was. He didn’t have to rush into a decision, though. He’d have some time to think about it. For now, he’d spend a little money, fortify the house a bit, do some of the improvements he’d been wanting to do for years.