Case 32 - Just Out Of Reach, Part 3


    The airport was always crowded and noisy.  That was, after all, the point in this case - to find somewhere crowded and noisy, where everyone who entered became anonymous unless they made an effort to stand out.

    Keiko made no such effort to stand out.  She did exactly as Sean’s boss asked her to, and aimed herself straight for a luggage store, with the bank as her next stop.  It was fortunate that particular airport was designed with some of the shopping and bank facilities before the security checkpoint, or she might have a problem getting in at all - she brought no luggage and no airplane ticket.

    She picked the most plain black leather suitcase she could, a model common to just about every business traveller in the airport.  Then she walked two spaces down to the bank, and asked for the manager.  Once she told him what she needed, he opted to continue the conversation in private.

    The manager stepped aside to let Keiko into his glass tiny office, and he shut the door.  “You need how much in cash?”

    Ã¢â‚¬Å“Two hundred and fifty thousand,”  she repeated.

    Ã¢â‚¬Å“You know that amounts over ten thousand have to be reported to the government,”  he mentioned.

    Keiko glanced over at his desk, his name said Samuel Crush, Bank Manager.  “I don’t really care.  I have a terrible relationship with a business partner, and I want to buy him out so he’ll go away forever.”

    Ã¢â‚¬Å“Oh.”  Sam replied more softly.  “I’m sorry to hear that.”

    He then pulled a slip of paper from his desk and started writing on it.  Then he switched back and forth from his computer to the piece of paper.  Finally, he slid the paper across the desk.  “Sign this, please, and then I’ll take you to the vault.”

    Ã¢â‚¬Å“The vault?”

    He nodded.  “We don’t like to distribute large amounts of cash in view of the customers.  Someone might decide to follow you out and--”

    Ã¢â‚¬Å“I get the picture,”  she interrupted him.  She leaned over the desk and signed the paper.

    Ã¢â‚¬Å“Follow me, please.”

    The vault wasn’t much like pictured in movies.  It was unbearably tiny, and filled with small metal safe deposit boxes.  Rather than a spacious table in the center, there was barely a ledge to work on around the room, just below the center of the boxes.

    At the back of the room was a gap in the ledge, and one single box that was about four rows high of the usual ones.  It had a keypad attached to it.  That’s what the bank manager opened to obtain the cash.

    Ã¢â‚¬Å“I suppose you want it stacked in the briefcase?”  he asked.

    Ã¢â‚¬Å“Yes,”  she confirmed, and then she opened the case and handed it to him.

    Ã¢â‚¬Å“I need to feed the bundles through the counter first,”  he said, motioning to a small white wedge-shaped machine with an LED display.    “It’s procedure.  Every dollar that comes out of here has to be counted.”

    Ã¢â‚¬Å“No problem,”  Keiko agreed.

    The counting machine made a very quick paper leafing sound as it counted, and then it would beep at the end of each bundle, demanding that the bank manager feed it more cash.  He was feeding in bundles of one hundred dollar bills, a thousand of them at a time.  It took him a moment to fumble with the white paper collar that kept them together before feeding them in.  As each bundle left the machine, he wrestled it back into the paper collar and then placed it in the briefcase.

    Finally, all of the necessary bundles of cash were placed in the briefcase.  The bank manager closed it, scrambled the combination lock, and placed it on the ledge.  Then he reached into his jacket pocket and produced another piece of paper.

    Ã¢â‚¬Å“Sign this to show you received the cash,”  he said.

    Once Keiko signed it, he handed the briefcase over to her.  Then he  called over the bank’s security officer to escort her to the door, and hold it open for her.

    Keiko was now in the open airport again.  She looked up to find the sign that said ‘Baggage Claim’.  She wanted to get this over with as quickly as possible.  A short trip down the escalator, and she could see one circular conveyor belt after the other with bags going around them.  And just as the police Chief told her, there was only one set of bathrooms.

    As instructed, she walked into the men’s restroom, ignoring the confused look she got from a man who was leaving.  The restroom looked empty just then, except for one stall that was closed.  She knocked on the door once.

    The door opened, and the police Chief was standing behind it.  She put the suitcase down in the floor and pushed it with her foot, sliding it into the stall.  Then she turned and left quickly.  Foremost in her mind, as she left quickly, was that he had the money and he still could change his mind.  She had to disappear, and fast.

    Fortunately, she planned for this.  She parked her motorcycle at one of the long term parking lots, and took a shuttle to the terminal.  The plan was to exit quickly, board one of the shuttles back to the lot, and vanish.

    It’s a weird sensation, she thought, when your heart is racing, and you fear the worst case scenario...and then nothing happens.  There was nobody in the airport watching her, or following her outside.  The shuttle only had two tired looking souls who clung to their airplane bags.  And her motorcycle was exactly where she left it, unmolested and unwatched.

    She boarded the bike and drove away slowly, politely paying the minimum fee for one hour at the lot as she exited.  The silence and calm was relieving.  That nobody was chasing her was liberating.

    Nevertheless, she lived her life in paranoia and fear for too long to let her guard down.  She continued watching carefully, at every opportunity she could, until she arrived back at her condo.  Even if she were free, she would have to stay there for a little bit longer until her house was repaired after the SWAT raid.

    As Keiko drove into her reserved parking space, she was more than a little surprised when she found Sean waiting outside her door.  She took off her helmet and approached him.

    Ã¢â‚¬Å“There are only two women in the world who have said ‘no’ to me.”  he told her.  “And only one I know could probably kill me.”

    Keiko smirked at him, and then she carried the helmet into her condo.  She placed it on a shelf inside the closet just inside the door.

    Ã¢â‚¬Å“You’re in a good mood,”  Sean observed.  “What happened?”

    Ã¢â‚¬Å“I’m in an amazing mood,”  she corrected.  “It cost me a bit, but I’m free.”

    Ã¢â‚¬Å“What do you mean?”

    Now that she had both hands free, she turned around and hugged him.  “Your boss wanted two hundred and fifty thousand to stop chasing me.”

    Ã¢â‚¬Å“And you paid it?”  Sean asked.

    She nodded.  “Sometimes the greatest battle is the one never fought.”

    Ã¢â‚¬Å“What if he changes his mind and wants more?”  Sean asked.  “Or asks for more later on?”

    Keiko looked up, and her smile disappeared.  “If that happens, I’m afraid he’ll have to disappear.”

    Ã¢â‚¬Å“Disappear?  As in...?”

    She nodded, and frowned.  “Since you’re a police detective, I’d handle it in such a way that you don’t have to handle any extra work or unpleasant side effects.”

    Ã¢â‚¬Å“But now that I know about it--”  he began.

    Keiko pressed her index finger against his lips to stop him from talking.  “You would know, but you wouldn’t know.  I’m not his only enemy.  He said he had a bit of a gambling problem.  You know how many enemies that can create?”

    Sean nodded.  “Lots.  I see what you’re getting at.  But you’d still be right at the top of the suspect list.”

    Ã¢â‚¬Å“I’d also be with you when it happens,”  she said.

    Ã¢â‚¬Å“For real?  Or you would want me to lie?”

    Ã¢â‚¬Å“For real.”  She nodded.

    Sean shook his head slowly.  “It still makes me very nervous.  So many people who have claimed to be able to get away with this stuff fail and end up on death row.”

    Keiko stood on her toes, and leaned closer to him so she was right up against him.  “How about if we sleep together right now?  Will you be less nervous then?”

    Ã¢â‚¬Å“You’d manipulate me like that?”  he asked.

    Ã¢â‚¬Å“Maybe a little.”  she replied.  “Does that bother you?”

    Sean reached down and quickly lifted her off her feet.  “Not really,”  he said.  “I guess it’s fair, in the grander scheme of things.”


TO BE CONTINUED?
    


-- Story written and copyrighted (C) 2011 by Jason Froikin, and may not be 
--    reprinted without permission.  
-- World Class and all characters therein are property of 
--    Strike Two and Jason Froikin.

A tense monetary exchange.  No way can things be quite that simple though...  I think, someday, this comes back and things get nasty.