As he pulled into the deserted parking lot, Corbin saw Beckett pacing in the dark by the dumpster. Beckett wore his navy-blue suit pants and a white shirt. He kept beating his palms together. When the car stopped, Beckett flung the passenger door open.
“We have a problem! We can’t use this information!” Beckett screeched.
Corbin squinted at Beckett. “Why not?”
“We work with these people! I can’t believe I didn’t see this before. All it’ll take is for one of them to spot us on a security video and we’re done!”
Corbin let out a hissing sound through his gritted teeth. “Joe Nobody will be the only person who ever appears on video because you aren’t going inside. No one knows Nobody, so no one can identify him from a videotape. And let me remind you, there won’t be any videotape by the time they finally figure out something happened, if they figure out something happened and if anyone cares enough to investigate.”
Beckett bit his lip and climbed into the car. “Oh man, I feel like an idiot.”
Corbin didn’t respond.
As they drove in silence to the train station, Beckett kept looking over his shoulder at the duffel bag in the backseat. His mouth was dry. When they neared the station, Beckett pulled the duffel bag onto his lap. It was heavier than he’d expected. Before them stood Union Station, with the fifty state flags displayed proudly along the semi-circular road that ran past the station. Behind them to the right stood the Capital Building, just beyond a stand of trees.
Corbin nodded toward the crosswalk at Massachusetts Avenue. “I’m gonna let you out at the corner. Don’t forget to give me your wallet.”
Beckett stepped out of the car and handed his wallet and keys to Corbin. He looked at Union Station, his gateway to Philadelphia and destinations unknown. “What have you gotten me into?”
“A brighter future,” Corbin said without hesitation.
Without another word, Beckett disappeared into the early-morning crowd.
Corbin tossed his suit jacket onto the spare chair. Beckett’s navy-blue polyester suit jacket already hung from the coat rack. Corbin added a hot cup of coffee to Beckett’s desk and entered Beckett’s password, causing Beckett’s computer to dutifully report Beckett’s presence to Kak’s computer. Corbin took his own seat and began his day. He felt great.
The recently-renovated Baltimore station rolled into view outside the train’s window. The platform was busy, even though the morning rush hour had yet to begin. Several travelers boarded Beckett’s car, but none fit the description of Joe Nobody. Beckett stood up to get a better look around the car. He tapped the back of his seat and scowled. He heard the door chimes ring.
“If that son of a bitch doesn’t show up,” he said to himself.
As Beckett spoke, an Hispanic-looking man entered the rear of the car. The man wore a light-blue, button-down shirt and gray slacks, with headphones wrapped around his neck and thick glasses stuffed into his shirt pocket. Sure enough, the man sat down opposite Beckett.
“You’re Joe.”
“You’re Jeff.” Alvarez checked his watch. “You have the bag?”
“Of course,” Beckett said, patting the duffel bag on the seat next to him. “You’re late.”
“How am I late? It’s a train. If I was late, I wouldn’t be sitting here, would I?” Alvarez pulled his headphones to his ears and fiddled with the volume control.
“Are you going to do that the whole way?”
Alvarez pulled off the headphones. “Do what?”
“Never mind,” Beckett replied, not bothering to hide his annoyance. He waited for Alvarez to replace the headphones before speaking again.
Alvarez removed the headphones again. “What did you say?”
“I said to make sure you’re awake when we get to Philly.”
Alvarez went to replace the headphones again.
“I didn’t know you wear glasses,” Beckett said, nodding toward the glasses in Alvarez’s shirt pocket.
“I don’t. I borrowed these.”
“Can you see through them?”
“Not well.” Alvarez returned the headphones to his ears. The next time Beckett spoke, he didn’t remove the headphones.
Molly stood in Corbin’s door watching him type. Despite the warm day they were expecting, she had abandoned her recent near-miniskirts for a tight, black, silk skirt with a red rose print, that fell to the lower end of her calves. The skirt was so snug it visibly restricted her movements. The combination of the tight skirt and her higher-than-normal high heels made her appear precariously balanced. A wide black belt rested just above her hips and three silver bracelets stood out prominently below the short sleeves of her dark-red blouse. Her lips, her fingernails, and her toenails visible through her open-toed shoes and tan stockings, all matched the dark red of her blouse.
Corbin didn’t look up, but he did acknowledge her presence. “Molly.”
“Corbin,” Molly echoed his tone.
“How are you today?”
“Ceteras paribas, ceteras paribas.” Molly made her way to Beckett’s chair. She spun the chair to face Corbin and sat down, crossing her legs with no apparent difficulty.
“Ceteras paribas?” Corbin asked, without stopping his typing.
“It means same shit, different day.”
“Doesn’t it mean, all else remains unchanged?”
“That’s what I said.” Molly picked up Beckett’s coffee cup. Corbin drunk half the contents ten minutes prior. “Where’s your diminutive friend?”
“What is this, big word Tuesday?”
“I’m feeling loquacious.” Molly smiled.
“Clearly. I have no idea where he went. He’s in high demand today, with this being his last day and all.” Corbin looked up from his keyboard. He looked Molly up and down. “What are you dressed up for?”
Molly rolled her eyes. “Do I need a reason to look nice?”
Corbin shook his head.
“Have you met the F-N-G yet?” she asked.
“‘F-N-G’?”
“Fucking new guy.”
“Ah, no, I haven’t had the pleasure.”
“It’s no pleasure, I assure you.”
“I take it you’ve met him?”
“Yes, I have,” Molly said, as she swirled Beckett’s coffee in her hand. “They sent us a dud. . a real dud. . weapons grade boring. His last name should be Bland, Mr. Bland.” Suddenly, Corbin realized the reason Molly was dressed up.
“Wonderful. At least he won’t interfere with nap time.”
“Oh, I wouldn’t sleep around this guy.”
“Why not?”
“He’s got desk rage written all over him.”
“I thought you said he was Mr. Bland?”
“He is, but those are the ones you need to watch. They’re always ready to blow. A little too much caffeine and bam!” Molly slapped her hands together. “Mr. Bland goes postal! If I were you, I wouldn’t turn my back on him for a minute.” Molly rose. “Tell your friend I’m looking for him.”
The train raced through the Marylandcountryside. Alvarez stared out the window, listening to his music. Beckett twiddled his thumbs. He was bored and anxious.
“What are you listening to?”
Alvarez pulled the headphones from his ears. “What?”
“You’re listening to ABBA, aren’t you?” Beckett asked accusingly.
“No,” Alvarez responded defensively.
“I know ABBA when I hear it. That’s ABBA.”
“It’s not ABBA.”
“Yes, it is.”
“It’s not,” Alvarez almost growled, “and you can stop saying that now.”
“Why? Does it bother you?”
“What’s your problem?”
“No problem.” Beckett scratched his chin. “How long have you known Corbin?”
“We’re not supposed to talk about that.”
“I’m just trying to pass the time.”
Alvarez glared at him.
Beckett rose. “I’m going to the can. You stay here and watch the bag and listen to your ABBA.” As Beckett walked away, he began loudly humming “Dancing Queen.”
Alvarez bit his tongue.
Corbin slipped silently into the hearing room. Despite its name, the “hearing room” was nothing more than a large empty room with two dozen chairs and three desks arranged in an “L” shape at the front of the room. Five people sat in the audience. The court reporter gathered their names. Corbin positioned himself at the clerk’s desk. In ten minutes, the hearing would begin and the federal government would provide him with the perfect alibi.
Alvarez watched the clerkreach under the counter for the promised paperwork. Sweat beaded on his forehead. His mouth was dry. The fake glasses made him dizzy. Behind Alvarez, a wall of silver mailboxes stretched the length of the store. Another wall of silver mailboxes ran the width.
“I’m a grad student at Penn,” Alvarez offered.
The clerk shuffled some forms, but didn’t look up from behind her counter.
“Our mail keeps getting stolen,” Alvarez added.
“Uh, huh,” the clerk replied indifferently.
“That’s why I want the mailbox.”
The clerk surfaced from behind the counter with two forms. “Fill in your personal information on the top form and sign the rental agreement.” She pulled a pen from a nearby coffee cup.
“I have my own.” Corbin had instructed Alvarez to use his own pen to avoid leaving any physical evidence behind. As Alvarez filled out the forms, he couldn’t stop himself from rambling. “My roommates need to use the box as well.” Alvarez wiped the sweat from his forehead with his hand.
“Just put their names on the first form.”
“Their mail gets stolen too.” Alvarez grunted at his failure to stop talking.
“Fine, whatever, just put their names on the first form. I also need $120 for the box.”
Alvarez tossed six twenty dollar bills onto the counter.
“‘You want how much?’ See, and I said it like I thought it was too much,” explained Felix Templeton, the third person to visit the office in the last fifteen minutes. So far, none of them voiced any suspicions regarding Beckett’s absence. “He looked at me and said, ‘I’ll see if I can find a better rate.’ And he did. He gave me a reduced rate! Sometimes you just have to stand firm.”
Corbin faked a smile and tried to look interested in Templeton’s hotel-booking story.
“Of course, I don’t know why we can’t get a federal rate. You’d think that would make sense with the number of federal employees who travel.”
“You would think so,” Corbin agreed.
“I guess I shouldn’t take up any more of your time. I just came by to wish Evan the best, but I guess he’s busy out processing.”
“He is in high demand.”
“Did he say where he was going?”
“No sir, just ‘out processing.’ He showed up, started something, the phone rang and he left. That was about ten minutes ago.”
“Ok. Tell him I stopped by.”
“I will.”
The old man left and closed the door behind him.
Corbin typed out a quick e-mail from Beckett’s computer before re-opening the door. “Open door means nothing to hide,” he told himself.
Alvarez emerged from the mailbox store and crossed the street to where Beckett waited. Beckett looked out of place standing around holding the duffel bag, but not enough to draw attention.
“How did it go?” Beckett asked.
“Fine.”
“Did they give you any trouble?”
“No, the clerk didn’t really care.”
“What did they say about the ID?”
“She never asked for it. I could have written Mickey Mouse on the form for all she cared. Just like Corbin said.”
“Corbin’s a good criminal, you’ve got to give him that.” Beckett took the wallet and the paperwork from Alvarez and placed them in their rightful place in the duffel bag. “Still, don’t get cocky. This one may have been easy, but don’t expect the banks to be easy. That’s where the real danger lies.”
Alvarez shot Beckett a dirty look. “Do you mind!”
“I’m just saying. Don’t get complacent.”
“I won’t. But listen, you can’t just stand there like you’re waiting for me. The clerk could see you out the window.”
“I thought you said she didn’t care?”
“She didn’t, but I don’t know what the next clerk is gonna think.”
“What do you want me to do?”
“Walk out of sight or something. Don’t look like you’re waiting for me.”
“Fine.” Beckett reached into the duffel bag. “Here’s the next packet.”
“What packet?” Corbin asked. Like everyone else in the office, he learned a long time ago never to trust Kak’s secretary Patricia. She did a lot of Kak’s dirty work. Thus, he viewed each of her requests with suspicion.
“His out-processing packet. I need a copy for our files.”
Corbin squinted at her. “Personnel keeps those. They don’t stay in this office.”
“We keep a copy here,” she responded without further explanation.
“Why not ask personnel to send you a copy if you need it?”
“It’s too hard to get these back from personnel once they get their hands on them.” Patricia’s already-unpleasant tone hardened. “I don’t know why I need to explain this to you.”
Corbin half-shrugged his shoulders. “All right, I’ll tell him when I see him.”
“I’d rather you e-mailed me when he returns. Then I’ll come get the file and make the copy myself.”
“If you insist.”
“I do.” With that, she bolted from the office, slamming the door on the way out.
“Nasty, nasty, nasty. Hope you don’t mind spending the day just missing Mr. Evan Beckett.”
Alvarez sat at the assistant bank manager’s desk. She was about his age and completely oblivious to anything that didn’t interest her, and Alvarez didn’t interest her. She never once noticed him referring to his drivers license for basic information about himself or looking at his cell phone to figure out his own telephone number. “Maybe Corbin’s right? Maybe this isn’t so unusual,” Alvarez said to himself, as he signed the application form and slid it across the desk. Although he had already committed several criminal acts, to him, this was the moment the crime began. Thus, even though she seemed more focused on her e-mail than him, his hands were clammy and his heart raced.
“I’ll need your drivers license, Mr. Lamont,” she said, after skimming the form.
It took Alvarez a second to realize that he was ‘Mr. Lamont.’ He reached into his wallet and pulled out the fake license. The woman took the license and the social security card and walked off behind the tellers. So far, Corbin’s fake documents were passing the test. If Corbin made a mistake though, Alvarez could find himself in trouble fast. As the seconds passed, Alvarez became increasingly nervous. He began sweating. His heart pounded. He heard Corbin tell him: “Crooks take money out of banks, they don’t put money into banks.” But then, Corbin wasn’t here.
After what seemed an eternity, the young woman returned and handed him some paperwork and a set of starter checks. “Here you go, Mr. Lamont, we’ll send the printed checks to your address in five business days.”
“Great.”
“Is there anything else I can help you with today?”
“Nope, that’s it.”
“I hope you enjoy your banking experience with us.”
“Thank you, I’m sure I will.” Alvarez smiled at the woman and promptly made for the door. As he reached the door however, he heard the woman shout his name.
“Mr. Lamont, wait!”
Alvarez froze. Slowly, he turned.
“You forgot your drivers license.”
“He forgot his wallet?” Corbin chuckled.
“Yeah, and he was nervous, but that wasn’t the worst part,” Molly said, as she swiftly shook her leg back and forth despite her tight skirt. Her arms were folded tightly across her chest and her face glowed with a combination of glee and, perhaps, a hint of embarrassment. She smiled uncontrollably.
“I’m all atwitter.”
“Don’t be a smart ass. I have other places I can be besides here, telling you the sordid details of my love life.”
If there was one topic Molly could talk about endlessly, it was her love life. She happily replayed each date for anyone who wanted to listen and sometimes for those who didn’t. Despite his belief that Molly was crazy when it came to dating matters, Corbin nevertheless enjoyed her stories because they were usually well-told and almost always contained interesting twists, turns and surprises. He once described them to Beckett as “the Masterpiece Theater of dating insanity,” which Beckett shorted to “Dating Disasterpiece Theater.”
Corbin waved generally toward the door. “By all means, don’t let me keep you.”
“Do you want to hear this or not?”
“Not.” Corbin knew she would tell him no matter what he said, so he enjoyed tweaking her.
“I thought you would,” Molly said confidently.
“Wait a minute, I just said I didn’t.”
“You said ‘no,’ but you clearly meant ‘yes’.”
“I see. . my mistake. Please continue.”
Molly set her coffee down on Corbin’s desk after taking another sip and leaned a little further back in Beckett’s chair.
“So we’re at the restaurant and he tells me he forgot his wallet.”
“You already covered that part.”
“I’m just backing up in case you forgot. Soon we’re making small talk. He tells me about his job and where he went to school and all that-”
“What does he do?”
“Do you mind? That’s not the point. Suddenly, he tells me I’m beautiful.”
“Are you sure he didn’t say ‘gorgeous’?” Corbin laughed.
“I’ll thank you to drop the sarcasm.”
“He didn’t break into poetry did he?”
“Will you stop interrupting.”
Corbin acted property chastised.
“That’s when it all went wrong. The next words out of his mouth were, ‘I like your shoes.’ Can you believe that?” she said, wrinkling her nose. The question was rhetorical, and Corbin knew not to answer. “That was it. Fini, right there. There’s no way I’m dating ‘Shoe Guy.’”
“It didn’t come to blows right there in the restaurant, did it?” Corbin struggled to contain his smile.
Molly pursed her lips and held up her pointer finger toward Corbin. “Ya know. . this story is going to take a really long time if one of us doesn’t stop interrupting.”
Corbin again acknowledged his chastisement.
“To answer your question, no, it did not come to blows. But seriously, how can I date a guy who spends the whole night looking at my shoes. I mean, obviously he’s a freak.”
“Did you actually catch him staring or was it an off-the-cuff comment?”
“Does it matter?
“Maybe it was the only thing he could think of to compliment you on? Were you wearing a particularly ugly dress or something?” Despite his best efforts to say this sympathetically, the corner of Corbin’s mouth started to curl into a smile.
“If you’re not going to be serious, then there’s no point in talking to you.”
“Maybe you forgot to comb your hair?”
Molly rose and headed for the door. “Some of us have work to do.”
“Wait!” Corbin called out.
Molly stopped at the door. “What?”
“Nice shoes.”
Molly scrunched her nose and flipped Corbin off.
Beckett waited anxiously on a public bench near the bank. Alvarez had been in the bank a very long time. Beckett half expected to hear police sirens at any moment. When Alvarez finally emerged from the bank, Beckett was genuinely relieved to see him. Alvarez crossed the street and approached Beckett. He handed Beckett the bank documents and his wallet and sat down.
“How did it go?” Beckett asked.
“It went well.”
“You nervous?”
“Not so much. I was at first, but it went away once I got started. You?”
“Why would I be nervous? I’m just sitting here.” Beckett returned the wallet to the duffel bag before retrieving a new one. “If Corbin was here, he’d probably tell you ‘this is a moment you can tell your grandkids about, assuming they aren’t cops.’” Beckett opened the new wallet and read the name. “This time you’re Elmer Fudd.”
“Funny.” Alvarez looked at the wallet. “Jacob Primoventi.”
“Strange, you don’t look Italian.”
“Ha ha.”
“The next bank is behind me, two doors down,” Beckett said, pointing toward the bank. “I’ll wait here.”
“You do that,” Alvarez said with a hint of resentment. He and Beckett were not getting along well. They were, in fact, getting on each other’s nerves, primarily because Beckett kept reminding Alvarez of the danger he faced. This made Alvarez nervous.
“They really didn’t give you any grief at all?” Beckett asked.
“No, none. Quit asking.”
“This might really work,” Beckett said more to himself than Alvarez.
“Did you have any doubts?!”
“Of course I did! I thought they would slap the cuffs on you the minute you flashed that fake ID.”
“Thanks for the vote of confidence,” Alvarez growled.
“Calm down.”
“Don’t tell me to calm down!”
“You need to calm down.”
“You need to shut the hell up!”
“Don’t go there friend. . all I’m saying is stay calm.”
Alvarez didn’t respond.
Molly leaned against Beckett’s desk. . again. Corbin had lost track of the number of times she was in his office today. “So when you take the calories and do the math, rather than just relying on what they list, it turns out it’s bigger than it really is.”
Corbin shook his head. “You’re like the verbal equivalent of M.C. Escher.”
“I’ll take that as a compliment.”
“If you insist.”
“So what’s this I hear about T owning a gun?” Molly’s voice contained traces of disgust, but not concern.
“Where did you hear that?”
“Word travels. Doesn’t that strike you as wrong somehow.”
“I own a gun,” Corbin said without emotion.
“You? I thought you were a Democrat?”
“So?”
“Don’t you people hate guns?”
“Not all Democrats. . and what do you mean, ‘you people’? I thought you were a Democrat?”
“Non-voter,” Molly replied indifferently.
“Felon?”
“Apathetic.”
“I see.”
Molly folded her arms and squinted her eyes. “Wait a minute, isn’t it illegal to own a gun where you live?”
“Yes,” he answered.
“You don’t see a problem with that?”
“Those laws are meant to protect stupid people from themselves. If they didn’t try to discourage average people from owning guns, they’d all be blowing each other away. There’s no danger of that with me.”
Molly frowned. “You do know there are hundreds of millions of guns in this country. .”
“Right.”
“. . and people aren’t blowing each other away all over the place?”
“What are you, the NRA?”
“No, but I think it’s a little hypocritical.”
“Maybe, but I know me, and I know I’m not a danger to myself or to anyone else. I can’t say the same for the people I see on television every night. Those are the people these laws are designed to protect.”
“That’s really cynical,” Molly protested.
“Maybe. Speaking of cynical, shouldn’t you be doing something unproductive?”
“Yeah, but I’m waiting for Beckers. I keep missing him, so I’m gonna stay right here until he returns.”
“Knock yourself out, just don’t expect me to entertain you,” Corbin replied, trying to sound indifferent.
Beckett leaned against the big blue mailbox as he waited for Alvarez to cross the street. This was the third bank Alvarez completed this morning. They were ahead of schedule. Corbin’s system for keeping track of the identities was proving to be effective and simple. The relationship between Beckett and Alvarez was proving to be strained.
“You seem nervous,” Beckett said, as he stuffed the bank documents into the appropriate plastic bag.
“Shut up,” retorted the annoyed Alvarez.
“Calm down, I’m just making an observation.”
“Well, don’t. I don’t need you constantly telling me I look nervous.”
Beckett ignored him. “Here,” he said, handing Alvarez a new wallet. “This time you’re Kenneth Wilson. The bank is up the street, five doors. I’ll meet you two doors beyond that at the coffee shop. See the red sign?”
Alvarez slipped the wallet into his pocket and glanced up the street. “I see it.”
Beckett handed Alvarez a new cell phone.
Alvarez turned the phone over several times. “Wait a minute, this is wrong. This phone has the same color sticker as the last one.”
“What?!” Beckett seized the phone and examined it. He compared it to the prior phone and then the other phones in the bag. “I must have put the wrong dot on there. There were a couple extras in the bag in case we needed them.”
“What does that mean?!” Alvarez demanded accusingly.
“It means it has the wrong color dot, that’s all. It shouldn’t be a problem.”
“‘Shouldn’t’? What do I do if it is?!”
“Run, I guess,” Beckett responded, mocking Alvarez’s concerns.
“Fuck you!” Alvarez got right into Beckett’s face. “You had one fucking job, keeping this shit straight! Now you tell me you fucked that up?!”
“Step off, man! It just means the phone has the wrong dot, that’s all. Stop making a federal case out of it!”
“How do I know this whole thing isn’t messed up now?!”
“See this chart?” Beckett held up a playing-card-sized chart. On the chart, were a series of phone numbers, each with a colored dot located next to the number. “Every one of these dots can be accounted for except this second yellow. This brown should have been yellow. For some reason, it ended up with a brown sticker on the phone. All we have to do is replace the brown sticker with the yellow sticker and it’ll be like nothing ever happened.”
“It better be!”
Beckett placed a yellow sticker on the phone.
“If this blows up on me. .”
Molly got bored after a few minutes and left Corbin’s office without complaint. But no sooner had she left than Kak appeared. The mustard stain from yesterday could still be seen on his dingy white dress shirt, the only color he ever wore.
“Tell Beckett, I want to see him.”
“I will. He was by your office about five minutes ago, dropping off files.” In reality, Corbin dropped off Beckett’s files himself when he saw Kak’s secretary go downstairs for coffee. First, he sent her an e-mail from his own computer telling her Beckett was back. Then he dropped the files off at her desk. Finally, he sent an e-mail from Beckett’s computer telling her that he, Beckett, heard she was looking for him, that he came to see her, but that she was not there, and that he left her some files.
“He. . he’s a. . a good man,” Kak said unexpectedly.
“I’m sure,” Corbin agreed, though he doubted Kak’s sincerity.
“We’ll miss him.”
“Maybe he’ll get sick of his new job and come back to us,” Corbin suggested.
Kak seemed unsure whether Corbin was playing with him, so he ignored the comment. “Tell him to, uh, come see me.”
“Will do.”
Alvarez’s heart raced. Not only had Beckett screwed up the colored-dot system, casting doubt over all of the paperwork, but now a security guard decided, for reasons unknown, to stand right behind Alvarez as he filled out the account paperwork. Moreover, the account manager was far too talkative, and her words bore traces of suspicion.
“How do you like your apartment?”
“It’s ok.”
“A friend of mine lives down there. Are you near the Murphy building?”
Alvarez had never heard of the Murphy building. “Uh, I’m not sure, I don’t pay attention to building names.”
“What grocery store do you use? My friend had a hard time finding a grocery store in the neighborhood.”
“Uh, I eat on campus. I shop at the university store.” Alvarez began sweating, and he struggled to maintain eye contact with the woman.
“That’s really expensive.”
“I guess. I never thought about it.” Alvarez pulled out the mismarked cell phone and read the number off the sticker on the back. As he did, he snuck a peek over his shoulder at the security guard.
“Oh, what an interesting phone,” the woman said.
“Uh, yeah, they’re pretty nice.”
“Where did you buy it?”
“It was a gift.” Alvarez handed her the completed form.
She took the form and scanned it carefully. “Do you have a landline where we can reach you? At home?”
“No, I use my cell.” Alvarez fidgeted with his pen.
“What about an office number?”
“No, no desk.” A drop of sweat ran down his forehead. “It certainly is hot in here today, isn’t it?”
“Can I see your social security card again?”
“Why?!” Alvarez nearly yelped the word, before recovering his composure. “I’m sorry, here it is.” He handed her the card. “I’m running late for a lunch date.”
The woman nodded. “I’ll be right back.”
Alvarez watched the woman walk to a back office. Moments later, the security guard drifted in that direction as well. He soon followed her into the office. Alvarez’s mouth went dry. Sweat soaked through his shirt. His nerves were fraying. He shifted in the chair and looked toward the door. Suddenly, laughter erupted from the office. Alvarez froze. He looked at the exit again. His hands gripped the chair. More laughter. He squeezed the chair even harder and snuck another look at the exit, just as the woman emerged from the office. Beside her, the security guard emerged as well. Alvarez held his breath. The security guard looked at him, but turned and walked away, toward the back of the bank. Only the woman returned to the desk. Alvarez took a deep breath and let go of the chair.
“Here’s your paperwork.”
Alvarez took the documents.
“Thank you for banking with us.”
Corbin returned to the office to find Theresa sitting in his chair. He carried two coffee cups, one for himself and one for Beckett’s desk. “Theresa, what a pleasant surprise.” He set one cup down on Beckett’s desk and took the other to his own desk. As he approached, Theresa moved from his chair to her usual spot on the edge of his desk. She wore a new perfume. This one smelled sweeter than the one she normally wore, which always reminded Corbin of a flower shop.
Theresa’s eyes went to the coffee cup on Beckett’s desk. “Where’s Evan?”
“We were talking to Stuart when the front office grabbed him. Did you know Stuart’s TiVo is watching porn during the day and he’s getting stuck paying for it?”
“I don’t want to know.”
“Neither did we.” The conversation actually took place between Corbin and Stuart alone, but Corbin knew no one would verify any story involving Stuart and pornography, so he felt safe adding Beckett to the list of participants. “By the way, have you met the new guy yet? Molly met him earlier today.”
“Oh please, what a loser!” Theresa spat out.
Corbin furrowed his brow. “You know, it’s asinine that Kak introduces him to everyone except me. After all, I’m going to be the guy’s roommate.”
“That’s Kak for you. Speaking of losers, have you heard the latest about our little office whore?”
Corbin rolled his eyes.
“You didn’t get my e-mail?” she asked.
“I got it, but I’m not opening an e-mail titled ‘Our Office Whore.’ I’d rather that one not end up in the government archives.”
Without hesitation, Theresa launched into her tirade, mockingly imitating Molly’s voice. “I’m sorry, but I can’t believe her. ‘Oh, you like my shoes? How disgusting. Oh, you’re gross. What a weirdo. Want to go back to my place?’”
Corbin’s eyebrows shot upwards. “‘Back to my place’? I thought the date ended in disappointment?”
“I’m sure it did, but the goodbyes didn’t happen until after the evening’s less-clothed festivities concluded. At least, that’s what the grapevine says. I take it she left that part out of the version she told you?”
Just then, Molly appeared at the door. It was obvious she’d heard the entire conversation. Corbin’s face flushed with embarrassment.
“I thought I heard your roomie?” she said.
“Uh, no. He’s at the front office,” Corbin replied uncertainly.
“You know, I haven’t seen him all day?” Theresa interjected.
“He’s been busy. He should be along any second.”
“Uh huh,” Molly said, though her tone left no doubt she didn’t believe this. “Corbin, I’d like to see you for a moment, if you can break yourself away. It won’t take more than a few seconds. T, you can talk amongst yourselves while he’s gone.” Molly stepped back into the hallway.
Theresa snarled her lips. “How did your date end, Molly?!” she called out.
“It ended well. How did yours end?” Molly countered, as she walked off.
“What date?” Theresa said to herself. She hadn’t had a date in some time. Suddenly, the puzzled expression on her face twist into rage. Her forehead creased and deep wrinkles appeared under her eyes. Her teeth visibly clenched and her nose flared. She now got Molly’s point.
“You started it,” Corbin said without sympathy.
Theresa squinted at Corbin. “Can I tell you something?”
Corbin looked at Theresa suspiciously. “Ok.”
“You can’t ever tell her or you and I are finished, got it?”
Corbin agreed.
“I was a lot like her when I was younger. No guy was ever good enough, and I made it very difficult for. .,” she paused. “Well, that’s all I’ll say.” But she continued: “Let me tell you! There are a lot of women out there who would be grateful to get as many dates as she gets. She makes the rest of us look bad,” she grumbled before slipping off the end of the desk and heading for the hallway. “You know where to find me.”
Alvarez walked to the coffee shop where Beckett had set up shop. Alvarez looked harried, but Beckett looked quite comfortable sitting in a recliner near a small table. The duffel bag lay at his feet.
“You were supposed to wait for me outside the bank. I don’t like having to find you.”
“I told you I’d wait for you here. Besides, standing outside the bank looks suspicious. Did you get it done?”
“Of course I got it done.” Alvarez pulled the bank documents from his pocket and handed them to Beckett. “Have you figured out if any of the other documents are screwed up?”
“They’re fine. It’s just the one sticker.”
“You better be right.”
Beckett pulled another wallet and cell phone from the duffel bag. “The next bank is inside this building, out that door and down the hall.”
Alvarez pulled off his glasses and rubbed his eyes. “These things are killing my eyes. I don’t know how people go through life wearing them.”
“They make you look like Mr. Magoo.”
“I’m not wearing them for fashion.”
“That’s a relief. Whose are they?” All morning, Beckett kept asking questions like this, little questions which would give him more insight into Alvarez’s life than Alvarez wanted to share. Alvarez immediately became cross.
“Does it matter?! They’re not mine!”
“Calm down.”
“Fuck you.” He replaced the glasses. “After this, I’m taking a break for lunch.”
“Fine. I’ll meet you at McDonalds. It’s up the street, on the corner. You can’t miss it.”
A few minutes after Theresa left Corbin’s office, Molly reappeared at Corbin’s door. “She’s not very good at this, is she?” Molly asked with a laugh.
“I’m not taking sides. I do wish you two could get along though.”
“No chance of that. Here’s your mail by the way, that’s why I wanted to see you. Stuart gave it to me by mistake.” Molly handed Corbin several envelopes of varying shapes and sizes. She looked toward Beckett’s desk. “So where is your playmate really?”
“Am I my playmate’s keeper? What do you care anyway?”
“I don’t. Do I look like I care?” Molly made a show of nonchalantly flipping through a file she was holding.
“Then why did you ask?”
“Because I’m a nice person, and I’m trying to make you feel better about yourself by feigning interest in your life.” Her good mood had returned. “I’m that ray of sunshine that makes your life worth living.”
Corbin smiled despite himself. “But you’re not feigning interest in my life, you’re feigning interest in Beckett’s life!”
“Beggars can’t be choosers. Take what you can get, partner.”
Corbin laughed. Usually, he and Molly followed the unwritten rule that neither would laugh at the other’s verbal jabs, but this one struck Corbin as particularly funny. “All right, you win. Forget I mentioned it.”
“No need to forget, I wasn’t listening anyway.”
Alvarez pushed open the door to the McDonalds and headed straight for Beckett. Over his shoulder, he saw the police officer enter the McDonalds, the same officer who followed him from the bank. Alvarez even changed his pace twice, hoping to elude him. Yet, here he was. Upon reaching Beckett’s table, Alvarez all but tossed the wallet and paperwork at him.
“Is he coming this way?!”
Beckett looked around Alvarez. “Who?”
“The cop.”
Beckett looked again. “No. He just sat down two tables behind you.”
Alvarez breathed a sigh of relief.
“Wait a minute! Are you saying you thought a cop was following you? And you came right to me and threw the incriminating evidence at me, like some punk throwing his gun out the window when the cops start chasing him?”
“Fuck off.”
“Fuck off?! I’ll tell you-” Beckett stopped mid-sentence as the officer rose from his seat. “Shit! Your friend stood up.” Beckett jammed the wallet into his back pocket.
“What’s he doing?”
“He’s talking to the woman behind you.” Beckett folded the paperwork and slipped it into the duffel bag without taking his eyes off the officer. “Now he’s sitting down at her table.”
Alvarez’s shoulders slumped. “I feel sick.”
Corbin looked at the food before him. The meal was planned perfectly to appear on the receipt as if two people were eating. When he first arrived, he sat in the bar and ordered a beer and meal-sized plate of nachos, both of which he abandoned when he moved to a table. After moving to the table, he ordered a Coke, a tuna melt with vegetables instead of fries, and a side order of onion rings. He finished it all off with a coffee and two cookies. To disguise the fact he didn’t eat most of the food, he cut everything into small pieces and piled the dishes on top of each other. He shoved the cookies into his pocket.
Today’s waitress was Alice. Not coincidentally, Alice served Corbin and Beckett the day before as well. Corbin learned months prior how to choose a waitress by asking to be seated in particular sections. Using this method, he chose Alice both as a waitress and an alibi.
“Where’s your friend?” Alice knew both Corbin and Beckett. In fact, they tipped well enough that all the staff knew them.
“He’s back at the office trying to finish some project. Tomorrow is his last day.”
“Aw! We’re going to miss him! Is he coming tomorrow?”
“As far as I know.”
“Remind me, I’ll get him one of the birthday cakes.”
“Chocolate, yellow or other?” Corbin raised an eyebrow.
“It’ll be a surprise!”
“Great, he loves surprises.” Corbin handed her Beckett’s credit card to pay the bill. She never noticed. One well-practiced forgery later, Corbin was on his way to the next restaurant.
The lunch crowd packed the counter. Alvarez and Beckett stepped into one of the lines, though it was more of a cluster or a rabble than a line. Alvarez kept looking over his shoulder at the officer, prompting Beckett to tell him to “stop acting like an asshole” and “face forward.” Eventually, Alvarez found himself with only one customer between himself and the counter, but this customer was having problems ordering.
“I’m not sure what I’d like,” said the customer, as he stared at the menu.
“What the fuck?!” Alvarez said to himself, but loudly enough that everyone nearby heard. “Buddy, can you get a move on? I’ve got to get back to work.”
Beckett tapped Alvarez’s back. “Let it go.”
“Miss, what comes on the Big Mac,” the customer asked, ignoring Alvarez.
“You’ve got to be kidding me!” Alvarez exclaimed.
“Stop,” Beckett scolded him.
“What?! Why should I?” Alvarez turned to face Beckett. “What kind of fucking moron doesn’t know what they put on Big Macs! It takes a real Goddamn idiot to be confused by the McDonalds menu. Monkeys know this menu! Children can recite it at birth!”
“Calm down,” Beckett hissed under his breath.
Alvarez ignored Beckett and continued his rant. “He had ten frickin’ minutes to figure out what he wanted, but he waited until he got to the counter to look at the menu? That’s disrespect,” he said loudly, though he spoke to no one in particular.
“Shut the hell up,” Beckett grunted through gritted teeth, motioning toward the officer with his eyes.
Alvarez took a deep breath, like a bull snorting as it makes up its mind whether or not to attack. As he looked around, he slowly realized everyone was staring at him. “Bah!” Alvarez tossed his hands into the air and turned to face the counter.
“You’re an idiot,” Beckett whispered to Alvarez.
“Don’t start with me,” Alvarez warned Beckett over his shoulder.
A few miles down the road from Fiddeja’s, Corbin ordered the same meal Alvarez ordered every day: the fish and chips platter with a Coke. It didn’t look appetizing, but then, he didn’t plan to eat it. Corbin dumped the meal into a nearby bus tray and called the waitress over. He handed her Alvarez’s credit card. She promptly returned.
“I’m sorry sir, but this card expired.”
“What?” Corbin stared blankly at the waitress.
“It’s expired.”
Corbin cursed Alvarez under his breath. “I had no idea, I’m sorry.” Corbin pulled out his wallet. Fortunately, he had enough cash that he didn’t need to risk using one of his own credit cards. “So much for your alibi, Vez. . dumbass.”
Alvarez had unwrapped his burger by the time Beckett made it to the table, the same table they sat at before. Owing to the size of the lunch crowd, this was the only available table in the entire restaurant. Unfortunately, the police officer still sat only two seats away, although he was distracted by the woman in the low-cut sweater.
“What the hell was that about,” Beckett whispered across the table.
“You heard me, who does that guy think-”
“Listen very carefully,” Beckett said, cutting him off. “You need to avoid being noticed. Picking a fight in a McDonalds in full view of fifty people is not keeping a low profile.”
“I know that.”
“Then don’t do it.”
“Shut the hell up!”
“Stop drawing attention to yourself,” Beckett ordered. He leaned back and took a deep breath. As he did, the wallet he had so hastily jammed into his back pocket earlier fell out onto the floor behind him. He didn’t notice. He leaned toward Alvarez again. “If you aren’t more careful, you’re going to make a mistake, and that’s going to get us caught.”
Alvarez didn’t respond.
“If you can’t calm down, then we need to stop this ride right now.”
Alvarez rubbed his temples. “Stop talking about it! I just need a break.” Alvarez picked up his burger, but put it down again without taking a bite. “This is really stressful, and you’re not helping. Plus, I’m getting a headache from the glasses.”
“Don’t blame me for your nerves. Corbin said you were solid. He didn’t tell me you were a nut.”
“Yeah well, Corbin warned me you were a pain in the ass, but he didn’t tell me you were King of the Hemorrhoids.”
“You want to quit this right now?!”
“Don’t be an ass. We started this thing, we finish it. . I just need a break for a few minutes.” Alvarez stared out the window. “Talk about something else.”
“Nice weather today. I’m glad it’s not super hot yet.”
Alvarez continued to stare silently out the window.
“You know, Philly’s not a bad city if you don’t mind the endless construction, the dirt, and the crime. Crime! Now that’s ironic!” Beckett laughed.
Alvarez picked up his fries, but set them down again without eating any.
“Now Baltimore, that’s an ugly city. You’re from Baltimore, right?”
Alvarez jolted back to reality. Corbin warned them not to discuss their backgrounds, but Beckett kept prying all day. “Am I supposed to answer that?!” Alvarez demanded.
“Don’t be so touchy. I’m just making conversation.”
“Do you want my social security number too?! How about my mother’s maiden name?!”
“It was just a question. No harm intended.”
They sat in silence for several minutes. Alvarez still didn’t eat.
“Are you going to eat or should we get back to it.”
Alvarez looked at his burger. “Let’s get out of here.”
They packed up their trays before Beckett lifted the duffel bag over his shoulder. He followed Alvarez to the door. Neither noticed the wallet lying on the floor behind them.
“Lose something?” Molly asked from Corbin’s doorway. Her feet were spread as far apart as her tight skirt would allow, and she tossed an orange back and forth between her hands as if she were juggling.
“Like what?”
“Your roomie, perhaps? Where’s Becks?”
“I don’t know. He’s in high demand today, like a hooker at a cattleman’s association ball.”
“That’s lovely.”
“I thought so.”
Molly drifted toward Beckett’s desk. “It’s funny I haven’t seen him all day.”
“That’s not funny. Wanna hear something funny?”
“What?”
“What do you do with an elephant with three balls?”
“Walk him and pitch to the rhino. Why haven’t I seen him all day?”
“I don’t know, how’s your vision?”
“You know what I think?”
“Does anyone?” Corbin asked.
“I’m thinking he didn’t even come to work today. Did he?”
“That would be quite a surprise to the people who’ve seen him.”
“I’m supposed to take their word for it?”
Corbin chuckled. “You’re right, this could all be some vast conspiracy to give him a day off. What exactly do you think he’s doing if he’s not here?”
“You tell me, you’re his accomplice.”
Beckett and Alvarez stood on the steps of a post office, arguing over the map.
“I’m telling you, we need to go back down this road and over one,” Beckett said, pointing to his right.
“No, you’re wrong. We need to go this way, and over one in that direction,” Alvarez countered, pointing to the left.
“Let me see the map, I’ll show you.”
“I know how to read maps.”
“Apparently, you don’t.”
Alvarez pointed toward a glass building. “That’s the IACC Bank. That’s the direction we need to go.”
“No, that’s the back of the bank.”
“If you’re so sure, why don’t you walk over there? Then you can meet me at the next bank after you realize you’re wrong.”
“Why don’t we ask someone?”
“And ruin that low profile you keep whining about?” Alvarez asked snidely.
“Ok then, let’s keep arguing in the street, because that doesn’t look suspicious.”
“Let’s flip a coin. That’s the best way to solve this.”
Beckett laughed. “That’s the stupidest thing I’ve heard today.”
“All right, how do you want to resolve this?”
Beckett paused to consider. “I’ll flip, you call.”
Alvarez won the toss. “Good. This way.”
“Oh look, there’s a CVS on the way. We can stop and get your valium refilled.”
“Keep it up and we’ll be stopping for bandages.”
Corbin picked up the telephone. It was time to call Beckett’s house. By pure chance, Beckett’s wife was at a parent-teacher conference right now, so Corbin wouldn’t need to pretend to be a solicitor. Instead, he could let the answering machine record silence. Corbin entered the number from Beckett’s phone card and then Beckett’s home phone number. The machine answered. Corbin placed the receiver on mute and waited until the line disconnected. As far as the phone company records were concerned, Beckett just made his daily call home.
Of all the bank managers Alvarez encountered, he liked none less than this one. This guy was a jerk. He checked and double checked everything, he made photocopies and more photocopies, and he made snide comments throughout. At first, he seemed decent enough, until he learned Alvarez was only depositing $100. From that moment on, the man delighted in taking shots at him. Alvarez even tried to soften him up by suggesting he would deposit a large sum in the coming week, but this just increased the man’s animosity.
“I see” — the man dismissed everything Alvarez said with the phrase “I see” — “We do get a large number of Penn kids in here who have their parents send them money from overseas.”
“It’s my money, not my parents’.”
“I see. Will you be needing checks?”
“Yes, I’d like checks.”
“You do know there is a fee for those checks?” the man added drolly.
Alvarez clenched his fists. “Yes, I understand that,” he said with open hostility.
The man ignored Alvarez’s hostility and continued with his snide tone. “You do realize you can’t write checks for more than you have in the account, correct?”
“I know that too. I’ve had bank accounts before.”
“I see.”
“This is making me very angry, Alex,” the gray-haired woman said to Corbin.
“I’m sorry to hear that, Patricia.”
“I asked you to call me when Evan returned to his desk.”
“And I’ve done that three times now.”
“He’s never been here when I arrived.”
“I can’t help that. I’m not a warden. I don’t control his movements. I notified you as ordered.”
“Alex, it’s important I get this done,” the old woman said sternly. “I want you to find out where he’s at and let me know. I’ll go there and get the file directly from him.”
“I don’t know where he’s at, Pat, and frankly, it’s not my job. If you want to find him, send out your little minions and let them hunt him down.”
As Beckett sat on the park bench, watching the bank, a large number of grade-school children began pouring around the corner and gathering at the bank’s entrance. “What the heck?” Soon a woman appeared. She looked like a teacher. Then another woman appeared, possibly a second teacher. When the flow of children finally stopped, Beckett estimated the herd at fifty head. The two women lined the children up into rows of ten and started them into the bank. “He’s gonna love this.”
Corbin politely informed the well-wisher, the fifth in the last twenty minutes, that he had just missed Beckett. Corbin told the same thing to each of the other well-wishers as well. This one, however, hung on longer than most.
“I thought he might be here. I just got an e-mail from him,” the man in the gray striped suit and ugly orange tie repeated. For being nowhere near his desk all day, “Beckett” sent out a large number of e-mails throughout the day.
“I’ll tell him you dropped by,” Corbin reassured the man, sneaking a peek at his brown shoes and white socks, beneath his too-short suit pants.
“Thank you, Alex. How are you doing? Have you met your new officemate yet?”
“No, I haven’t.”
“He’s a fine fellow. You two should get along quite nicely.”
“So I’ve heard.”
As the well-wisher finally drifted off down the hallway, Molly replaced him at the door. She spent more time in Corbin’s office today than in her own. This time, she stirred a coffee cup.
“Hmmm, coffee. Where is your lazy roommate?”
“Beats me.”
“You can’t cover for him forever.”
“I’m not covering. He’s here somewhere.”
“Uh huh,” Molly said. “You’re going to get caught, it’s just a matter of time.”
“Good thing he gave me a suicide pill before he snuck out then, isn’t it,” Corbin said facetiously.
“Sure, laugh it off, but people are starting to notice.”
Corbin put his hand to his cheek and mustered his best “deeply concerned” tone. “Really? People besides you?”
“I wouldn’t want to say.”
“Your concern is touching,” Corbin said returning to his normal voice. “Why are you so paranoid about this?”
“I’m not paranoid. I’m observant.”
“That’s what all the crazies say.”
“You’ll have to produce him at some point. That’s when this game of yours ends.”
“Maybe I can find a double?” Corbin laughed.
“Laugh all you want, but time is running out.”
“What happened?” Beckett asked, noting Alvarez’s shell-shocked appearance.
“If this was the first bank, I would have quit right there.”
“Fortunately, this was the last bank. What happened?”
“I was dealing with the manager, a royal cocksucker,” Alvarez said distantly. “I don’t know what his problem was, but he gave me grief about everything. He asked so many questions, I thought he was gonna jam a flashlight up my ass. I’ll tell you one thing, Corbin did a hell of a job with those fakes. Even his lease was perfect. This guy actually read the damn thing!”
“As I said earlier, Corbin is a talented criminal. Get back to the story.”
“Just as I thought I’d finally gotten everything resolved, he hands me the forms and I start zipping through them. Suddenly, all hell breaks loose. You know how when it starts raining, you see one rain drop, then another, and then two, and then a dozen, and suddenly you’re in a deluge? Same shit here. First, one kid, then two, then four, then a deluge: wave after wave of kids pouring through the door. They were everywhere, behind every counter, in front of every teller, blocking every exit. Dozens of little eyes stared at me as I filled out the forms. It was the most surreal thing I’ve ever experienced. Apparently, it was some sort of school field trip.”
“They’re just kids.”
“Yeah well, with the bank manager’s accusing stares, they seemed more like his own personal army of winged monkeys, watching me. . staring at me.”
Beckett looked at his watch. “Come on Dorothy, time to get back to Kansas.”
Molly walked straight into Corbin’s office without knocking and sat down at Beckett’s desk. She scanned the desk for signs that Beckett had been there recently. Watching her examine Beckett’s coffee cup, Corbin congratulated himself for emptying half its contents only moments before.
“This is getting old. Where is he?!”
“Around.”
“No, he isn’t. You two are up to something.” Molly picked up the coffee cup to see if it was still warm.
“No, we’re not, Molly.”
“I know you are. Your little friend hasn’t been in here all day.” Molly flipped through the papers on Beckett’s desk.
“Yes, he has.”
“Hello! I’m in the office next door. I would know.”
Corbin shrugged his shoulders. “What do you want me to tell you?”
“How about the truth?”
“You won’t like the truth.”
Molly spun around. “Let’s hear it!” she demanded.
“The truth is he’s been in and out all day. Every time his rear hits the chair, someone calls him or e-mails him, and he takes off. The only break he’s had, that I know of, came when we went to lunch.”
Molly shook her head. “No.”
“I don’t know what else I can do to prove it to you?”
“Habeas corpus counselor, produce the corpse.”
“What is it with the big words today? Did you swallow a dictionary last night?”
Molly waved her finger at Corbin. “I know he hasn’t been here, and I’m going to prove it. You can let me in on your little secret now, or I’ll expose you later.”
“There’s nothing to expose!”
“Yes, there is,” she said, rising from Beckett’s chair. “The more you deny it the more I’m convinced. You won’t get away with it, whatever it is, so you might as well tell me now.”
“Go away.”
“I’m warning you. Just when you think you’ve gotten away with it, there I’ll be, and you’ll be sorry you didn’t let me in on your little plan.” Molly slammed the office door.
Beckett stood in the middle of 30th Street Station. A towering statue of the Archangel Michael, lifting the body of a dead soldier, looked down on Beckett from the entranceway to the cavernous room. Beckett felt relieved. They’d gotten away with it, so far at least. The money still had to be collected, but that was up to Corbin and Alvarez. Beckett’s role was over, so he planted himself on a wooden bench and let his eyes roam the room, enjoying the artwork and watching the passersby. As he sat there, all of his muscles relaxed and he nearly fell asleep.
Alvarez joined him after buying a Coke.
Beckett ran his hand along the heavy bench. “This bench has probably been here at least a hundred years.”
“Could be.” Alvarez felt more drained than relaxed.
“I wonder how many thieves sat on this very spot during those hundred years?”
“Whatever it is, add two more.” Alvarez rubbed his eyes and popped the top on his Coke. “I need to go to the bathroom.”
“Don’t let me stop you.”
“Corbin wanted me to take the duffel bag.”
“To the can?” Beckett asked facetiously.
“You know what I mean.”
Beckett waved his hand toward the bag. “All yours.”
“Is everything in there?”
“Yep.”
“Your pockets are empty?”
Beckett raised an eyebrow. “Yes.”
“Do you want to check again.”
“No.”
Alvarez grabbed the bag. “I’ll see you on the train. Remember, we agreed to board separately.”
“I remember.”
Alvarez pulled the duffel bag over his shoulder. He looked up at the station board. The train was running late.
For the past hour, Corbin fended off several waves of well-wishers, many of whom were repeat visitors who wondered why Beckett had yet to come see them. So far, everything ran smoothly, but Corbin knew Beckett needed to make an appearance soon or things could unravel. Before Beckett could make his appearance however, Corbin needed to pick him up. To do that, he had to get rid of Molly. This was proving to be difficult. As the day progressed, her suspicion level increased. Beginning an hour ago, she started making spot checks in Corbin’s office. Now she tried a new tactic.
Molly entered the office without knocking and made her way to Beckett’s chair. “Fancy meeting you here, too bad I can’t say the same thing about your roomie.” She was shaking something between her fingers.
“What’s shakin’?”
Molly showed Corbin a small glass bottle containing a liquid that matched the dark-red color on her nails. “I was sitting all by myself in my office, thinking about doing my nails. Then I remembered you were all alone, so I thought I’d come over here and keep you company. I brought plenty of polish, if you want to share.”
“I’ll pass.”
“How are things?” Molly set the nail polish down and began filing one of her nails.
“I’m actually kind of busy, Molly.”
“Don’t let me interrupt you.”
“That’s not what I meant.” Corbin waited, but Molly didn’t respond. “Ok, let’s be blunt. Please leave.”
“No.”
“I don’t want to throw you out, but I will.”
“Doubt it.” Molly concentrated on her filing.
“I can make you want to leave.”
“Not until I find out what you two are up to.”
“If you don’t leave, I’ll start making lewd comments until you do leave.”
“You wouldn’t know how.” Molly still didn’t look up from her work.
“Fine, you asked for it,” Corbin said reluctantly. He slowly examined her up and down, as if he were a computer conducting an electronic scan.
Noticing his silence, Molly looked up to see what Corbin was doing. “What are you looking at?”
“I understand that one of the hardest things for strippers to deal with are guys who show up just to nitpick their bodies. I’m going to put that to the test. First, I’m going to guess your weight, then I’m going to move on to guessing other measurements.” Molly was by no means fat, but she wasn’t exactly thin either. And while Corbin found her figure quite attractive, he knew her weight was an issue for her, as he’d seen the much slenderer Theresa score direct hits on this point several times in the past.
Molly’s smile vanished instantly. “You wouldn’t dare.”
“If you’re still here after that, I’ll start cataloging defects. Last chance to leave.”
“You wouldn’t dare,” she repeated.
“Let’s see, you’re certainly north of 150 pounds.”
Molly’s face flushed.
“I’d say you’re probably north of 160 as well.”
Molly’s face turned bright red and her eyes bulged.
“Maybe as much as 164, though I wouldn’t rule out 170.”
Molly’s jaw dropped. Not only had Corbin guessed, but he’d guessed somewhat accurately. “Bastard!” she spat out.
“Are you leaving?”
“No,” Molly said resolutely.
“Those are some mighty big feet you got there, Molly, not to mention some saggy-”
“Stop!” Molly jerked herself out of the chair. As she stormed out the door in a huff, she cursed Corbin over her shoulder.
Corbin breathed a sigh of relief. Now he could get Beckett.
When Beckett and Alvarez boarded in Philadelphia, their car was nearly empty. By the time they reached the outer suburbs, they were alone. With no one to overhear them, they began arguing and accusing each other of making the entire trip unnecessarily difficult. This continued until they reached Baltimore.
Alvarez rose as the train rolled to a stop. He grabbed the duffel bag. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but I never want to see you again.”
“Ditto.”
Without another word, Alvarez left the train.
Beckett watched him leave. “Idiot.”