Page 21 of Sebastian
“Let me get the manager for you.” He scurried toward the back of the building, leaving Hex and Chief seated in a comfortable waiting area.
“Doesn’t that sound convenient that he found a job the week after the bank robbery?” asked Hex. Chief nodded at him, then looked around at the tellers and other bank personnel. Most were older, not young college kids at their first job.
“Awful mature workforce, isn’t it?” frowned Chief.
“Yep.” He tapped his comms and spoke to the others. “Take note of the age of the employees in the banks you’re checking.”
“Roger that.” The chorus of voices replied as they watched the manager walking toward them. She was an older woman, probably in her late fifties or early sixties.
“Gentleman, how can I help you?”
“We’d just like to ask a few questions about the robbery you had. Did you notice any identifying marks on the robbers?” asked Chief.
“No, nothing. I told the FBI agents that same thing. They were polite, even wrote a polite note,” she laughed. “They just wanted the money in the drawers and left.”
“Did you press the alarm button?” asked Hex.
“Of course,” she nodded. “But nothing happened. They discovered later that the cameras and alarms had been disabled. Only temporarily, but it was enough time for them to get what they wanted and leave. Two minutes after they were gone, everything came back online again. We were told these systems were foolproof, but obviously, they weren’t.”
“Was anyone harmed?”
“No,” she laughed. “I know it seems foolish of me, but I don’t think these people wanted to harm anyone. They were quick, kind, and never once yelled at anyone or waved their weapons in our faces. This was not the bank robbery I’d seen in television and movies.”
“That’s good,” said Chief. “Did these people have any limps, maybe one of them using a cane? What about a hearing aid?”
“No,” she said, shaking her head. “I told the agents the same thing. There was nothing visible that anyone saw. They were calm, methodical, walked in casually, walked out casually. That’s it.”
“The senior community across the street looks nice. I’ve been looking for a place for my father. Do you know anything about it?” asked Chief.
“Many of our team members live there,” she smiled. “This is a primarily retired community, so we hire those that need extra income. We’ve got a lot of experience in this room, and they have far more patience with our seniors.”
“I think that’s great,” said Hex.
“It is, but it isn’t. Many of my employees are working because they have to. They don’t make enough money to support themselves or their spouses in retirement. I’ve got at least three who have their children back at home living with them. It’s strange times we’re living in.”
“Yes, ma’am. It sure is.”
Each of the visits to the banks yielded the same information. No visible markings that would tell them who the robbers were. Polite, quiet, and efficient. But nothing else.
“We went to the apartment complex where Helen was living, at least according to her personnel records,” said Sebastian. “Landlord says that she was a good tenant, never caused any issues, paid her rent on time. He knew she was struggling with her utilities and was trying to help her out, but he said that more than a few times, she let her electricity lag.”
“Damn. I hate this,” said Brix. “I hate that we’re chasing down senior citizens that, in all likelihood, are doing this simply to survive. It’s like an aging group of Robin Hoods.” Emelia’s phone rang, and they all turned to look at her.
“Helen’s son,” she whispered, answering the call on speaker. “Mr. Aikens?”
“It’s just Tom, ma’am. You called about my mother. Is she ill?” he asked.
“No. I don’t believe so,” said Emelia. “Tom, my name is Emelia Stanton, and I’m an agent here with the FBI. We have reason to believe that your mother may be involved with a group of individuals, senior citizens, who are robbing banks.” There was a disturbing silence on the other end of the line, and then he spoke.
“I’m not sure what to say, Ms. Stanton. My mother and father were never millionaires, but they had a good retirement.”
“We’ve looked into their finances, Tom. Your mom didn’t have a lot left after burying your father. It seems they lent a great deal of their retirement to you and your sister.”
“Bullshit,” he snapped.
“I’m sorry.”
“No, I mean, that’s bullshit. My parents never gave us a dime. My father believed that we needed to pull our britches up and make it on our own. My sister and I had student debt that nearly killed us, but we made it through. My wife and I moved to Ireland about six years ago, and I’m proud of what we’ve accomplished here.