Page 35 of Mission: Possible
"About as rarely as a blue moon."
"Nah. It's just rare you see me. I do have to travel to and from work and home somehow."
"I guess I thought you burrowed through underground tunnels, or perhaps emailed yourself as an attachment."
Lucas grinned. "If only."
"Any luck with your brother?" asked Solomon.
"Jord was assigned the case and had a very interesting theory to share." I looked around, checking there was no one to overhear but the sidewalk was clear of pedestrians. I waited for a truck to rumble loudly past before I said, "I told him Charlie hired us and he wanted to know if Charlie wanted the mystery item returned for himself or the true owner. We assumed Charlie wanted the item back on behalf of his customer or of his employer because that's what he implied."
Solomon and Lucas exchanged glances.
"What?" I asked. "Did you already consider that?"
"No. I should have but I didn't," said Solomon. "That is an interesting theory. Unfortunately, we have no way of knowing the truth and seeing how unhelpful Charlie has been so far, I don't think we can count on him for a straight answer."
"So we persevere?" I asked.
Solomon nodded. "Plus, Charlie is paying us to find the item even if the check is drawn on the bank's funds. Our case ends the moment we hand it over. It's not up to us what he does with it."
"But he might be stealing something!"
"If that's the plan, and we figure out the identity of the true owner, we could tell them although I need to think about that. Our duty belongs to our client. If the law is being broken, it definitely changes things and could terminate our relationship. Right now, all I know is nothing is clear cut."
"Did you know the robbers closed these huge wooden gates? I don't ever recall seeing them closed before," I said as I stepped around Solomon and examined the heavy anchors that kept the gates open and in place. I tried to move one but it didn't budge and the depth of the wood spanned most of my palm. "Are they always padlocked to the wall?" I asked, noticing the heavy chain bolted to the wall.
"From what I remember," said Solomon.
"Someone had to unlock them," said Lucas. He lifted his chin, indicating the top corner of the entry. "There's a camera over the doorway but I'll need to examine the feed to see if it covers the padlocks specifically."
"All the robbers wore masks," I reminded them.
"Someone wearing a mask and unlocking padlocks might have been observed by a pedestrian. It would take a couple of minutes max to pick these since they're more ornamental than security, and move them to a closed position. Plus, I'm told a 'closed for maintenance' sign was out on the sidewalk, which explains why no one seemed to care that the original doors weren't in their usual, open position. However, a mask would definitely attract someone’s attention," said Solomon.
"I'm thinking one of their crew came ahead of the robbery and did the prep work in plain view. A crew of six can't have huddled together, masked and armed, in the entry while one of them put out a sign and unlocked the gates so they could seal the bank from view."
"Good thinking," said Solomon. "Let's see what we find."
The three of us walked in together, Solomon going slightly ahead with Lucas and me flanking him. "If we were in a movie, this would be a power walk scene," whispered Lucas.
"We'd all need to wear heels to carry that off," I whispered back.
Solomon flashed us a look and we hushed. I couldn't blame him. Heels would never suit him.
A few patrons peppered the bank and tellers sat at every window like nothing unusual ever happened. We walked past them to the small suite of desks opposite. One of the women seemed to be expecting us because she rose and walked over, shaking our hands. "You must be Mr. Solomon. I'm Patricia. Mr. Sampson said to show you and your team to his office. Please follow me," she added, walking ahead of us to the same door I watched the robbers take Charlie through. She swiped her pass through the electronic key machine, inputting a code, and the door opened. We walked through and she shut it firmly behind us. Unlike the charming details in the bank's public areas, this anteroom was small and empty of anything but a few framed paintings of sullen, old men hanging on the walls. Several doors were connected by a short hall and only one had a thick, security bar across the middle and an illuminated exit sign above it.
"Where do all these doors go?" asked Solomon.
"Mr. Sampson also instructed me to answer any questions you might have, so that door is used by the tellers you see in the bank. They have to swipe their passes whenever they enter and exit. That door leads to the bank vault, which is downstairs in the basement. The furthest door leads to the outside parking lot and this door—" she said, swiping her card again and pulling a heavy fire door open, "—leads to the offices on the second floor."
The staircase was utilitarian. White walls bore smudges and dents from years of use and the carpet was threadbare, each riser edged with a metal protector. We stepped onto a wide, light-filled landing and then into a corridor. "As you can probably guess, this isn't a part of the building the public normally sees. Mr. Sampson has a cubicle where I met you downstairs to receive special customers but he primarily works here." She stopped at a door, knocked and opened it. "Mr. Solomon and his associates, sir."
"Thanks, Patricia," said Charlie, rising to greet us. I noted the Band-Aid remained but the sling had gone. "You wanted to see the security tapes?" he asked, coming around the desk.
"Please, and anything you can tell me about the setup on the way would help," replied Solomon.
"I'll take you to the security room. I can't tell you much about it since I wasn't involved in the setup," Charlie explained as we stepped back into the corridor. "That was done long before I arrived so I doubt it's the most up to date model."