Stuart Woods - Orchid Blues

"I think Ham might hear from them again," Holly said. "They seemed real interested in him."

Harry turned to Ham. "You think they might contact you?"

Ham shrugged. "Who knows?"

"If they do, will you play along a little?"

Ham shrugged again. "Let's see how it goes. I don't have much time for people like that."

"Don't mention that to them," Harry said.

Holly arrived at her office on Monday morning to find a message to call Joy Williams at Southern Trust; it was marked "urgent." Holly picked up the phone.

"Joy Williams."

"Hi, Joy, it's Holly Barker, from the Orchid Beach Police Department."

"Oh, Chief," Williams said. "Thanks for calling me back so quickly."

"What can I do for you?"

"Well, I feel kind of embarrassed about this."

"About what?"

"About my assessment of a certain person at our meeting the other day."

"Which person is that?"

"Franklin Morris."

"The loan officer?"

"That's the one."

"What about him?"

"Well, he didn't show up at church on Sunday, which is unusual. I can't ever remember his missing a service."

"Do you think something may be wrong with him? Ill, maybe?"

"Ill, no; wrong, yes."

"Tell me."

"Well, he didn't show up for work this morning, either, and he's usually here by eight. I called his home, and there was no answer."

"Did you send someone to his house?"

"I went myself."

"And what did you find?"

"I didn't find anything."

"I'm sorry, I don't understand, Joy."

"I mean, there wasn't anything to find. Nobody answered the door, and when I looked through a window, the house was empty."

"You mean there was nobody home?"

"There was nothing there-no people, no furniture, no nothing."

"You mean, he has decamped?"

"I think that's the perfect word, 'decamped.' I checked with his immediate supervisor and the other people on the platform, and none of them had heard a word from him."

"As I recall, you said he had come from your Miami branch?"

"No, I said he had come from Miami. We don't have a branch in Miami."

"I must have misunderstood," Holly said. "Did he come from another bank?"

"Yes, he had previously been at South Beach Bank. When he applied here, he said he wanted to get his family away from the big city and into a smaller, friendlier town."

"Did you check his employment there?"

"Yes, I faxed them and asked about him. I got a faxed reply the same day from the president of the bank. He said he understood Franklin's reasons far wanting to leave Miami, and he gave him the highest recommendation."

"Have you spoken to the Miami bank president about this?"

"Not yet. I thought maybe you should speak to him."

"I'll be over there shortly," Holly said, "and we'll get to the bottom of this."

"Thank you, Chief."

Holly went to Hurd Wallace's office. "Remember the young loan officer who was the other recent hire at Southern Trust?"

"Yep."

"Sounds like he's taken a very big powder. I'm going over there now to find out what I can."

"Need any help?"

"Not yet. I'll call you if I do."

Holly collected Daisy and drove over to the bank. When she entered Joy Williams's office, the woman looked flustered.

"What's wrong, Joy?"

"I called South Beach Bank, and the number had been disconnected. So had the fax number."

"You said the president of the bank faxed you a recommendation?"

Williams handed over a letter. Holly took it, sat down and read the letter.

"It looks genuine enough," Holly said.

"Yes, it has all the right elements for a bank letterhead," Joy agreed.

"Did you try information, to see if the bank had moved?"

"I did. There was no listing for a South Beach Bank anywhere in Dade County. Also, I looked them up in a directory of banks, and they simply don't exist."

"May I use your phone, Joy?"

"Of course."

"And I wonder if you'd do me a favor while I'm calling."

"Anything."

"Would you please go down to the platform and ask Mr. Morris's coworkers not to touch his desk or anything on it?"

"Of course." Joy got up and left the office.

Holly dialed the station and got Hurd. "Will you send our tech over here? I want to go over Morris's desk and see if we can pick up some prints we can run. I want anyone who might have touched his desk printed, too."

"Sure thing. They're on their way."

Holly walked down to the platform, where Joy Williams had gathered the bank's officers together.

"Oh, here's Chief Barker, now," she said.

"Good morning, folks. I guess Joy has asked you not to touch Mr. Morris's desk?"

Everybody nodded.

"I've got a fingerprint technician on the way here now to see if we can lift Mr. Morris's fingerprints from his desk. It's important for me to know if any of you have touched the desk."

A young woman's hand went up.

"Your name?"

"Sally Duff," the young woman said. "I'm Mr. Morris's secretary. I mean, I work for all the people on the platform. I think I've touched it."

"We'll want to get your fingerprints, too," Holly said.

"But I haven't done anything wrong," she protested.

"I know that. We just have to be able to distinguish your fingerprints from Mr. Morris's."

"Oh, I see."

Joy Williams spoke up. "I have a record of Franklin's fingerprints," she said. "We take everyone's prints for their personnel files. It's a security precaution."

"Did you have anyone run the prints through the state or federal computers?" Holly asked.

"No, I'm afraid not," Williams replied, sheepishly.

So much for security, Holly thought.

An hour later, Sally Duff had been fingerprinted, and the technician had gone over the desk.

"What's the story?" Holly asked.

"There's more than one set of prints here, but there are lots and lots belonging to one subject. I suspect that would be Franklin Morris."

"Did you compare them to the prints in his personnel file?"

"Yes, and they're different."

Holly turned to Joy Williams. "How were Franklin Morris's prints taken?"

"By our security department. I sent him down there, and he came back with a fingerprint card."

Holly looked at the file. "This card?" It was a standard form available from security supply businesses.

"Yes, that one."

She removed the card from the file and handed it to the technician.

"Take this back to the station and run both sets of prints. Tell Hurd I've gone to Morris's residence."

"Yes, ma'am."

Holly looked at the address on Morris's employment application. "Is this the correct address?" she asked.

"That's it," Joy replied.

"Thanks for your help, Joy. I'll let you know what we come up with."

Holly left the bank and started toward Franklin Morris's house.

The house was a neatly kept 1950s ranch house in an older section of town, near a golf course. It was made of pink stucco with a concrete tile roof, like more than half the houses in Orchid Beach. Most of those that hadn't been built of these materials had been remodeled in them. She parked in the driveway, walked up the front flagstone path and rang the doorbell.

She hadn't expected an answer. She tried looking through the front window, but the Venetian blinds had been closed. Through a crack at the end, she could see a corner of what appeared to be an empty living room. She walked around to the back of the house and flipped open her cell phone and called Hurd. "Hurd Wallace."

"I'm at the Franklin Morris residence, and I want you to go over to the courthouse and get a search warrant." She gave him the address. "What's my probable cause?"

"A bank officer has left town abruptly a few days after the bank was robbed. I think that ought to do it. When you get the warrant, bring it over here and bring the tech with you."