Дэвид Балдаччи - The Collectors

Annabelle noted the woman wasn’t wearing a wedding band but had worn one recently, because the skin was lighter where the ring would’ve been.

“My ex left me for a younger woman and cleaned out our accounts,” Annabelle said bitterly. “I’ve had to build my whole life back. It hasn’t been easy. But I wasn’t going to let him have the satisfaction, you know? I’ll take the damn alimony because I earned that. But he’s not controlling my life.”

The woman’s demeanor changed, and she said in a low whisper, “I know exactly what you mean,” she said as she completed the deposit. “Twelve years of marriage, and my ex decides to trade me in for a new model too.”

“I wish we could just give them a pill that would train them right, you know?”

“Oh, I want to give my ex a pill, all right. A cyanide pill,” the clerk said.

Annabelle glanced at the docs on the counter and said casually, “I suppose there’ll be a hold on the funds, won’t there? It’s just that I have some vendors to pay. I wish I could get to keep the whole amount, but my profit margins are only about ten percent, if I’m lucky.”

The clerk hesitated. “Well, normally, there would be with a check this size.” She looked at Annabelle, smiled and eyed her computer. “But the account the check’s drawn on has plenty of money to cover it. And there have been no problems in your company account. So I’ll make the funds immediately available.”

“That’s great, I really appreciate it.”

“We girls have to stick together.”

“Yes, we do,” Annabelle said as she turned and walked out with her deposit slip showing her “company” to be $40,000 richer.

Meanwhile, Leo raced through his group of checks, usually not spending more than ten minutes at each bank. Speed was the key here, he knew. Speed without sloppiness, however. His method was typically to crack a joke, usually at his own expense, to break the ice with the teller.

“I wish that money was going into my personal account,” he told one clerk in his guise as a company gofer. “Then I could make my rent payment. Is there anyplace in this damn town that doesn’t want your firstborn for a security deposit on a one-bedroom?”

“Not that I’ve ever heard of,” the teller answered sympathetically.

Leo went on, “I mean, I don’t even have a freaking one-bedroom. All I’ve got is a one-sleeper-sofa apartment.”

“You’re lucky. On what the bank pays I’m still living with my parents.”

“Yeah, but I’ve got about thirty years on you. With the way I’m going, by the time you’re running this place, I’ll be living with my parents.”

The teller laughed and handed Leo a deposit receipt for $38,000. “Don’t spend it all in one place,” the young man chided.

“Not to worry,” Leo replied, tucking the paper in his pocket and walking off whistling.

By later that afternoon they’d passed seventy-seven of the eighty checks, with Tony moving ten of them and growing more confident with each one.

“This is easy,” Tony declared in the van as he changed clothes along with Leo. Annabelle was behind a sheet strung up across part of the van doing the same thing. Tony added, “Those idiots just stand there and take every line you feed them. They never even look at the paper. I don’t know why anybody bothers robbing banks anymore.”

Annabelle poked her head over the top of the sheet. “We’ve got three more checks. We’ll each take one.”

“And watch your head when you get out of the van, Tony,” Leo said.

“Watch my head, what are you talking about?”

“I mean, it’s so big right now, it might not fit through the doors.”

“Why the hell do you keep giving me a hard time, Leo?”

“He’s giving you a hard time, Tony, because passing altered checks isn’t easy,” Annabelle said.

“Well, it is for me.”

Leo said, “That’s because Annabelle in her infinite wisdom gave you the easiest ones to pass.”

Tony whirled around to look at her. “Is that true?”

“Yes,” she said bluntly, her bare shoulders showing above the top of the sheet.

“I can take care of myself,” Tony shot back. “You don’t have to baby me.”

“I’m not doing it for you,” Annabelle answered. “If you go down, you’ll take us with you.” Her eyes glittered at him for an instant and then relaxed. “Besides, it makes no sense to throw a talented con in over his head. That can do a lot more harm than good.”

She ducked down behind the sheet. With a little light coming in from the van’s tinted windows, the sheet was somewhat transparent. Tony stared at Annabelle’s silhouette as she shed her clothes and put others on.

Leo jabbed him in the ribs and growled, “Have some respect, kid.”

Tony turned slowly to look at him. “Damn,” he said quietly.

“What, you’ve never seen a beautiful woman undress before?”

“No. I mean, yes, I have.” He looked down at his hands.

“What’s wrong with you?” Leo asked.

Tony looked up. “I think she just called me a talented con.”

It was the last pass. Tony was standing in front of the teller, a cute young Asian woman with shoulder-length black hair, flawless skin and walnut cheekbones. Clearly intrigued, Tony leaned closer and rested his arm on the counter.

“You lived here long?” he asked her.

“A few months; I moved here from Seattle.”

“Same sort of weather,” Tony said.

“Yes,” the woman answered, smiling as she worked away.

“I just moved here from Vegas,” Tony said. “Now, that’s a fun town.”

“I’ve never been.”

“Oh, man, it’s a blast. You’ve gotta go. And like they say, what happens in Vegas stays in Vegas.” He looked at her expectantly. “I’d love to show you around.”

She looked at him disapprovingly. “I don’t even know you.”

“Okay, we don’t have to start with Vegas. Maybe we just start with lunch.”

She said defiantly, “How do you know I don’t have a boyfriend?”

“As gorgeous as you are, you probably do. But that means I have to work all that much harder to make you forget him.”

The woman blushed and looked down, but now she was smiling again. “You’re crazy.” She hit some keys on her computer. “Okay, can I see some ID?”

“Only if you promise you won’t say no when I officially ask you out.”

She took the ID from him and let her finger graze his. He gave her another smile.

She glanced at the ID and looked puzzled. “I thought you said you just moved here from Vegas?”

“That’s right.”

“But your ID says Arizona.” She turned it around to show him. “And that really doesn’t look like you.”

Oh, crap! He’d pulled the wrong ID from his pocket. Despite Annabelle instructing him to only take one ID pack at a time, he’d stubbornly carried them all. In the photo his hair was blond and he had a small goatee and was wearing Ben Franklin eyeglasses.

“I lived in Arizona but worked in Vegas, it was cheaper,” he said quickly. “And I decided to change my style, new color, contact lenses. You know.”

As soon as he delivered these lame lines, he knew it was over.

The teller stared at the check, and her look became even more suspicious. “This is a California bank check and a California company, but the routing number is for New York. Why’s that?”

“Routing numbers? I don’t know anything about that,” Tony said, his voice now quavering. From her expression Tony knew the woman had already pronounced him guilty of bank fraud. She glanced in the direction of the security guard and placed the check and Tony’s fake ID down on the counter in front of her. “I’m going to have to call my manager over,” the teller began.