With his pulse racing in anticipation, Jeffrey called the bank and got
Dudley on the line. He did his best to sound controlled. He asked about the progress on the loan.
"No problem," Dudley said proudly. "Pulling a few strings, I got it approved like that." Jeffrey could hear the man snap his fingers for his benefit. "When will you be coming in?" Dudley continued. "I'd like to be sure I'm here."
"I'll be in shortly," Jeffrey said, planning his schedule. Timing would be key. "I have one other request. I'd like to have the money in cash."
"You're joking," Dudley said.
"I'm serious," Jeffrey insisted.
"It's a bit irregular," Dudley said hesitantly.
Jeffrey hadn't given this issue much thought, and he could sense Dudley's hesitance. He realized he'd have to explain if he hoped to get the money, and he definitely needed the money. He couldn't leave for South America with only pocket change.
"Dudley," Jeffrey began, "I'm in some unfortunate trouble."
"I don't like the sound of this," Dudley said.
"It's not what you're thinking. It's not gambling or anything like that.
The fact is, I have to pay it to a bail bondsman. Haven't you read about my troubles in the papers?"
"No, I haven't," Dudley said, warming up again.
"I got sued for malpractice and then indicted over a tragic anesthesia case. I won't burden you with the details at the moment. The problem is, I need the $45,000 to pay a bail bondsman who posted my bail. He said he wanted it in cash."
"I'm sure a cashier's check would be acceptable."
"Listen, Dudley," Jeffrey said. "The man told me cash. I promised him cash.
What can I say? Do me this one favor. Don't make it any harder on me than it already is."
There was a pause. Jeffrey thought he heard Dudley sigh.
"Are hundred-dollar bills okay?"
"Fine," Jeffrey said. "Hundreds would be perfect." He was wondering how much space four hundred and fifty hundreddollar bills would take.
"I'll have it ready," Dudley said. "I just hope you're not planning on carrying this around for any length of time."
"Just into Boston," Jeffrey said.
Jeffrey hung up the phone. He hoped that Dudley wouldn't call the police or try to check his story. Not that anything wouldn't have jibed. Jeffrey felt the fewer people thinking about him and asking questions, the better, at least until he was on the plane out of New York.
Sitting down with a writing tablet, Jeffrey started a note to Carol, telling her he was taking the $45,000 but that she could have everything else. But the letter sounded awkward. Besides, as he wrote he realized he didn't want to leave any evidence of his intentions in case he was delayed for some reason. He crumpled the paper, set a match to it, and tossed it in the fireplace. Instead of writing, he decided to call Carol from some foreign location and talk to her directly. It would be more personal than a letter. It would be safer, too.
The next issue was what he should take with him. He didn't want to be burdened with a lot of luggage. He settled on a small suitcase, which he loaded with basic casual clothes. He didn't imagine South America would be very formal. By the time he had packed everything he wanted, he had to sit on the suitcase to get it closed. Then he put some things in his briefcase, including his toiletries and clean underwear.
He was about to leave his closet when he eyed his doctor's bag. He hesitated for a moment, wondering what he would do
if something went horribly wrong. To be on the safe side, he opened the doctor's bag and took out an IV setup, a few syringes, a quarter liter of IV fluid, and a vial each of succiny1choline and morphine and packed them in his briefcase beneath the underwear. He didn't like to think he was still entertaining thoughts of suicide, so he told himself that the drugs were like an insurance policy. He hoped he wouldn't need them, but they were there just in case...
Jeffrey felt strange and a little sad glancing around the house for what was probably the last time, knowing he might never lay eyes on it again.
But walking from room to room, he was surprised not to be more upset. There was so much to remind him of past events, both good and bad. But more than anything else, Jeffrey realized that he associated the place with his failed marriage. And just like his malpractice case, he'd be better off leaving it behind. He felt energized for the first time in months. It felt like the first day of a new life.
With the suitcase in the trunk and his briefcase on the passenger seat beside him, Jeffrey drove out of the garage, beeped the door shut, and was on his way. He didn't look back. The first stop was the bank, and as he got closer, he began to get anxious. His new life was starting out in a unique fashion: he was deliberately planning to break the law by defying the court. He wondered if he would get away with it.
By the time he pulled into the bank's parking lot, he was very nervous. His mouth had gone dry. What if Dudley had called the police about his requesting the bail money in cash? It wouldn't take the intelligence of a rocket scientist to figure that Jeffrey might be planning on doing something else with the money rather than turn it over to the bail bondsman.
After sitting in his parked car for a moment to summon his courage, Jeffrey grabbed his briefcase and forced himself into the bank. In some respects he felt like a bank robber, even though the money he was seeking technically belonged to him. Taking a deep breath to steady himself, he went to the service desk and asked for Dudley.
Dudley came to meet him with smiles and small talk. He led Jeffrey back to his office and motioned to a chair. To judge by his demeanor, he didn't hold Jeffrey suspect. But Jeffrey's anxiety stayed razor sharp. He was trembling.
"Some coffee or a soft drink?" Dudley offered. Jeffrey decided he'd be better off without caffeine. He told Dudley some juice would be fine. He thought it best to give his hands something
to do. Dudley smiled and said, "Sure thing." The man was being so cordial,
Jeffrey was afraid it was a trap.
"I'll be right back with the cash," Dudley said after handing Jeffrey a glass of orange juice. He returned in a few minutes carrying a soiled canvas money bag. He dumped the contents onto his desk. There were nine packets of hundred-dollar bills, each containing fifty bills. Jeffrey had never seen so much money in one place. He felt increasingly uneasy.
"It took us a little doing to get this together so quickly," Dudley told him.
"I appreciate your effort," Jeffrey said.
"I suppose you'll want to count it," Dudley said, but Jeffrey declined.
Dudley had Jeffrey sign a receipt for the cash. "Are you sure you don't want a cashier's check?" Dudley asked as he took the signed paper from
Jeffrey. "It's not safe carrying this kind of cash around. You could call your bail bondsman and have him pick it up here. And you know, a cashier's check is as good as cash. He could then go into one of our Boston offices and get cash if that's what he's after. It would make it safer for you."
"He said cash, so I'm giving him cash," Jeffrey said. He was actually touched by Dudley's concern. "His office isn't far," he explained.
"And you're sure you don't want to count it?"
Jeffrey's tension was beginning to evoke irritation, but he forced a smile.
"No time. I was supposed to have this money in town before noon. I'm already late. Besides, I've been doing business long enougk with you." He packed the money into his briefcase and stood up.