It was four thirty. He didn’t feel up to heading home and facing Carol or his kids. Would he ever feel up to facing them again? Maybe. Given time the robbery could become an empty memory. Something that might or might not have ever happened. He had other empty memories. People he might’ve once known, but was no longer sure of. Even the first girl he ever had sex with. They were both sixteen at the time and had snuck out on to a golf course one night with a blanket. At some level of his consciousness he knew it had happened, but it also didn’t seem possible. He could barely remember it. He could barely remember the girl. Of course, this was different. But maybe over time this could become like all those other distant, vague memories of his past. Maybe years from now he wouldn’t be able to believe this had ever happened either.
Now, though, he couldn’t stop thinking of that dead girl. Or the other woman. When he was driving to meet Brown, the news over the radio reported the other woman’s status as touch and go. He hoped she wouldn’t die. But how would her life be now, after having a bullet rip through her stomach? Would something like that ever really heal?
Thinking about it made him start perspiring again. Jesus, he was shaky. If anyone saw him they’d probably think he had some sort of neurological problem. He needed something to calm his nerves. A drink would help.
He stopped at the first bar he came across. The bartender gave him a funny look when he tried ordering a Guinness and a shot of Jameson’s.
“Are you okay, buddy?” the bartender asked.
“I’ll be better after you bring me my beer and a shot.”
“You know, I’m not allowed to serve alcohol to someone already intoxicated.”
“I haven’t had a drop yet. Honest. What do you want me to do, recite the alphabet backwards?” Dan proceeded to do just that. The bartender lifted up his hands in a show of surrender. “Okay, okay,” he said. “I believe you.” But as he poured the draft, he raised an eyebrow and gave Dan a doubtful look.
God, he wished he could forget the robbery ever happened. Let Joel keep the money. At this point he didn’t care. He just wanted to distance himself as far from that memory as he could. But he knew that wasn’t possible. Shrini wasn’t going to let that happen. Tomorrow the two of them were going to drive to Joel’s, and he knew Shrini wasn’t going to give up on this until he got his cut. Deep down he also knew Joel wasn’t going to give in. The damn thing had the potential for spiraling even further out of control. Fucking Joel. If he would be reasonable, they could move past this. The robbery could some day become one of those empty memories.
The bartender brought over his drinks. Dan took the shot and then sipped the Guinness, trying not to drink it too fast. The thirty-two grand would buy him some time, maybe enough so he could find a job and end up with long-term disability insurance. The beer was in one of those promotional glasses that breweries give out. He held the glass at arm’s length. In bright light he was still able to make out details, even read text on a computer screen, but here in the dimness of the bar the lettering on the glass was fuzzy and he couldn’t make out what it spelled. He wondered how much time he had before he would be unable to function. A year, maybe less.
Next week sometime he would get back in touch with Brown and report why the software malfunctioned. There was no reason to hide anything. Let them think he was being completely honest and above board. The conclusion would have to be that one of the Indian programmers intentionally put a backdoor into the software. Let them prove otherwise. Dan laughed sourly, thinking about how the papers would pick up on the story. Maybe it would end up scaring the shit out of other financial companies that had farmed out critical software. Maybe even drum up some business for him.
That was an interesting thought. He could do more than just scare the shit out of these companies. With a little bit of luck he could create a panic. First thing, write some articles about what happened to Lynn Capital Bank. Fuck, maybe even propose a book about it, detailing the risks to financial institutions and highlighting the case of this bank.
For the first time in a long while Dan felt excited, his mind racing with ideas. All those banks and brokerage firms were going to go crazy when they heard about what happened to Lynn Capital Bank. They’d all be forced to check any software built offshore for possible hidden backdoors. And Dan could do that checking. He could start a software firm tomorrow focusing on that and drum up business with articles and a book. As the ideas swirled in his head, he felt a dryness in his mouth. He looked up and saw the bartender studying him.
“I got to admit,” the bartender said. “The drinks did you a world of good. When you came in you looked like shit. You’ve got your color back. Buddy, you look like a new man.”
“Amazing the recuperative properties of a Guinness,” Dan said with a wink, his good humor back. “How about another round, both the beer and the shot, see if I can get a bit healthier.”
“No problem.”
Dan watched him pour the draft. Then his gaze drifted towards the television set and to the Red Sox highlights. The Sox had been playing well of late, winning their last seven games. While he was watching the highlights, they were interrupted by a news flash. The sound was off, but he knew right away what the story was about. Up on the screen as bright as day was Gordon’s driver’s license photo. Dan felt a sinking feeling in his stomach when he saw that. He had known Gordon would be identified eventually, but realizing it had already happened brought back his uneasiness.
The bartender brought over his drinks. Dan didn’t even taste them. He could just as well have been drinking water, or mud for that matter. They had no effect on him. All he felt was an almost unbearable uneasiness and the urge to get moving. He stood up and tossed twenty dollars on to the bar.
He knew the quicker he faced Carol the better. If he waited too long he wouldn’t be able to do it. On his way home he decided to play it as straight as possible. Sure enough Carol met him at the door, her face both anxious and excited.
“That was Gordon who was killed,” she told him, her words coming out in a breathless rush. “I knew it was him!”
Dan forced himself to meet her eyes. “I know. I was in a bar and saw it on the news.”
“This is so unbelievable.” Her eyes were wide as they searched his. Dan knew what she was looking for. Some sort of sign that this was a surprise to him too. As strong as the temptation was to look away, he forced himself to maintain eye contact.
“Why would he go to that bank?” she asked.
“I don’t know. He was probably looking for work.”
Her eyes were still searching his, almost desperately. “They weren’t hiring, were they?”
Dan felt himself shaking his head.
“Then why would he go there?”
“God knows. He knew I finished a contract with them. For whatever reason maybe he thought it was worth talking to them. That must’ve been why he called the other day.” He shook his head as he looked away from her. “I have some great news,” he said. “This kind of spoils it, though. The bank hired me to examine the software they got from those Indian contractors.
They want me to try to figure out why it didn’t work. Guess how much they’re paying me?”
Carol shook her head.
“Thirty-two thousand dollars. I had them pay me up front. The money is already in our account.”