“What could you have done?” asked Matt.
She looked at him before she answered, giving him a light smile. “You asked me before how she’d gotten into the bank and I told you I didn’t know. But I saw her get out of the passenger side of a car across the street. It was a black car, one of those monster SUVs. After she was inside, it pulled around and waited in front of the entrance to the bank. I noticed it because its windows were all tinted black as pitch. That’s illegal in New York now. You can’t have tinted windows like that anymore. She kept looking back at that car. Three or four times while she was standing in front of me. Not frantic, not like she was afraid. But she just kept checking. But it was very busy that day, and once Angel came to take her in back, I got caught up with other things.”
She sighed lightly, tapped her gold wedding band on the table. “I remembered all that when I saw her picture in the Post. I called corporate and told them that she’d been in our branch that day and closed her accounts. They told me I was right to call and that they’d handle the call to the police. I never heard from the cops until today. But a day or so later, I got a visit from the head of fraud security.”
The waitress came then and all three ordered regular cups of coffee.
“He wanted to make sure that we hadn’t had any indication she wasn’t acting of her own accord. We’re trained to look for that kind of thing. I mentioned her demeanor and the vehicle I’d seen but said that it didn’t seem like she was acting under duress of any kind. And that was true. It was all just a vibe, just a feeling on my part.”
“Then they provided you and Mr. Rodriquez with the things you needed to say to protect the bank from liability, should Lily or her family ever claim that the money was obtained fraudulently and that the bank failed to protect her accounts,” said Jesamyn.
“That’s right,” she answered with a nod.
“When I heard from my manager that the security video and Ms. Samuels’ banking records had been requested by branch security, I was relieved. I figured the bank was working with the police and that the things I’d observed had been passed along. But then I ‘accidentally’ saw the statement the bank had given to the police and it made no mention of the SUV.”
“Accidentally?”
“I accidentally came across it while I was looking to file something away in the branch manager’s cabinet,” she said with a small smile.
“Why didn’t you go to the police?” Matt asked, though he figured he knew the answer.
“I called corporate and asked to speak to the head of branch security.”
“Brian Davis?” asked Jesamyn.
She nodded.
“What did he say?”
“He very gently suggested that the information wasn’t relevant since we were certain that she wasn’t acting under duress. He said some shit about being a team player and how the bank couldn’t afford disloyalty. Let’s just say the message was clear.”
She put her head in her hand for a second and then rubbed at her temples with a long graceful hand. She looked up at them again.
“I’ve been with this bank twenty years; I’m fully vested. I’ve got two sons in college.”
The waitress placed the coffee in front of them, asked if they wanted anything else, and walked off when no one answered.
“I’m sorry,” Thelma said. “I’m so sorry for that girl.”
Jesamyn put a hand on her arm. “We all have to make choices, Ms. Baker. We don’t judge you. Coming forward now is very brave.”
She looked up at them then and nodded. “Thanks,” she said, gently withdrawing her arm. “I appreciate that. But I really hope it’s not too late to help her.”
“We do, too,” said Matt. He didn’t judge Thelma Baker either. It was easy for a person to get squashed by a corporate giant; it happened every day, all over the world. They used people up, controlled them by threatening their livelihood. But he couldn’t quash the rising tide of frustration and anger he felt swelling in his chest. If they’d had this information two weeks ago, where would it have led them?
“I saw part of the license plate,” she said, pulling a pen from her purse and scribbling on a napkin. “My eyes are not great but I think the first three digits were H57. That’s all I know.”
She got up then, quickly, as if she’d woken from a trance and realized she was in a strange place. She looked around her, Matt guessed for other bank employees. She took five dollars and threw it on the table.
“I’m sorry,” she said again as she left.
Jesamyn looked at the napkin in front of her. “A partial license plate and a vehicle description,” she said, almost incredulous, as if someone had just told her she won the lottery. It was literally the first substantial clue they’d found in two weeks. Matt’s excitement was only tempered by the thought that it was probably way too late.
Too little, too late,” said Kepler back at the Ninth. His office reeked of cigarette smoke and hamburgers. There was no smoking allowed anywhere indoors. But that didn’t seem to bother their captain. Everyone knew Kepler smoked with the door closed, leaning out over his windowsill when he was feeling considerate. No one tried to stop him. He was an even bigger bastard when he couldn’t smoke.
“You’re joking,” said Jesamyn. “This is huge.”
She stood at the edge of his faux wood and aluminum desk, as Kepler leaned back in his gray vinyl swivel chair. Mount stood by the door, leaning against the jamb. Kepler looked at Jesamyn and gave her a small nod.
“The fact that you think it’s huge just underscores how little you have. Two weeks ago, it might have been huge.”
Matt and Jesamyn both stared at him. Jesamyn had a brief but vivid fantasy of throwing herself over the desk at his throat. Kepler stood and walked around his desk. There was a ketchup stain on his tie. His gray hair looked as if he’d been running his fingers through it all day. A shadow of stubble darkened his jaw.
“So she got herself messed up on drugs, hooked up with some dealer, and she cashed in her bank account to buy crack,” said Kepler. “In a few weeks, she’ll show up in the system after a crack house sweep. Stranger things have happened.”
“No-” began Matt.
Kepler cut him off. “It doesn’t mean anything, Stenopolis. Except that someone gave her a ride to the bank.”
Mount looked like he was about to have a brain aneurysm; his neck was turning red.
“Okay,” said Jesamyn, trying to diffuse the tension that was rising in the room. “You have to let us run the plate at least.”
“It’s a partial plate and a vague description, which means you’ll get multiple hits. And then who’ll follow up on those?”
“We’ll put it on the back burner,” she bargained.
Kepler took a thick, heavy file from beside him and handed it to her with a sigh. “The way back burner,” he said.
She took the file from him. “Rosario Mendez,” she read.
“Missing woman from the projects on Avenue A. She’s eight months pregnant. Girlfriend, or ex, to hear him tell it, of Jorge Alonzo.”
“Latin Kings,” said Matt, recognizing the name. “He’s one of the big guys.”
“That’s right. The case belongs to Rosa and Wong, but they need all the help they can get. Go see one of them and make yourselves useful.” He nodded toward the file. “Those are some of the statements-family, friends, Kings.”
“How long has she been gone?”
“Three days. The boyfriend has been cleared as a suspect. They’re looking at rival gangs.”
Kepler walked back behind his desk. “That’s it. Why are you still here?”
Back in the cube that contained both of their desks, Matt and Jesamyn sat silent. Jesamyn flipped through the file on Mendez. Matt stared at his laptop screen. He’d plugged in the partial description and plate number and was waiting for a hit. The system was slow for whatever reason and as he waited, Jesamyn saw his eyes drift up to the picture of Lily he kept over his desk. He looked sad; she felt for him.