"He didn't tell me, George. We found out on our own."
"Oh, then you must be the one who told Volont," he said, lamely.
"Well, I thought so… You know, George, I've been thinking about all this. You guys are really throwing a lot of resources at this. I mean, really. Surveillance for God knows how long. TAC team. It's a lot like last time. Only more, you know?"
George smiled. "Just consider it part of the Peace Dividend."
I thought that was a strange thing for George to say.
"I've been led to believe that this was sort of a vengeance thing between Gabriel and Volont," I said, slowly. I looked at my empty coffee cup. "I've been buying into a cover story, haven't I?"
Silence.
"Not blaming you, George. You bought it at first, too. But something's different, and I think it's that you know a lot more than you're being allowed to say. Now."
He smiled, ruefully. "I couldn't tell you even if I did. Could I?"
I spoke very quietly. "The whole damned Bureau has just been relentless with this Gabriel dude. Obviously for several years, going back to before I ever knew about him. And still. Still at war with him." I pushed my cup away, and my chair back "It's no vendetta, where he screwed Volont, and Volont is just screwing back. Is it?"
Before he could answer, I grinned and said, "Don't tell me, you'd only have to kill yourself." I was sort of kidding. He surprised me, though. He gave me an answer.
"No. It's much more than that. Volont really doesn't give a damn about Gabriel, at all. He just knows him fairly well." He shrugged. "If it helps, I only found that out a few months ago, myself."
We were interrupted by Sally, who knocked on the door frame and announced we had a guest.
The FBI TAC team leader was top-notch. Higher, in fact. Excellent individual, very precise, and completely without pretense.
"This could get to be a real zoo," he said. "We really don't have a lot of good data, do we?" Smart, too.
He knew damned well that I hadn't called him in. I couldn't. Neither could George. That being the case, he didn't have to worry about hurting our feelings.
"Not a lot." I handed him a cup of coffee, and our file on the banks, the schedules for deposits, and the plans of each building. "I do think the Frieberg bank is the main hit, though."
He looked at the possible-banks sheet. "I agree." He looked up, sharply. "You guys just found out about the cash on hand yesterday?"
We told him how that had happened. He grinned. "Always the last to know."
We went over again the list of other possible banks. We hit upon a compromise. FBI TAC would take on the Frieberg bank, while the Iowa State Patrol TAC team would put two men on each of six little banks, in plain clothes. A tactical reserve of eight FBI TAC officers would be at the Maitland Airport with a helicopter, ready to respond to whichever area seemed to need them.
I just love resources.
As a gesture to goodwill between departments, our county officers would be assigned as roving patrol near each of the banks. Iowa State Patrol units would be assigned to each area as well, with the majority being around Frieberg.
Each local police department in a town with a "targeted bank" would be notified, and would have an officer on duty, but not obviously around the bank.
I held my hands up off the table, palms toward the TAC man. "That might be a problem…"
"Oh?"
"Uh, well, you see, of the six 'possibles,' only two are in towns with police departments."
The TAC man seemed somewhat taken aback. "Just how big are these towns, anyway?"
I pointed to them on the map, and told him the population of each town as I did so. "Three hundred, two fifty, four fifty, two hundred, eighteen hundred, and twenty-six hundred." The last two were Maitland, the county seat; and Frieberg. "Maitland and Frieberg have local departments."
"Gonna be difficult for the surveillance teams not to stand out," he said.
"Let me tell you," said George. "Rush hour consists of three or four cars…"
The TAC commander gave me a quizzical look. "In such small places… how much money do you think they'll get?"
"Twenty-nine ninety-five," I said. "Hey, don't ask. Reliable informant says, 'five banks.' Volont says, 'five banks.' All in the same area. We figure that'd be here."
"Same area… same time?"
"Yep. That's what they said."
"Well, then, that's what we prep for." He grinned. "Good exercise. We can get inconspicuous here, we can hide just about anyplace."
"If you can hide in these little towns," said George, "you can hide on a gym floor." He looked kind of sheepish all of a sudden. "Nothing personal, Carl."
"You never can tell about these little places," said the TAC commander. "They'll surprise you."
As our plans developed, it became painfully apparent that "Sunday" was a period twenty-four hours long. We had no idea when on Sunday they were going to hit. If they hit at all, of course. Consequently, it was decided that we'd be up and running for the full twenty-four hours. Lovely. I thought I'd probably go home for supper, get a nap in, and be back out around ten or so. It looked to be a long time before we got much sleep.
It was almost time for dinner when the intrepid Nancy called.
"Not on the phone. How about dinner? Just you, me, and Shamrock. It's pretty good stuff."
Where do you meet for dinner in a small town with two restaurants that were bound to be filled with either cops or press? Not the office. I couldn't afford to have them see any of the prep people who were beginning to arrive. Too cold for a picnic. Which left one place. "Can you pick me up a fish sandwich? Bring it to my house… You know where I live, don't you?"
She did. I called Sue, and told her that I had to have company for dinner. She thought that was nice, and suggested I get home a few minutes ahead of our company, and tidy up my breakfast dishes. She was going out with a friend, anyway. I told her that I'd have to go back out about ten. She wasn't too enthused about that, and reminded me about the dishes again.
"Can you please get home before your company comes? I left some homework on the dining room table… if you could move it to my desk… and there's some really good rice in the freezer, if you need it."
"Thanks. Do we have any potato chips or anything?"
"Some in the cupboard on the right. Use the good green dishes. Not the good china, but the good but not everyday things." She thought for a second. "And the good glasses. Those other ones are just too old."
"Okay."
"Don't eat too much. See you, Batman."
By the time Nancy and Shamrock hit the house, I had cleared the table, set it, put a couple of condiments out, started a pot of coffee, and had remembered paper napkins. I was rather proud of myself.
"Jeez," said Nancy. "You expecting company?"
We unwrapped the sandwiches, poured caffeine-free diet pop all around, and sat down to eat. I took a couple of bites, and then asked the question.
"So, what you got this time?"
Nancy took a drink of pop, and put her glass down. "You know anything about a bank robbery going to go down in Nation County on Sunday?"
I thought I carried it off rather well. "Sure. You too, eh?"
"You serious?" she asked. "You do know about that?"
"Sure." I took a drink of my pop. "Can I ask you a question?"
"Shoot."
"Just how in the hell do you find this shit out?"
She grinned happily. So did Shamrock. Nancy pointed at the blue-eyed little elf with the camera. "My girl Friday, here. You gotta give it to her, Carl. She's good."
According to the two of them, they were in one of the local bars on Wednesday night. Relaxing. One of the local denizens hit on Shamrock. Gently, to be sure. But a hit, nonetheless. Being bored, she played him for a while, with Nancy right at the table.