destroy the prosecution’s case. Then he would only be looking at prison time for the embezzlement of two million dollars, which, with any reimbursement, carries a slap on the wrist compared to four murders.”
“Assuming that’s true, then what did he shoot the victims with?” the director said.
“A second, unregistered Glock 22,” Kaulcrick answered quickly, as if he had expected the question.
“Do we know if he owns more than one gun?” the director asked.
“I checked his property card, and no, he doesn’t,” Kate said. “Not that he’s told the Bureau about.”
“I don’t know, Don. If he has the money, then why this last murder?” the director asked.
“Sir, if all this was part of a planned defense, another killing would be proof positive that he had nothing to do with the murders. He just boogied with the cash, so the real killers had no choice but to find another victim and make a new demand.”
The director collapsed back into his chair. “Anyone want my job?”
After a few seconds, Kaulcrick said, “I got something from the Chicago office this morning that might take your mind off this for a few minutes. May I?”
Kaulcrick went over to a large television that sat on a corner table of the office and inserted a DVD. “I don’t know if either of you saw this on the national news a couple of weeks ago.”
A reporter came on the screen, microphone in hand, and started describing a hostage situation taking place at a suburban Chicago bank. Suddenly, the camera zoomed in on the bank’s front door. A terrified woman opened it, and a gunman could be seen behind her shielding himself, his weapon pressed against the side of her head. The reporter said, “It looks like one of the gunmen is trying to negotiate some sort of deal.” Just as the robber finished his demands and closed the door, one of the bank’s front windows exploded as a man came crashing through it. He skidded across the sidewalk and lay unconscious.
The cameraman centered the shot on the body lying in front of the bank, and after another fifteen seconds, a second robber exploded through the adjoining window, landing on the concrete walk, dazed and unarmed. Immediately, customers and employees ran out of the front door as the police rushed forward to handcuff the two men. The screen went black.
“What happened?” Lasker asked.
“According to the report, witnesses said a customer, waiting until the two robbers were separated, disarmed them one at a time and then threw each of them through the windows.”
“Who was it?”
“That is the strangest part to the story. No one knows. Whoever it was exited with the other customers and disappeared into the crowd.”
“What?” the director said.
“The police and the media have been putting out pleas for him to call in, but so far nothing.”
“What would make someone walk away from something that extraordinary?”
“I have no idea,” Kaulcrick said. “Want to see how he did it?”
“Chicago sent me the surveillance videos from inside the bank.” Kaulcrick shoved in another DVD. “This composite was put together from three different cameras. It starts with the first gunman being overpowered.” He hit the Play button and it showed the bank lobby with customers scattered facedown on the floor. “See this hand here?” He pointed atthe corner of the screen. “That belongs to our boy. Keep an eye on it.”
“What’s that next to it?” Kate asked.
“A watercooler. Keep an eye on that, too.”
Kaulcrick pressed a button on the remote and the disk slowed to half speed. As the images rolled by, the hand on the floor reached up and took the bottle from the watercooler as its owner pulled himself from the floor. His grainy face came into view. He placed a hand on each end of the bottle, holding it in front of his chest just as the gunman realized he was up off the floor and turned toward him. The robber yelled something, but the man
Frances Gies, Joseph Gies