Bank Job by Robert L. Fish

Author:Robert L. Fish
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781504012713
Publisher: MysteriousPress.com/Open Road

Friday—3:10 P.M.

Reardon sat in Captain Tower’s office, his legs crossed, his notebook before him.

“We’re having Dun & Bradstreet do a rush job on Mullins,” he said. “He could have all the oranges in the world, and still be cash-poor. And a man doesn’t always tell his brother-in-law the true extent of his finances or how much he gambles or if he’s being blackmailed or a thousand other things. I called the bank at Bartlesville and the president wouldn’t give me the information on the phone. I gave him our number and told him to call me back, but he said any damn fool could pick up a phone and say ‘San Francisco Police Department.’ I told him that’s not how we answer the phone and suggested he get the number through Information if it made him feel better, but he said he wouldn’t give out any information without a warrant being served on him. So I thanked him kindly—”

“And told him you’d never use his bank, not even for a loan,” Captain Tower said dryly.

“More or less,” Reardon said, and smiled faintly. “The man sounded as if he’d just had his throat starched. So I called Orlando and asked to have the sheriff call me as soon as he gets there.”

Captain Tower swiveled his chair and then swung it back. He frowned at Reardon. “Just how important is it, knowing about this Mullin’s financial position?”

Reardon shrugged. He said, “Well, motive is still a big thing, and if Mullins was really well off, then his reasons for getting involved in a bank robbery could be very important. Why did he do it? As his brother-in-law, the sheriff, put it, it just doesn’t make sense.”

“True.” Captain Tower thought a moment. “How far are you in locating those friends he was supposedly hunting with?”

“No place,” Reardon said. “If the sheriff doesn’t come up with the answers, I don’t even know where to start. Arizona’s a big place, even assuming the others hustled back there to set up alibis. But I’ve got a different slant. You remember that replay tape from the bank?”

Tower nodded.

“I thought then,” Reardon said slowly, “and I still think the three men who came into the bank looked as if they were used to working together, and used to taking orders. And the one with the machine gun was used to giving them. I’ve put through an inquiry to the Personnel Division of the Pentagon through their Military Police Section, to try and find out the names of the crew of that gunship Mullin served on. He was a waist-gunner; the pilot is usually the boss of the crew. Then there’s a copilot, plus a second gunner.” He looked at Tower squarely. “That’s four men. Trained to work together and obey the orders of the leader. The pilot. The boss.”

Tower’s face remained expressionless. He said, “That’s true, but let’s look at it fairly. Suppose Mullin played a lot of bridge; that’s also four men. Or doubles in tennis. Or a foursome in golf.

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