Nick left the bank twenty minutes later with the money in his pocket. Two hundred and fifty hundred-dollar bills, still in their bank wrappers, withdrawn from Norton’s personal account. Lawn Larson was at his side, shaking her head. “I saw it but I still don’t believe it! He actually gave you money!”
“An overdue fee on a business deal.”
“He’ll probably call the police and say you stole it.”
“Not when he handed it over in front of witnesses.”
“Does he think paying you off will keep me from using the story?”
“He may have gotten that impression,” Nick admitted. “He’s a bad one for jumping to conclusions.”
“Where does Maybee fit in?”
“He can fill you in on what was supposed to be in that vault. Treasure from a lot of wealthy widows who trusted their banker.”
“I can’t believe the president of First City Savings would stoop to defrauding widows.”
“No one could believe it, and that’s how he got away with it. Check out his personal life and you might find he was in financial trouble — maybe using bank assets to secure personal loans. Whatever the case, he probably sold all that stuff the widows left in his private vault. It took a crook like Maybee to think him capable of it.”
“And a crook like you to outwit him?”
“Something like that,” Nick admitted. “But leave me out of your story. I don’t much like publicity.”
He left her there in front of the bank, but all the way home it still bothered him that he’d stolen the ashtray twice for only one fee.