Covered on that one.
Lamar was still skeptical of the entire plan. "Don't forget, we want him for murder. Two counts, at least. Maybe more if we reopen an old case. What's wrong with, we see him, we grab him?" He addressed Volont directly. "Is it good if we let him commit a bank job, too?"
"No, it isn't. Not at all. But," said Volont, "it is important that we be sure we have him. If we go to take down a suspect in a car, based on a glimpse of somebody, we might get the wrong man. We might tip off the right man. We can be sure," he said, emphatically, "that he'll be with the bank team. I have good information on that. Very good."
"Wait a minute," said Lamar. "You keep pullin' this information out of your hat every time you need it, and we're supposed to buy it." He looked around the room. "Doesn't it seem that way to you all?"
Before any of us could answer, Volont spoke rapidly. "My rules keep me from telling you certain things until you demonstrate a 'need to know.' When you ask the question, I can sometimes give an answer under those rules."
Lamar sighed, and stood up. "I gotta get back to the office." And he walked out. Just like that.
Well. There was a pretty thick silence after he left. I broke it with "Looks like you better be right on this one." I could say that. I'd been shot the last time Volont had made a mistake. In the vest, admittedly. What the hell, it's the thought that counts.
"Confidence," he said, blandly, "is high." I thought of what Hester had said about a psychic. I caught her eye and grinned at her, but she was too worried to catch it.
We made tentative assignments, and the call went out to begin gathering reinforcements. I headed back to Maitland. Tomorrow was Sunday. Sunday was Bank Day. Time was getting short.
22
Volont stuck his head in the door. "TAC team commander will meet with you out here in a few minutes. He just landed." He was gone as quickly as he'd appeared.
George had hardly had time to "pop to." "We gotta plan, I guess."
"Yeah." I rummaged through the box, looking for another doughnut with little sprinkles on it. "I think this is as close as Volont ever gets to orgasm."
George started to laugh, caught it, but still had a dribble of coffee on his chin. "Don't say those things!"
"Oh, yeah, before I forget… Remember Nola Stritch?"
He sure did.
"Well, Cletus Borglan's hired man and his family? The Grossmans?" He nodded. "Turns out that she's Nola's sister. Half sister, anyway. Neat, no?"
"Well," he said, "I'm glad Volont finally told you."
"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.