“What if somebody calls the waitress to verify the alibi, and she remembers you eating alone?”
“She won’t remember any particular day. And since we have the receipt showing us eating there, she’ll conform her memory to the receipt. Also, the day before, you and I will go for lunch, but we’ll order what looks like only one meal on the receipt. That way, we can show her that her memory is off by one day. If she still refuses to change her mind, we can use the two receipts to impeach her testimony.”
“That would play well with a jury,” Beckett conceded.
Beckett often marveled at Corbin’s grasp of criminal law and his understanding of the art of jury persuasion. Although his practical experience was limited to working for his uncle’s practice during the summers and one year clerking for a District of Columbia judge, Corbin possessed an impressive theoretical knowledge of both law and psychology. Beckett, by comparison, honed his knowledge of the nuts and bolts of criminal procedure through years of actual trial experience, but he lacked the depth of Corbin’s raw knowledge, and he could never match Corbin’s creativity or his writing skill. Together, Beckett often mused, they would have made a formidable legal team. Sadly, their current job was entirely administrative.
Corbin continued: “The minute I’m done at Fiddeja’s, I’ll race down the street and order a meal at a different restaurant using my friend’s card. That gives him proof he was in D.C. as well. I then return to the office and use your phone card to call your house in the afternoon. That’ll create a phone record of you calling from here. When you come back, we make a very obvious tour around the office to reinforce the idea that you were here all day. All in all, that gives us computer proof, credit card receipt proof, phone card proof and eyewitness proof that each of us was in Washington the entire day. If we were here, we couldn’t have been up north.”
“That would be one heck of an alibi to break,” Beckett agreed, scratching his chin as he spoke. “Still, why can’t I arrange the alibi and you go north?”
“Because, of the three of us, I’m the only one who can vouch for the other two. You can’t provide an alibi for my friend and he can’t provide one for you, because you two don’t know each other. I, on the other hand, can provide an alibi for both of you.”
“What if the prosecutor decides you’re part of the plan?”
“How? I’ll have overwhelming proof I was here all day. It’ll sound like desperation to the jury if they try to link me to the crime. And if they can’t break my alibi, they can’t break your alibi.”
“Unless they grab us the first day?”
“But that’s the beauty of this: no one’s looking for you on the first day. When you guys do this, no one will have any idea yet that a crime is being committed.”
Beckett nodded.
“And if they can’t grab you the first day, they’ll never be able to link the two of you. You don’t work together. You didn’t go to the same schools. You don’t even live in the same state. After this, you’ll never see each other again. The only connection between you two is me, and I’m not giving that connection up. I’m a dead end for the cops, and as long as I’m a dead end, you two have perfect alibis. It’s like a reverse catch 22.”
Corbin waited patiently as Beckett contemplated Corbin’s plan. “This might work,” Beckett finally said. “Will your friend do it? He’s taking the most risk.”
“He’s ready.”
“Well, don’t ever tell him my name!” Beckett exclaimed, pointing at Corbin for emphasis. “I’m serious about this. I don’t want to know his name, and he never gets to know mine!”
“Agreed.”
Beckett looked out the window. “You said we’re only taking some of the money?”
“That’s to keep anyone from investigating. Credit card companies don’t realize right away they’ve been taken. They typically give you thirty days to pay a bill and another thirty before their collection people start calling. If you pay anything, not even the minimum, just anything, they start the clock all over again. Do you see where I’m headed?”
“I think so.”
“One month after we deposit the checks, I’ll send the minimum payment to each card. I’ll also send change of address letters for somewhere across the country, like Texas. Then I wait sixty days and send another payment. That buys us at least 180 days before they start looking, and hopefully when they do start looking, they’ll look in the wrong state.”
Beckett cracked his first smile. “Nice. We get 180 days for memories to fade and videotapes to be erased. When I was a public defender, the Chief of Detectives once told me that crimes that aren’t solved within a few days are never solved.”
“So I understand. What’s more, they won’t even know if this was a crime. If we make two payments before we stop, this’ll appear to be a bad debt, not fraud. I doubt they can even get the cops to look into it once they admit the accounts had positive payment histories.”
“You devious bastard,” Beckett chuckled. “Wait a minute. What if the real people pull their credit and see these accounts? Won’t they call the cops?”
“Actually, there was something interesting about that on TV recently.”
“TV is real life?”
“This was the news, that’s close enough. It turns out the big problem identity theft victims have is the cops don’t consider them victims because they’re only liable for the first $50. So unless the credit card company reports it, the cops won’t even look into it. But credit card companies don’t like reporting this because of the accounting consequences of reporting fraud.”
“So they might just want it to go away,” Beckett added.
“Also, keep in mind, by the time this hits people’s credit reports, no one can find us anymore. After we withdraw the money, we never go back to the banks or the mailboxes. Thus, they can’t just stake out a bank to catch us. They actually need to trace this to our doors, and that’s impossible.”
“What about the documents your buddy gives the banks? They’ll have his photo on file.”
“Yeah, but he’s non-descript. He can pass as either Hispanic or Asian or possibly even Italian. Also, I’m going to digitally manipulate his photo to alter key structural features. Anyone using that photo to identify him will never be able to pick him out of a line up. By the same token, if we somehow end up in court, we can use that same photo to show they have the wrong guy.”
“So, you made fake IDs in a past life?”
“Among other things.” Corbin smiled.
Beckett sighed and nodded his head. He strummed his fingers on his desk. “It’s workable, but let’s talk about this friend of yours. . can we give him a name?”
“What do you suggest?”
“I don’t care. How about ‘Joe Nobody’?”
“Overly dramatic, but fine.”
“Is he any good under pressure?”
“Yes.”
“How do you know?” Beckett asked.
“I know.”
“Does he have a criminal record?”
“No record, and he’s never been fingerprinted.”
“So he’s not a lawyer?” Beckett reasoned, knowing that lawyers get fingerprinted as part of their bar applications; Corbin didn’t confirm Beckett’s supposition. “Can he keep his mouth shut?”
“Yes,” Corbin said.
“How do you know?”
“Same reason I know he’s good under pressure.”
“Extreme pressure changes people. Have you seen him under extreme pressure or just normal pressure?”
“I can vouch for him.” It was clear Corbin wouldn’t divulge further details.
Beckett didn’t speak for a several seconds. When he did, his enthusiasm was plain: “I say we pick Philly, it’s closer! That gives us more time to do this and get back. I do think though, we should limit the number of cards we apply for at each mailbox. The last thing we need is some suspicious mail clerk calling the cops.”