In The Company of Deceit

Chapter 18 - Kinds of Regret

High Hat sat in his chair, stunned, as he listened to his man on the phone asking for bail money. Boots had used his call to reach High Hat by name on his private number, and now the Salt Lake police were showing a marked interest in the two prisoners.

"You asked them to call me for bail money! You gave them my name and number!"

"We didn't have any money of our own, boss."

"You silly, dumbass, useful for nuthin' nigga, you told them my name and gave them my number!"

"You mad, boss?"

"MAD! Am I mad? If you ever get out of jail up there don't even dream of coming back to Los Angeles, or even to California 'cause I will have your skinny asses stripped and used for floor mats." He hurled the phone at the wall and smashed the case to pieces.

The office door opened and a large shaved head peered around the edge.

"You okay in here, boss?"

"No I'm not okay, Mookie, I'm freakin' furious. Get in here."

"What'd I do?"

"Nuthin', just get in here and shut that door."

High Hat related the actions of his two ex employees, all the time bending paper clips and shredding bits of paper he found on his desk.

"You are going to Salt Lake and you will find Mickey Wireton and you will drag his ass back here along with all my money."

"How will I find him, boss?" High Hat stared at his man. Were they all this stupid?

"Take a plane to Salt Lake and just start looking." He said with the last of his strained patience. I'll never see my money again... was his fading thought.

Ralph sat in the back of the taxi soaking wet, his head spinning through all the surprising news he'd just learned, and the call from Braddock added to the pain. This Mickey Wireton character had iced Edwin and taken off with all the money... sixty-seven grand. He left his aunt five hundred, took her car and told her to keep her mouth shut. Selfish prick.

He knew there must have been at least two people involved in the heist, and now he knew that Edwin's share was only around fifteen percent of the total amount stolen; how the hell was he supposed to find whoever had the rest?

"I'm looking for a twenty-twelve Mercedes, maroon with this plate number." He handed the driver a slip of paper. Get on to your dispatcher and tell her to send the info out to all the cabs."

"They won't do that. Private citizens can't just use the cab company's facilities for personal use."

The appearance of another hundred had the driver keying his microphone and relaying the request to his dispatcher.

"Tell him there's another one of those for him if he gets it done fast."

"It's a her."

Ralph, ground his teeth. "You wanna keep the ones I gave you or do you wanna keep correcting me?"

The dispatcher began an immediate announcement of the plate number and description over the radio.

The rain pounded own on the windshield as they sat listening to the annoying squawk of the cab's radio. The windows were all fogged up and the air in the cab was humid, adding to the cloying odour of the mint air freshener that barely worked against the underlying smell of cigarettes and damp upholstery.

"Harry, you read? Your Mercedes was spotted just south of the hospital about ten minutes ago heading south. When do I get my hundred?"

"Go! Go now." Ralph shouted.

******

Belinda sat patiently in the waiting room, her luggage snugly against her leg. The doctor had told her Muriel was going into surgery and that she would be needed to fill out the necessary consent forms. She checked her watch and sighed. The police wanted to have her statement formally recorded and the bus company insurance representative desperately wanted to speak to her.

She smirked to herself; I bet he does. She patted the luggage piece and sniffed. He doesn't know how lucky he is. It would be another annoying wait for the administration staff to get their act in order, and she leaned back on the plastic seat and closed her eyes.

For two years Muriel and she had visited the same casino in Las Vegas, did their petty gambling and spent considerable time cultivating a relationship with Edwin Del Darrigo, a trusted accountant in the casino's money room. After long, discrete meetings and lunches together, along with the promise of uncompromised success, Edwin had considered his lot and decided that this would solve the misery of his nagging, unfaithful wife and the mounting debts for the lifestyle she demanded; solve it for him that was... not her.

The two women seemed surprisingly adept at strategizing, and they exuded a confidence he couldn't resist. He agreed, and the plan was set in motion. It had proven to be almost too easy. Three separate trips over a period of a few hours to the men's room near the money cage and Edwin had managed to shift half a million dollars from the money room to the maintenance storage cupboard under the sinks.

On his last trip he removed his agreed upon share, placed it in his old briefcase and left, never looking back. Their plan was never to meet again after the robbery, they were to just go their separate ways. He knew he could have taken more, who could say anything, but Edwin thought himself an honourable man... at least he used to be.

The cleaning cart entered the room immediately after him and Belinda, in a purchased uniform, close enough to match those of the casino, loaded the balance from the cupboard under the sinks into the cart and pushed it back out and down the passageway just out of sight of the cameras, where Muriel helped her switch it to their pull along luggage piece.

The uniform and the cart were left there and mother and daughter strolled blithely from the casino to the street, catching a local bus to the depot. Finding Edwin as a passenger in the same vehicle was a stunning shock none of them expected but rather than cause a fuss both parties pointedly ignored one another; as uncomfortable as it was, there was really nothing to connect them.

Her eye jerked open at the sound of her name over the speaker system summoning her to the director's office. Luggage gliding smoothly behind her, Belinda found the office, entered and spent several polite and compassionate minutes listening to the director as she completed the necessary forms.

"I want to assure you, Mrs. Ashbury-Stark, that our people are among the best in this field, and they will be doing everything to see that your daughter receives all that she can possibly need in recovering."

"I appreciate that. Thank you, Mr. Dunn." She rose to leave, and he scurried to the door to see her out. "I imagine there isn't much use in my staying here so I'll─"

"Mrs. Ashbury-Stark you just go and rest. Take your mind off of the worry and let us do our job. We'll be in touch the minute we have any news whatsoever." She tipped her head in thanks and left with a wan smile.

Such bravery, Dunn remarked to himself.

At police headquarters, Belinda repeated her statement and signed more forms, all the while listening to the wheedling and whinging of the insurance representative as he painted the bus company's record in glittering bold strokes and censuring the driver with all the indignant force he could muster. Belinda nearly laughed aloud at the absence of support the poor man received from his employers; the driver was being hurled under his own bus.

Interview over, Belinda listened to more of the same about her daughter, thanked the police for their consideration and allowed them to deliver her back to the hotel.