Ockham's Razor: A Deductive Riddle

Chapter 27

Ian arrived at the hotel fifteen minutes prior to the time written on the note. Unlike the other times, he was not hesitant to go directly to room 468. He figured that if the Benefactor wanted to have the Bulldog and Smooshface get him, he would have arranged it to occur at his apartment, or any other place other than here. He walked in the front hotel entrance and scanned the room. He was not afraid, but he wanted to see if he could identify any of the others that had taken part in this heist. A scan of the busy lobby showed no one else, so he walked over to the hotel lounge and got a drink. Even though he thought there was no reason for the Bulldog or Smooshface to snap him up here, he wanted the drink to help calm his nerves.

He truly did not know what was in store, but Ockham's Razor gave him two options. First option was that the Benefactor had another job lined up, another requirement for Ian to use his getaway skills, and that a planning session was on. Second option was that the Benefactor wanted to close off the last job with the payment he was due to pay out. Simplest option is the payout. And that was what Ian was expecting.

After finishing off his drink in the lounge, he walked directly to the elevator. He pressed the button for the fourth floor. He felt a sense of closure that came with facing the final chapter in this undesired episode of his life. The elevator door opened and he headed straight down the hall to the room. Once there, he knocked. He heard nothing. He was right on time.

The door opened quickly, startling Ian. Inside stood the tall guy named Moussa. Silently, but courteously, Moussa stepped aside and Ian entered. As had already been established, despite being on time, he was the last of the six to arrive. He smiled at Lauren, who did not smile back. Looking around, he could see that no one was smiling. He could feel tension in the air, but he had no idea why the others were tense. He settled into the chair by the desk, letting his body fall with a thump. Taking a few deep breaths, he scanned the faces of the others. No one was speaking. He was starting to pick up on their tension, and despite all his self talk, he was; becoming tense himself.

After a few minutes, the phone rang. Everyone jumped. It rang for three rings before anyone moved towards it. Rab picked it up and spoke into the receiver. He then placed it on speaker, and stepped back.

"Good afternoon," spoke the familiar, clear voice of the Benefactor on the other end. "I trust you are all recovered from our activities?"

No one answered. That did not seem to bother the Benefactor. "In a few moments the Courier will arrive. Rab, I want you to deliver the package you took from the bank to her. Is this clear?"

Rab took a second to clear his voice. Ian thought Rab was trying to sound confident despite not feeling it. "Yes, sir" was the short reply.

At that moment, a knock came on the door. Moussa opened the door, but Rab was already on his way to deliver the package. Ian could see that it was nothing really other than a leather documents case about the size of a large envelope. It was hard to believe that this whole operation was for something that small. Ian thought it might be a will, or a deed that was wrapped up in that folder, but he could only speculate. Whatever it was, the Benefactor wanted it badly. By Ian's estimation, it must have cost him about $100 000 to pull this off.

As Moussa stood back to give Rab room to pass the case, Ian tried, once again, to catch a glimpse of the woman who was the Courier. But with Moussa and Rab effectively blocking the view, he was once again disappointed in seeing her. Nevertheless, with whatever reward was coming, he could pay off his debts and then use the rest to see plenty of other women.

Moussa closed the door. He and Rab turned back into the room. The ethereal voice on the other side of the phone line started again. "I am pleased with how things have gone. You have all demonstrated loyalty to me. I shall remain loyal to you. You need not fear me turning on you, unless you turn on me."

Ian looked at the others. What did this mean? How could they turn on someone when they had no idea who it was?

An explanation was not long in coming. "As you can well appreciate, we have engaged in something of questionable legality."

Ian nearly gagged. "Questionable legality?" Was the Benefactor delusional? They held up a bank. That's illegal, for any reason.

The Benefactor continued, "The task you have done was done for the highest moral reasons. However, if you do not understand that secrecy of your time working with me is important, then you are a risk. If you are ever compromised and reveal my existence, I shall do everything in my power to see you destroyed in all but life. However, if I am the one compromised, you can rest assured that I shall not compromise your identities, as I can bear the burden of paying the penalty for doing something that is morally correct."

With that the Benefactor seemed to collect himself, took a breath and continued, "Will someone please look into the closet?"

Ian was the closest, so he opened the door. Inside was a pile of something covered in a blanket. Ian lifted up the blanket, and there was a pile of beer, wine, spirits and liqueurs that was the envy of any bar or nightclub in Great Plains. On top of that were six envelopes with the names of the six of them written on them. Ian suspected that they were filled with the cash that was promised.

"I wish for you to celebrate, on me. This is your one chance to celebrate together. Because, as of tomorrow, I don't want any of you to have any connection to each other. This is for your own safety. While helping me out, you may have offended others. By not associating together, you can minimise any risk, not that any exists right now, but you can minimise any risk of you being bothered in the future. Is this clear?" This made Ian feel a wave of relief. He now knew that there would be no further jobs, no further heists, and as soon as he could forget about this affair, the sooner he could get back to being himself.

Ian was the one to speak up. "Yes sir. As of tomorrow, we will be six unacquaintances living in Great Plains."

"Good," said the Benefactor. "Please don't drink and drive. There are room keys for each of you in the envelopes in the closet. There is also one for the suite on the top floor. If you wish, take your party up there."

Ian, feeling better than he had in over a month, knowing that the end was in sight, replied, "Sir, the party has begun."