Out of Sight

He said, "Foley made me think of that fella Carl Tillman, the one you were seeing, it turns out the same time he was doing banks. You recall that? I said at the time it was a highly unusual situation, find out a U.S. marshal's fucking a bank robber." He smiled, just a little.

"See, then you let this guy Foley get away, I couldn't help but wonder, you know?"

"What?"

"If bank robbers turn you on."

"You're serious."

"Maybe. I'm not sure I am or not."

"When I was seeing Carl Tillman, I didn't know he robbed banks."

"Yeah, but I had enough reason to believe he did, and I told you. So you had to at least suspect him."

Karen said, "And what happened to Carl?"

Burdon smiled again.

"The time came, you shot him. But you didn't shoot Foley or the guy with him. They're unarmed, you had a shotgun and you let them throw you in the trunk.

Okay, now you got your Sig in your hand. You say in the report you couldn't turn around, he had you pinned down. But when the trunk opened, how come you didn't cap the two guys then?"

Karen said, "Is that what you would've done?"

"You say in the report Glenn didn't have a gun, but you let him get away."

Karen said, "Daniel, you're not carrying, are you?"

He hesitated.

"How do you know that?"

"What do you work on most of the time, fraud? You go after crooked bookkeepers?"

"Karen, I've been with the Bureau fifteen years, on all lands of investigations."

"Have you ever shot a man? How many times have you been primary through the door?"

"I have to qualify, is that it?"

"You have to know what you're talking about."

She watched him shrug and start to turn away, smoothing the front of his gray double-breasted suit. He paused and said, "We'll talk another time, Karen. All right? I'd like to know why Foley put you in that second car when he didn't need you anymore."

"You'll have to ask him," Karen said.

"Sounds to me he liked having you around. I'll see you, Karen." Burdon turned and walked out.

A few moments later her dad came in as Milt Dancey was saying, "The white man's Burdon. That's what we call him in Miami."

Her dad said, "That's what everybody calls him in Miami, Miami Beach, the Metro-Dade guys. He's got a knack for pissing people off."

"Yeah, but he's got style," Karen said.

"You notice that suit he had on?"

"That combination," her dad said, "it reminded me of the way Fred Astaire used to dress, the shirt and tie the same shade. There was a guy with style, Fred Astaire." He said, "How you feeling? You hungry, you want something to eat?

How about a beer? I can go out and get some."

"Tomorrow," Karen said.

"I'm not supposed to do anything for at least a week. I was wondering, how about if I stay with you a few days? We'd finally have time to talk."

"About what?" Her dad cocked his head looking at her.

"These guys you let get away? You want to use me, don't you?

Get me to work for nothing."

"You're my dad."

"So?"

Foley held in his hand a credit application brochure that said on the cover in bold letters:

LOOKING FOR MONEY? YOU'VE COME TO THE RIGHT PLACE.

There were headings inside the piece that mentioned auto loans, home loans, lifestyle loans, but nothing about getting out-of-town loans.

Foley folded the brochure and put it in his pocket. Now he continued to study the bank layout, standing at the glass top counter in the middle of the floor, where the forms were kept. There were tellers at three of the five windows, cameras mounted high on the wall behind them, no security guard in sight, a customer leaving and one coming in, a guy in a suit with an attache case. Foley watched him move through the gate into the fenced-off business area at the front of the bank, where one of the executives rose from his desk, shook the guy's hand and they both sat down. As the guy began opening his case, Foley, wearing a brand-new Marlins baseball cap and sunglasses, crossed to the teller window where a nameplate on the counter said this young woman with a pile of dark hair smiling at him was Loretta.

She said, "How can I help you, sir?"

Foley said, "Loretta, you see that guy talking to your manager, has his case open?"

She said, "That's Mr. Guindon, one of our assistant managers.

Our manager is Mr. Schoen, but he's not in today."

"But you see the guy," Foley said, "with the attache case?", Loretta looked over.

"Yes?"

"That's my partner. He has a gun in there. And if you don't do exactly what I tell you, or you give me any kind of a problem, I'll look over at my partner and he'll shoot your Mr. Guindon between the eyes. Now take one of those big envelopes and put as many hundreds, fifties and twenties as you can pack into it.

Nothing with bank straps or rubber bands, I don't want any dye packs, I don't want any bait money. Start with the second drawer and then the one over there, under the computer. Come on, Loretta, let's go. Don't be nervous, the key's right there next to you. No bills off the bottom of the drawer. That's the way, you're doing fine. The twenties go in if there's room. Smile, so you won't look like you're being held up.