The FBI, the Banker, and the Police Chief.

Henry Schultz was the owner of the bank, a small-town bank which had been owned by the Schultz family and had been handed down to the eldest heir to manage it. The profits were divided among the heirs. Since the bank was small, it didn't earn very much profit after Henry had taken his salary out. The salary he received was one that he considered reasonable. The other siblings believed that he was a greedy son of a bitch. However, the trust gave Henry free rein to do almost whatever he liked. He wanted to live well, and in fact he did live very well. He also wouldn't allow his siblings to borrow from the trust, not because he wasn't able to, but because he didn't like them. He didn't like them because they complained about their share of the money. Henry could give himself a big pay rise and then they would get nothing. He thought it was only fair to leave a little for them. A visit to a cheap resort was a quite reasonable amount to provide. He did the work and was by no means a Cammie liberal, for there was no point in spoiling his siblings.

Then he was robbed. Someone wanted some of his money. Actually, someone wanted all of his money. He called the Chief, who told him he’d be around later. He thought Henry had been drinking. Who would rob a small town bank? Henry would rob his clients, silly, though Robbery? The chief hoped it was spray paint. He didn’t like Henry.

The Chief went down to the bank to talk to Janice Schultz about the robbery. She was usually pretty observant. She liked to observe anything that was going on. Small town, small doings. She loved to gossip, and a bank teller knows all that’s going on in town. A teller doesn’t know as much as a hairdresser, but knows more secret things. A withdrawal of a certain amount each week has to be for either a drug or a hooker. The chief looked at Janice in surprise. She didn’t seem to be rattled.

“Janice, I want to ask you a few questions. Now, there are no wrong answers. So, tell me in your own words, okay? Can you give me a description of the robber? Think about it. It’s hard to remember a face after having a gun drawn on you.”

“Well, not exactly describe him by his voice. He sounded like someone  I know. That’s silly, though. I was busy getting all the money into a bag and crying. I was scared of the baseball bat, too. There wasn’t any gun. Who would rob a tiny little bank like this? We don’t have that much money sitting around. I make so little, Uncle Henry could pay me with loose change. He almost does. He would, except for the law.”

While Henry was pissed at that, he couldn’t fire her. She was his niece. He actually liked her more than his brother. Henry thought his brother was a parasite. He wouldn’t loan him money, much less give any more money than he needed to keep him away. He gave Janice the job to get her out of the house. Her he liked. She sang in the church choir; she was the Welcome Wagon Lady; she served on any committee that asked her. She was a prude. He’d give Janice a loan if she asked for one. It was easy to think that, since she would never ask. Henry decided it was a good thing all around. Well, maybe only for Henry. That was good enough.

“Ah, so he was armed? That’s pretty rough for here in Mayberry. I don’t get robbing a small town bank when you come right down to it. It’s pretty risky. How do you suddenly have money to put that bar in the family room if you’re going to a local rob? Rob a bank? Rob a big one. It’s the same odds but bigger take. This doesn’t add up. If you get caught, it’s the same sentence.”

“Well”, Janice told him, he said he was armed. Why would he lie about that? He seemed like a nice boy. He was polite and respectable. Why risk getting hurt if I was wrong? He robbed the bank. Ask Mr. Schultz. I wish I could help you. It wasn’t my money he took. I get paid no matter what.”

The Chief howled at that one. He stopped laughing when he had his two night patrol officers casually drive up and down every street looking for someone with a shady look about them. They both had a shady look about them. They picked up Bernie Pruitt. Bernie was the only one stupid enough to rob a bank and then hang around. He should have laid low for a while. Then again, he was stupid. The Chief went to his house and asked him if he did. Bernie tried his “Who me?” look. All it did was make him look more guilty. He was a chowder-head. He was nice enough but not too much. He did rob the local bank. He was stupid enough to do that. He was stealing his mother’s money. Why would robbing a bank bother him? He didn’t have any, so it didn’t mean anything. Prison was three free meals a day and health benefits. There was the whole girlfriend thing, though.

The Chief told Bernie to sit down. Bernie was sitting down. That puzzled him. The Chief told Bernie to sit down. Bernie was sitting down. That puzzled him. The Chief wanted to confuse him. The Chief looked at him a long time. Bernie was starting to sweat. The Chief was starting to give him the heebie-jeebies.

“Someone held up t

he bank this morning. You know anything about that?” “No. I heard about it but, -wait a minute. Why are you asking me?”

“Bernie, I think you did it. Where would you get money to buy a new TV like that? You work for peanuts when you work at all. Your mama lets you sleep here, and she feeds you. She might wipe your ass, too, for all I know. Now, I think you robbed the bank. It sounds like the idiot thing you’d do.”

“Ain’t I got some rights here, like a lawyer and stuff like that?” Bernie was getting nervous. The Chief was a lot smarter than he was. He knew when he needed help. It was always.

“Yeah, and I have to tell you that you can remain silent. If I get enough from you to get other stuff, then I read you your rights. See how that works? See what I can actually do? I can also put in a good word with the DA. You might get a better sentence because of it,” The Chief told him. He couldn’t deliver on that if he wanted to, and he didn’t want to. The DA would be Federal. They are real bastards to deal with if you aren’t the Mafia. The Chief didn’t know any Fed DA’s. His word would be useless if he asked for a deal. The DA would tell the Chief to mind his own business. The Chief wasn’t going out on a limb for the likes of Bernie Pruitt. “OK, I did it,” Berni

e said. “Alright. See how easy that was? Sign this form saying I read you your rights. It’s just a technicality. Now, don’t be foolish and tell your lawyer about this. You’re going to get some kid fresh out of law school. He don’t know diddly-squat about a real courtroom. You tell him this, you’ll piss the Judge off. He’d have to call a mistrial. He doesn’t like that. They’re a lot of bother. He’ll blame you for telling your lawyer that. You may not get out until you get old and they don’t want to keep taking care of you. That’s a fact. Your lawyer isn’t going to lose any sleep over you.”

The FBI showed up the next morning. They were all wearing the same gray suit. They probably got a discount. They looked like the guys from The Man In The Gray Flannel Suit. The Chief told them he had the suspect locked up. They could take him after filling out the paperwork. They told him they would be the judge of whether whoever he arrested was a suspect or not.’

“He confessed, sort of. At least he didn’t deny it. That guy doesn’t have a very good poker face.”

The Chief knew Bernie robbed the bank. Bernie knew he knew the Chief knew. No sense denying it. If he told the truth, the Chief would put in a good word with the DA. Why he didn’t think that was as stupid as robbing the local bank was not explainable. The FBI agents laughed out loud at the one. They’d have to get it into the “FBI Stupid” answers magazine.” This one might reach page one.

“Ever think he confessed to get some perverted desire, I don’t know, some perverted thing. You’d be surprised at some of the things we hear. This one time-“

“We ain’t here to tell stories. We have a bank robbery to investigate.” This was the Agent-in-Charge. She was an FBI agent through and through. She wasn’t going to give some local yo-yo Leo any credit for the arrest. She was the FBI and the Chief wasn’t. That was all of it right there. It was always the way the FBI took on a case if it was about bank robbery. One of their CI’s would tell them when someone suddenly came into money. They would hang around the raid until the FBI released the apartment. Then the CI would break in and get the money. They knew where to look. They didn’t mind being on both sides of the law. They were CI’s for a reason.

“There is nothing to investigate. Pruit admitted he robbed the bank. He won’t deny it only to give you any of the credit.” The Chief didn’t know the FBI took credit for everything, up to and including interfering with a crime already solved. Who was the public going to believe, the FBI or some local cop?

“Okay, let’s talk to your alleged bank robber. Well, us, not you.”

“Go ahead.”

“What cell is he in?”

“You’re the FBI. You figure it out.”