“No. I think he's probably playing rummy with your uncle Fred.”
“How about Laura Lipinski?”
“Disappeared off the face of the earth. Left home the Thursday before your uncle disappeared.”
Perfect timing to get stuffed into a garbage bag. “Thanks. That's all I wanted. Over and out.”
I pulled into the Grand Union parking lot and drove to the end of the mall where the bank was located. I parked at a safe distance from other cars, exited the BMW, and set the alarm.
“You want me to stay with the car in case someone's riding around with a bomb in his backseat looking for a place to put it?” Lula asked.
“Not necessary. Ranger says the car has sensors.”
“Ranger give you a car with bomb sensors? The head of the CIA don't even have a car with bomb sensors. I hear they give him a stick with a mirror on the end of it.”
“I don't think it's anything space-?age. Sounds to me like they're just motion detectors mounted on the undercarriage.”
“Boy, I'd like to know where he got the motion detectors. This would probably be a good night to rob the governor's mansion.”
I was starting to feel like a regular customer at the bank. I said hello to the guard at the door, and I waved to Leona. I looked for Shempsky, but he wasn't visible, and his office was empty.
“He's out to lunch,” the guard said. “Took it earlier than usual today.”
No problem. Leona was giving me the come here! gesture, anyway.
“I read about you in the paper,” she said. “They said your car was bombed!”
“Yeah. And then a garbage truck fell on it.”
“It was excellent,” Lula said. “It was the shit.”
“Boy, nothing fun ever happens to me,” Leona said. “I've never had a car bombed or anything.”
“But you work at a bank,” I told her. “That's pretty cool. And you have kids. Kids are the best.” Okay, so I fibbed a little about the kids. I didn't want her to feel bad. I mean we can't all be lucky enough to have a hamster.
“We came to see if you had any suspicious characters working here,” Lula said.
Leona looked startled by that. “In the bank?”
“Well, maybe 'suspicious' is the wrong word,” I told her. “Is there anyone here who might have connections with people who might not be totally law-?abiding?”
Leona rolled her eyes. “Almost everybody. Marion Beddle was a Grizolli before she was married. You know about Vito Grizolli? And then Phil Zuck in mortgages lives next door to Sy Bernstein, the lawyer who was just disbarred for illegal practices. The guard has a brother in Rahway, doing time for burglary. You want me to go on?”
“Let's take this from a different direction. Is there anyone here who looks too successful for his job? You know, has too much money? Or is there anyone here who desperately needs money? Anyone who likes to gamble? Anyone doing expensive drugs?”
“Hmm. That's a harder question. Annie Shuman has a sick kid. Some kind of bone disease. Lots of doctor bills. Couple of people who play the numbers. I'm one of them. Rose White likes to go to Atlantic City and play the slots.”
“I don't get what you want to know this for anyway,” Lula said to me.
“We know of three companies with extra accounts in this bank. We think there's a possibility those accounts were opened to hold illegal money. So maybe there's a good reason the accounts were opened here.”
“Like someone here in the bank is involved,” Lula said.
“I see where you're going,” Leona said. “You're suggesting we're laundering money. The money comes into those accounts you asked me about and almost immediately goes out.”
“I don't know if it's exactly laundering,” I said. “Where does the money go?”
“I don't have that information,” Leona said. “You'd need a bank officer for that. And probably they wouldn't tell you. I'm sure that would be confidential. You should talk to Shempsky.”