The Millionaires - Brad Meltzer [23]
“So there I am, a few years out of Brooklyn College, in our Miami office in Florida. Anyway, on the drive from Miami to Melbourne, there was this wide-open stretch of unlit highway. Drug-runners would land their planes there, dump duffel bags full of money and drugs, and then have their partners pick it up and drive it down to Miami.
“Night after night, I’d fantasize about finding these guys—and every time, the dream was the same: In the sky, I’d see the red lights of a fleeing plane. Instinctively, I’d cut my own lights, slow the car, and stumble upon an army green duffel bag full of ten million dollars in cash.” Turning back to us, Shep adds, “If it ever happened, I’d throw the bag in my trunk, leave my badge behind, and just keep on driving.
“Of course, the only problem was, I never found the plane. And after missing four consecutive promotions and barely surviving on government pay, I realized that I don’t want to work until the day they put me in the ground. I saw what it did to my dad… forty years for a handshake and a fake gold plaque. There’s got to be more to life than that. And with Duckworth… a dead man with three million dollars… it may not be as much as the clients here have, but I’ll tell you… for guys like us… it’s as good as we’re gonna get.”
Charlie nods his head ever so slightly. The way Shep talks about his dad… there’re some things you can’t make up. “So how do we know you won’t play Take the Money and Run?” I ask.
“What if I let you pick where the transfers go? You can start over from scratch… put it in whatever fake company you want. I mean… with your mom here… you’re not going on the run for two million dollars—that’s the only guarantee I need,” Shep says, ignoring Charlie and watching my reaction. He knows who he has to work on.
“And you really think it’ll work?” I ask.
“Oliver, I’ve been watching this one for almost a year,” Shep says, his voice picking up speed. “In life, there’re only two perfect—and I mean perfect—crimes where you can’t be caught: One is where you’re killed, which isn’t too great an option. And the other is when no one knows that a crime took place.” Swinging his sausage-shaped forearm through the air, he motions to the paperwork on my desk. “That’s what’s here on a silver platter. That’s the beauty of it, Oliver,” he says as he lowers his voice. “No one’ll ever know. Whether the three million goes to Duckworth or to the government, it was always leaving the bank. And since it’s supposed to be gone, we don’t have to go on the run or give up our lives. All we do is say thank you to the forgetful dead millionaire.” Pausing to drive it home, he adds, “People wait their whole lives and never get an opportunity this good. It’s even better than the plane and the duffel bag—the bank spent the last six months trying to contact his family—no one’s there. No one knows. No one but us.”
It’s a good point. Actually, it’s a great point… and the best insurance that Shep’ll stay quiet. If he toots his horn to anyone, he risks his own share too.
“So whattya say, Oliver?” he adds.
The Art Deco clock on my wall was last year’s holiday gift from Lapidus. I stare up at it, studying the minute hand. Two and a half hours to go. After that, the opportunity’s gone. The money’ll be transferred to the state. And all I’ll be left with is a clock, a handshake, and eighty thousand dollars’ worth of hospital bills.
“It’s okay to want something more,” Charlie says. “Think of what we can do for mom… all the debt.”
Back in my seat, I take a deep breath and spread my palms flat on my desk. “You know we’re gonna regret this,” I say.
They both break into smiles. Two kids.
“We have a deal?” Shep asks, extending a hand.
I shake Shep’s hand and watch my brother. “So what do