Rantings of an Arranged Mind

I peeked my head through the wall. I found myself looking into a bathroom stall. Luckily, it was empty. I could only imagine how someone would react if they saw my head while they were dropping off a number two. Gross!

I stepped all the way forward and turned off the chronometer. I might need it later, but I didn’t want to risk using it around people unless absolutely necessary. I was inside the building, and that was what mattered. Now, I just had to see what the situation was and find Calla.

I peered out the door of the stall and saw that the public washroom was empty. I stepped out into the room itself and walked slowly towards the door. I noticed that there were no urinals; apparently I had entered through the ladies’ room. Oh well, I didn’t think the bank robbers were likely to provide bathroom breaks.

I tiptoed to the door and pushed it open a crack. I put my head against it and listened, trying to see if I could discern what was happening beyond the door. I could have just stuck my head through it, but I didn’t want to risk someone seeing a disembodied face. I wanted to attract as little notice as possible, and all it would take would be someone looking this direction at the wrong time and then reacting too strongly.

I didn’t have to wait long to hear something.

“I said STAY DOWN!” One of the robbers yelled, and it echoed. The bank had a lot of open space for that kind of acoustic effect. I heard a few quiet gasps and whimpers, as if people were scared and doing their best to comply with the order. I could just picture them huddled on the floor with their hands over their heads, expecting the worst.

I couldn’t be totally sure, because of the echo, but the shouter was at some distance from me. They weren’t close, because their voice had to carry. I didn’t know about the other two gunmen, however.

I tapped the door forward with the tips of my fingers, making it move out a little and then letting it swing back. I did it again, a little harder. And then again, a little harder still. No one shouted “Hey, who’s doing that?” or “Come out of there!”

I put my face against the door and pushed it open just wide enough to peek out. The bathroom was in a hallway, off from the main area of the bank. I could see where this hallway attached to the main area, but it was at an angle from the door. No one was going to see me in the hall from the bank itself. My only concern was that there might be someone further down the hall, on the side of the hinges to the door. I couldn’t look that way without coming out.

There was only one way to find out. I stepped back and kicked the door open. Not violently, I didn’t want it to slam. I just gave it a forceful push with my foot, so the door would open outward and then swing back, almost noiselessly.

Again, there was no cry of alarm. There was either someone sneaking towards me with a gun, or there was no one there. I stood still, and counted to ten. When no one came in guns blazing, I pushed the door open just enough to squeeze through and slipped into the hall.

As I’d hoped, there was no one else there. The hallway extended down just far enough for a men’s bathroom. The corridor was along the side of the building, but it didn’t attach to the teller area or to the vaults. It was just a short little hallway for the two bathrooms.

All in all it had been maybe five minutes since the robbers came into the bank. I imagined they had come back here already to make sure there wasn’t anyone in the bathrooms, and then taken their hostages back out to the main floor of the bank. They were unlikely to come back here again, assuming it was secured.

I crouched low and crept up to the part of the hall that led back to the bank itself. I planned to listen to the proceedings, and maybe steal a peek when I thought the coast was clear.

I leaned up against the wall, straining my ears to listen. I heard one of the men moving around. There was a clumping sound, like he’d put something down.

“Fill the bag,” he ordered. I heard rustling sounds and pictured a teller handing over the cash from their counter. Then he moved on again and repeated the process.

I wondered what they were thinking. He wasn’t rushing; the gunman was taking his time. They’d already been here for five minutes. Most bank robbers would be on the run by now, taking what they could grab and then bolting.

Despite the impression of movies and television, large, coordinated bank jobs were rare. I’d learned that in law school. Most robberies were for minimal amounts, in the neighbourhood of five thousand dollars. It was almost impossible to open a bank vault. Modern technology had done away with combinations. Most vaults either had time locks or biometric locks keyed to specific individuals. The days of big safecrackers were long gone. No one made off with millions of dollars anymore.

The average bank robbery had one or two people who passed a note to a teller, got the money from the counter and ran. They usually claimed to have a gun, or even showed it subtly. Despite the threat of force, people were rarely harmed in robberies anymore. Bank robbery was almost a stupid crime: it had a higher clearance rate of arrest and conviction than any other felony except for murder. For the risk involved, there wasn’t much payoff. Why were these guys still here?