[center][b]Jock Sturgeon Part V: The Sting [/b][/center] [b]Lost Haven Financial District 10:28 AM[/b] "Something wrong, Mr. Dunmoore?" Sean didn't realize his hands were shaking until he saw Blomkamp looking down at them. In his right hand was the small key to a safety deposit box. He stood with Blomkamp in the basement of his bank among the hundreds of other safety deposit box. The bank president escorted them down and handed Sean the key before quietly excusing himself to go back upstairs. Blomkamp carried an empty briefcase to carry the cash. "I'm fine," said Sean. "I just... never had anyone else with me to do this before." Blomkamp nodded. Sean hopped he bought it. The wire on his chest was aided by a button camera on the lapel of his suit. The FBI agents wanted to see the con man take the cash. After they had in on film, they would be waiting outside the bank to with a pair of cuffs to escort him to jail. "I'll help," Blomkamp said with a sly grin. The two men pulled the long lock box from its place on the shelf and carried it over to a table. Sean opened the box with his key and pulled it open. Stacks of cash were nestled in it along with legal documents, loose jewelry, and a pistol. Sean pushed the pistol to the side and grabbed for the cash. Hundreds bundled in ten thousand dollar stacks began to quickly fill the briefcase until a cool half million sat in Blomkamp's briefcase. By Sean's quick count, at least another fifty thousand dollars was left after this raid. "Mr. Dunmoore," said Blomkamp with a sheepish grin. "If I may be so bold. In the event of overages or underestimates, would it be possible to get the rest of the cash from this box? Whatever we don't need shall be safely returned to you in either cash or investment." Sean almost laughed out loud. The nerve of this man! He was already robbing him of a half million, and he was asking for more? The greedy son of a-- "Sure," Sean said with a grin. "I trust you, Jackob." What the hell, thought Sean. He was about to be arrested and all this money would go back in his lock box where it belonged. He'd think he got one over on Sean, at least until the FBI agents showed up with their guns and badges. Then Sean would have the last laugh. "So kind," Blomkamp said as he grabbed the rest of the cash and stuffed it into his now full case. "If it is alright will you, I will go upstairs and get the manager to come down here and be on my way. I will be on a plane tonight back to Africa and call you once I am safely on the ground. Know that your investment is in safe hands." The two men shook and Dunmoore smiled. If he had a mirror he would see that it was a smile with no humor in it. "Of course. I look forward to our long and fruitful partnership, Jackob." Blomkamp bowed graciously and started upstairs with the case. Sean took his time locking his safe deposit box and placing it back on the shelf. When he was sure enough time had elapsed he started back upstairs. The confident smile on his face disappeared when he entered the lobby and saw... nothing. "All done, Mr. Dunmoore?" asked the bank manager. "Where's..." Sean started before trailing off. "The gentleman you went down with left a few minutes ago. He said you would be up shortly. Is th--" Sean cut him off as he ran through the lobby and out the door. Blomkamp was nowhere to be found, neither were the two FBI agents. Cursing, Sean pulled out his phone and dialed the number Special Agent Marks had given him. It rang a few times before it picked up. "FBI Lost Haven office, how may I direct your call." "I need Special Agent Marks' cell phone." "I'm sorry, sir, who?" "Special Agent Marks. I'm Sean Dunmoore. I need to talk to him right now." "I'm sorry, sir, but there's no agent by that name in this office." "Are you serious?!," he growled. "He's an FBI agent, partner is Agent Robb. He--" Sean stopped talking. He almost dropped his cell phone when it hit him like a ton of bricks. Special Agent Robb. Special Agent Marks. Robb. Marks. Rob marks. The receptionist tried to talk, but she couldn't hear anything except Sean's loud and crazed laughter. ---- [b]Lost Haven Financial District 11:08 AM[/b] "Stick 'em up!" Joey Baggs groweled, his right finger in the shape of a gun. I let out polite applause as he and Harry the Hat slid into the coffeeshop booth across from me. Both men were still in their fake FBI windbreakers and suits while I had shucked my Blomkamp disguise off as soon as I got away from Dunmoore. "Bravo," I said with a slight bow. "My two star players. I've got something for you." Two stacks of twenty-five thousand dollars seemed to appear on the table in front of me. "That looks like more than twenty grand," said Harry the Hat. "It is," I shrugged. "But not much more. I was able to squeeze a few extra bucks out of the mark. Take it while I'm generous, fellas." The two con men grabbed the money and stuffed it into their clothes. "What did I tell you," Joey said to his partner. "Easiest money you'll ever make, working with Sturgeon." Harry the Hat nodded and looked at me expectantly. "You'll let us when you got another con going on, Jock?" "If I'm in need of your services, I shall call." I slid the check from my coffee and breakfast sandwich towards the two men and started to stand. "Now pay my bill. It's the least you can do." "Where you going?" Joey asked. "We pulled off a hell of a score, Jock. You don't wanna celebrate." "No can do, fellas," I sighed. "I gotta go solve a murder." --- [b]Little Ulster 2:39 PM[/b] I caught Jerry Lonnegan in between three-card hustles. He had the card table tucked under his arm and was waiting for a bus by himself. Jerry walked the same route on alternative days. If you knew Jerry as long as I had, you knew about where he'd be at any given day. "Jock," Jerry said with a wink. "How's tricks?" "Tricky," I said. "How's running the short grift?" "Tricker still." "Why'd you do it, Jerry?" His big grin disappeared. He started to shake his head in denial, but I held a hand up to stop him. "I found the list Fat Ricky Fat hid in his apartment. You two were part of the same chain in the Ambulance Chaser's last hit. Not only that, you two two links together. Whose idea was it to break into Fitzwaller's office and steal the paperwork?" Jerry looked from left to right, stopped when he saw a cheesy ad for Fitzwaller on the side of the bus stop. Someone had drawn a cartoon dick right next to his mouth. Under normal circumstances, I would have laughed my ass off. "Me," he sighed. "I've been thinking about it since I heard from one of the Stafford twins that the lawyer writes it all down. So, when a burglar turned out to be my contact in the chain... how could I resist, Jock?" "So Ricky breaks into the office, makes it obvious he broke in, and steals the paperwork that Fitzwaller would give anything to keep. But Ricky doesn't share, does he? He hides it and tries to blackmail Fitzwaller by himself so, you did what you did to him." "Had he told me where they were, he wouldn't be dead," Jerry said coldly. "It's his own fault, the fat fuck." "You've got two options, Jerry. Option 1: You leave town, I tell the Ambulance Chaser I found the paperwork in Fat Ricky Fat's apartment but don't mention you, as far as Fitzwaller is concerned he'll be none the wiser. Option 2: You stay in town, I tell the Ambulance Chaser I found the paperwork in Fat Ricky Fat's apartment but don't mention you, as far as Fitzwaller is concerned he'll be none the wiser... but I tell Irish Tom what you did. And he's not gonna take too kindly with you being so careless with papers that have his name on it." It was a hell of a thing, seeing someone as dark as Jerry going pale from fright. "You're a motherfucker, Jock, I--" "I'm a friend, Jerry," I spoke over him to drown him out. "That's the only reason I'm giving you a choice. Any other crook, I tell Fitzwaller the whole tale and sleep soundly while you sleep with the fishes. This is me at my most generous, Jerry. What's it gonna be?" Jerry stared at his feet for a long moment before shrugging. "Fuck it. There's marks all over the country." "I hear LA is lovely this time of year." "One more question: How did it go with Dunmoore?" "I cleared a half a million." His grin was back and he clapped his hands together. "My man!" I nodded and turned away from my friend and disappeared into the night. [center][b]End[/b][/center]