Episode 7: Step One Continued: Still Finding a Bank

One of the main reasons I wanted a Rascal was to free me from the burdens of public transportation. Do you realize that buses just don’t come on a regular basis at 2 in the morning? And have you ever tried getting a driver’s license with a Bavarian birth certificate that was issued back when witches were still being burned at the stake?

So I was stuck relying on the whims of the bus system. And since I didn’t want to be seen briefcasing the bank, I went out at night. Late night. As in, the bus only comes once every two hours night.

The bank I had picked was the one nearest the bus stop downtown, because if I had to rob a bank, at least I wasn’t going to have to walk far to do it. By the time I got there, it was one in the morning, and the streets were empty.

I tottered up to the window and put my hands up to peer in without a reflection from the streetlights. It looked remarkably like a bank. I tried the door.

Locked. Go figure.

Of course, the door was made out of glass, so I was pretty sure I could have broken it, but then there would be the problem of the alarm, and of getting into the vault. If I were current on my blood intake, I could just go and melt into mist or something and sneak into the vault that way. That’s what a vampire would do in the movies. Come to think of it, why didn’t more movies have vampires as heroes? If you ignored the whole blood sucking thing--something most of us didn’t get to do anyway--we had a lot of super powers. Spiderman would have been much better if Peter Parker were a vampire, that was for sure.

I sighed and stepped back from the door. Who was I kidding? All I had done was taken a bus to a place where I’d have to wait another two hours to take a bus home. The whole evening would have been a complete waste, but then a light came on inside the bank.

A light. In the bank. At one in the morning.

And someone was coming to the door. Well, teetering to the door. He came up and shouted through the glass, “Ve’re closed. Go avay!”

I felt my jaw drop open. “Karl?” I said. “What are you doing in the bank?”

He squinted his eyes and put his nose against the glass so he could see better. I derived no small measure of satisfaction watching him realize who it was talking to him. His shoulders slumped, his face went slack, and he swore in German. “Go avay, Victor. I’m busy.”

“You don’t work at the bank,” I said.

“Neither do you. Go avay.”

“I’ll break the door open. Alarms, Karl.”

He sighed and undid the lock. “In. Quick.”

Karl locked the door again behind me and went into the back. I followed him to discover he had what could only be called a burglar kit, opened next to the locked safe: a stethoscope, laser pointer, several paper clips and a hacksaw.

I pointed at it. “What’s this?”

”I’m breaking into the vault.”

“With a laser pointer?” I asked.

“Correction. A laser. I’m not using it to point.”

“Did it work?”

He sighed. “No. But I shined it in my eyes to test it, and I think I might be going blind now.”

“Serves you right,” I said. “It’s illegal, robbing a bank.”

“Then vhat are you doing here at one in the morning?”

I straightened my back. “Walking.”

“Valking?”

“Yes. It’s supposed to be good for you.”

“Quatsch,” he said. “You vere here to suitcase the bank.”

“It’s called briefcase, dummkopf. Robbery is a business, not a vacation.”

“Vhatever,” Karl said. “This bank’s mine. Go find your own.”

“No,” I said. “We can do this together.”

He laughed and hitched his pants up. “You got a plan or something?”

I smiled and looked around the room. “As a matter of fact, I do.”

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