The Millionaires

24

The first fifteen minutes were supposed to calm her down. No one to yell at… no one to speak to – just her – alone in a room, with nothing to stare at but a single wooden desk and four mismatched office chairs. All around her, the walls were stark white – no pictures, nothing to distract – except for the enormous mirror that ran along the righthand wall. Obviously, the mirror was the first thing Maggie Caruso noticed. It was supposed to be. As the Secret Service well knew, with today’s miniaturized video technology, there was no practical reason to still use two-way mirrors. But that didn’t mean that, even when there was no one behind them, they didn’t have their own psychological effect. Indeed, the sight alone had Maggie twisting uncomfortably in her seat. And that’s what the next fifteen minutes were all about.

Trying to block it out, Maggie used her right hand to shield her eyes. In her head, she reminded herself that everything was okay. Her sons were fine. That’s what Gallo told her. He said it right to her face. But if that were the case, what was she doing downtown, at the New York headquarters of the Secret Service? The answer came with a sharp rattle and a twist of the doorknob. She turned to her left, and the door swung wide.

“Maggie Caruso?” DeSanctis asked as he stepped inside. With a file folder swinging at his side, he was dressed in a navy suit, but without the jacket. Sleeves rolled up to his elbows. Serious, but hardly threatening. Behind him, Gallo followed, nodding a fast hello. Forever the seamstress, Maggie couldn’t help but notice his poorly fitted suit – a clear sign of either bad taste, vast impatience, or an oversized ego (men always thought they were bigger than they were). Despite the forty-minute car ride from Brooklyn, she still didn’t know which. But she did know what she wanted. Her voice cracked as she said the words.

“Please… when can I see my boys?”

“Actually, that’s what we were hoping you could help us with,” DeSanctis said. He took the seat on her left; Gallo took the one on her right. Neither of them sat straight across, she noticed. Both were on her side.

“I don’t understand…” she began.

Gallo looked at DeSanctis, who slowly slid the file folder on the table. “Mrs. Caruso, sometime last night, someone stole a… well… a significant amount of money from Greene Private Bank. This morning, when the thieves were confronted, gunfire was exchanged and-”

“Gunfire?” she interrupted, her voice shaking. “Was anyone…”

“Oliver and Charlie are fine,” he reassured her, cupping his hands over her own. “But in the process, a man named Shep Graves was shot and killed by the two suspects, who managed to escape.”

Maggie turned to Gallo, who was biting at a blood-red cut on his lip. “What does this have to do with my sons?” she asked hesitantly.

Still holding her hands, DeSanctis leaned in close. “Mrs. Caruso, have you heard from Charlie or Oliver in the past few hours?”

“Excuse me?”

“If they were hiding somewhere, do you know where that might be?”

Maggie yanked her hands free and shot out of her seat. “What’re you talking about?”

Just as fast, Gallo was on his feet. “Ma’am, can you please sit down?”

“Not until you tell me what’s going on! Are you accusing them of something!?”

“Ma’am, sit down!”

“Oh, God – you’re serious, aren’t you?”

“Ma’am…!”

DeSanctis grabbed Gallo by the wrist and pulled him back into place. Facing Maggie, he added, “Please, Mrs. Caruso, there’s no need to-”

“They’d never do something like that! Never!” she insisted.

“I’m not saying they would,” DeSanctis offered, keeping his voice slow and smooth. “I’m just trying to protect them…”

“That’s funny – because you sound like someone who’s dying to pin them down.”

“Call it whatever you want,” Gallo jumped in. “But the longer they stay out there, the more they’re in danger.”

Right there, Maggie stopped. “What?”

Taking a deep breath, Gallo rubbed the back of his buzz cut. Maggie studied him carefully, unsure if it was frustration… or real concern. “We’re only trying to help you, Mrs. Caruso. It’s just that, you know how these things go… you watch the news. When was the last time a fugitive made a safe getaway? Or lived happily ever after?” Gallo asked. “It doesn’t happen, Maggie. And the longer you keep your mouth shut, the more likely some law enforcement hotshot is going to put a bullet in one of your sons’ necks.”

Unable to move, Maggie just stood there, letting the logic sink in.

“I know you want to protect them – and I understand your hesitation,” Gallo added. “But ask yourself this: Do you really want to bury your own children? Because from here on in, Maggie, the choice is up to you.”

Still frozen, Maggie Caruso watched the world blur in a flood of tears.

Outside of Maggie’s apartment building, the Verizon van pulled into an open spot right behind a dented black car. There was no running, or scrambling, or screeching of brakes. Instead, the side door of the van slid open and three men in Verizon uniforms got out. All three carried telephone company IDs in their right pocket, and Secret Service badges in their left. Their pace stayed calm and steady as they unloaded their toolboxes. Part of the training. Telephone repairmen never rushed.

As physical security specialists in the Technical Security Division, all they needed was twenty minutes to turn any home into a perfect soundstage. Gallo said they’d have at least two hours. They’d still be done in twenty minutes. Heading inside, the tallest of the three shoved a tiny three-pronged tweezer toward the lock. In four seconds, the door was open.

“Phone box in the basement,” the one with black hair called out.

“I got it,” the third said, heading for the stairwell in the corner of the lobby. Only novices put wiretaps in the actual phone. Thanks to Hollywood, it’s the first place everyone looked.

In the elevator, the other two noticed the rusty metal door and the outdated callbox. Old buildings usually took an extra step or two. Thicker walls; deeper drilling. Eventually, the elevator hiccuped to a halt on the fourth floor. The door rolled open and Joey was waiting. She took one look at the Verizon uniforms and lowered her head.

“Have a good night,” the taller one said as he stepped out.

“You too,” Joey replied, sliding around him to get in. As they passed each other, Joey’s chest brushed against his arm. He smiled. She smiled right back. And just like that, she was gone.

“I swear, I haven’t heard from them once,” Maggie stammered, wiping her eyes with the edge of her sleeve. “I was home all day… all my clients… but they never…”

“We believe you,” Gallo said. “But the longer Charlie and Oliver are out there, the more likely they are to check in. And when they do, I want your promise that you’ll keep them talking as long as possible. Are you listening, Maggie? That’s all you have to do. We’ll take care of the rest.”

Catching her breath, Maggie tried to picture the moment in her head. So much of it still didn’t make sense. “I don’t know…”

“I realize it’s hard,” DeSanctis added. “Believe me, I have two little girls myself – no parent should ever be put in this situation. But if you want to save them, this is truly the best… for everyone.”

“Now whattya say?” Gallo asked. “Can we count on you?”