Partners Against Crime

“Faster!”

A gun against his head, Carl filled the bag with bills as fast as he could, then handed it back to the hooded man over the counter. The police sirens could already be heard outside in the far distance.

“The watch too!” screamed the assailant.

The clerk glanced at the golden watch on his wrist and swallowed with great difficulty.

“It has sentimental value,” he replied in a shaky voice.

“THE WATCH TOO!”

Betty, the bank’s financial advisor, crept up from behind her desk, her square glasses sliding down to the edge of her nose.

“Give it to him Carl,” she pleaded. “Give it now!”

Under pressure, Carl complied and mechanically tossed the golden watch into the bag. The assailant’s female accomplice grew impatient.

“C’mon, we have to go! The cops are almost here.”

Both robbers dashed out, leaving the bank’s employees and clients trembling like leaves in their frozen positions.

“Are you insane?” yelled Betty as she tried to put one foot in front of the other to walk towards the counter, putting her glasses back into place. “You never refuse to do something when there’s a gun to your head.”

“It was my father’s watch,” replied the clerk. “It’s all I have left of him. All I had left.”

“At least you’re alive! These guys were going full on Bonnie & Clyde, they were not to be messed with.”

The policemen arrived, brandishing their revolvers left and right, oblivious to the fact they were much too late. Sergeant Harris took both the clerk and the financial advisor apart in the loan manager’s office to get their depositions.

“Did you notice any detail that could help in identifying them?”

“No,” replied Carl. “They were dressed in black from head to toe, there was barely an inch of skin visible.”

“What sum of money did they take out?”

“Roughly twenty thousand, plus my watch.”

“How much was the watch worth?”

“It was fake gold, so probably six hundred tops, but it had sentimental value.”

The Sergeant rolled his eyes.

“Sentimental value is the least of our concerns here.”

He got up and gathered his belongings, ready to walk out of the narrow office.

“Wait, so that’s it?” asked Carl.

“Unless you have something else to tell me, yes.”

“What about my watch?”

“We’ll investigate for sure, but it’s a long shot. Judging from the similarities, it’s probably these wannabe Bonnie & Clyde who have been hopping from state to state carrying out heists. Nobody has managed to catch them. We’re looking at pros here.”

“Are you saying they’ve done this multiple times? You better do something then!”

Betty grabbed his hand in an attempt to calm him down.

“Carl, please,” she said. “We should just let the policemen do their work.”

“You’re absolutely right Miss,” chuckled the Sergeant, dismissing Carl’s outburst. “Let’s keep your boyfriend under control.”

“He’s not my—”

“Not my business,” he replied, hastily walking out the door and shutting it behind him.

Carl banged against the table, his skin bright red from the blood boiling under the surface.

“You’re taking this watch business a bit too seriously,” stated Betty. “I get it, family heirlooms are important, but so is survival. Besides, the Sergeant is right, they don’t have much to work with right now.”

“It’s not just about the family heirloom,” he said, his body still quaking.

“What is it, then?”

“The watch… I lied. It's quite valuable. I discovered last week it was a rare Italian item. I already put it up for auction online, it could easily sell for half a million dollars.”

“Oh dear," sighed Betty. "That’s tragic, for sure. I guess you’ll just have to live without it.”

“Actually, I can’t. I’ve been gambling a little bit recently… let’s just say I owe money to bad people right now.”

"Bad people?"

"Yeah. Pretty bad people. I never thought I'd say this, but I might as well be dead if I'm not able to repay my debts."

The admission shocked Betty to the core. Carl, the respected bank clerk with a boring life and boring name, had just revealed himself to be wilder than she expected. A part of her pitied him. Yet, another part felt excited. Her life was also quite boring, and the morning heist was certainly the most exhilarating rush of adrenaline she had felt in her lifetime. Somehow, she craved to feel that rush again. She got up and paced back and forth around the office.

“I didn’t expect that kind of behaviour from you.”

“I didn’t even expect it from myself.”

“What if I help you track them down? Would you be willing to share a bit of that money with me?”

“How would you even do that? You said it yourself, the policemen have nothing. We’re just two boring bankers, I hardly think we can go fight off professional criminals.”

She booted the manager’s computer and launched an online search.

“Don’t underestimate me, Carl. I predict the stocks all day. There’s more than one algorithm in my bag to predict where they’ll go next.”

***

Bonnie & Clyde parked in an alleyway three blocks away from Chicago’s Millenium Bank in their old-fashioned grey Rolls Royce.

“Are you sure we should be going for this one?” asked Clyde. “I think we should drive further up north. We’re too close to the last bank.”

“Don’t be stupid,” replied Bonnie. “I’ve been making the choices so far, and we always got away with it. Maybe you should stop questioning me. Put your hood on.”

They both put on their black garments and got out of the car. Much to their surprise, a woman was waiting for them at the end of the alleyway. It was Betty, although Bonnie and Clyde did not recognize her as the banker from their last heist.

“Who are you?” yelled Clyde menacingly.

“Your worst nightmare,” replied Betty with the fierceness of a lynx. The line was cliché, but it gave her the feeling of being in an old film noir, and the inebriating rush of adrenaline came to her.

Clyde pointed his weapon at the advisor.

“Step aside, now! We have some business to do.”

“Poor you. So simple minded. You’re awfully predictable, you know that. I just had to do a simple data mining extraction to pinpoint exactly your selection pattern. You always stalk the bank clerk on LinkedIn two days ahead of your heist, with the exact same account.”

"How do you--"

"Because the last clerk you robbed gave me access to his LinkedIn history, you idiot."

“Shut up, old hag,” yelled Bonnie. Step aside now!”

“I wouldn’t be so cocky if I were you.”

"And what exactly are you going to do? It's two against one, and you have no weapon."

"No, but I do."

The criminals froze. Carl stood behind them, pointing guns at their scalps.

“I’ll take my watch back,” he declared. “And the car, too.”

***

Betty and Carl rolled down the interstate highway back to Indiana with their brand new Rolls Royce, with Betty in the driver’s seat.

“I didn’t know you were so badass,” said Carl gleefully, counting the money in the bag. “They'll welcome us like heroes at the bank. I can sell that watch now, plus we have a sweet ride. It’ll be hard to go back to normal life after this.”

“Actually, I’m a bit tired of the banker lifestyle,” replied Betty.

"But... that's the only thing we know how to do."

"Not true. Looks like we're pretty good private detectives. I am, at least, but I could use a sidekick. Don't you want to keep feeling this rush Carl?"

"You can't be serious."

"I see it from here. Betty and Carl, Partners Against Crime."

"That does sound pretty good."

"Of course it does. I came up with it."

Betty's square glasses slid down her nose again, but this time, she threw them out the window of the Rolls Royce. The financial advisor was no more. The new partners against crime rode into the sunset, wild and free.