Chapter 1

Now that detectives Brennan and Doherty were occupied with organizing the interrogation room, Sterling was free to go about his business, do some necessary chores and relax. Getting coffee for two people whom he regards as intruders was definitely not on his list.

As soon as he left, he headed for his office, by way of the tellers' area. Normally, two tellers would be sitting at their windows, waiting on customers, three tellers, when the bank got busy.

At this time, the area was deserted except for the target of the bank robber's gun, Gertrude La Scola. Her friends, who included almost everyone she's ever met, called her Trudy.

Trudy's prone body was lying on the floor, below her window. Someone had placed a long raincoat over her. Sterling got down on one knee and grasped the collar of the garment. He released it when he heard someone say, "That sure is a shame, Mister Sterling."

It was Jamal, the custodian, a black man in his late forties.

Surprised and a little frightened, Sterling got to his feet and said, "You got that right." He tried to think of more to say. Instead, he walked fast to his office. Before closing the door he glanced down the hall that ran behind the teller's area. He noted that it was deserted and the doors of the four offices were closed.

Once inside his office, he peered through the slatted window out at the lobby. It too, was deserted. Sterling sat at his desk and considered what he needed to do. He realized he was expected to speak to his employees about the robbery and shooting, see if anyone was affected by it and try helping those who weren't handling it very well. It was a job he had no interest in doing.

His mind drifted. He wondered who might have covered Trudy with the raincoat. The next chore he thought of was not a chore at all. It was something he looked forward to doing. He left his office, locked the door and walked down the hall. He knocked gently on the first door on his right. Anyone hearing his knock might recognize it as a code of some sort.

The door opened and Herman rushed in. Rose Anne Zito kissed him with such force, she pinned him against the door, slamming it shut. Though this made considerable noise, it seemed no one but the lovebirds had heard it.

With tears in her eyes, she stepped back, took his hands and held them. They kissed passionately before she let go and sat at her desk. She absentmindedly toyed with a stapler and said, "How is she?"
"I can't talk about her, now," he said. "Just wanted to see how you're doing. There's still some things I need to do."

< < ^ > >

Herman Sterling walked rapidly to the kitchen area, fixed a mug of coffee and walked rapidly back to his office. He locked himself in and unlocked his desk. From the left middle drawer he pulled out a miniature of Amaretto and poured it into his coffee.
He finished about half of it before looking for a pad containing phone numbers of all his employees and their next of kin.

< < ^ > >

"Hello, is this Mister La Scola? I'm afraid I have bad news." After a brief conversation, he hung up and picked up the local yellow pages to search for an ambulance company.