Page 81 - Effable Encounters

The Formic Solution

Gill smacked his lips. “I don’t suppose you could talk to the teller
who gave her the money or get a photocopy of the withdrawal slip.”
“Not without a court order. You know that.”
“We’re missing something here, Ann. Like what the hell would
make a sweet old lady kick over her traces and head for anonymity
somewhere in the fleshpots of the jet-setters.”
Ann sat down in the armchair reserved for clients, a small gesture
of defiance. “I can tell you what would make a sweet young
woman—me, for instance—do it: access to a few thousand dollars.”
“Oh, you can do better than that. She was sitting on her nest egg
for years. Why now? Why so suddenly?” Phibian, annoyingly, would
not even take his eyes off his new toy to scold her.
She shrugged and chewed on the softer parts of her budget
breakfast. “You tell me. You’re the great detective.”
“All right. No more easy work for you, dear lady. This old biddy
lived according to a rigid schedule—lucky for us, eh? Something in
that routine had to change during that week to set her off. I would
guess it has to do with another human being. Thus, your assignment
is to find out who she dealt with at those three institutions: the staff
as well as clients. Find out who she came in contact with. Make me
nice tidy lists, like railroad timetables. Perhaps some old war vet
conned her into meeting him in Acapulco for one last fling. Maybe
an infant with an incurable disease broke her heart and she lost her
stomach for volunteer work. The data doesn’t lie. You gather it, I’ll
process it. That might take a couple of days. See you here Friday
morning. I have enough to eat until then. Just pick up the usual
things for the weekend.”
Ann gnashed her teeth and clawed at the Naugahyde. If Gill’s
strategy were to inflate his expenses for his clients, then she would do
the same to hers for him. There had to be a way to return a cream pie
to a fancy bakery, keep the receipt, buy a cheaper one elsewhere, and
pocket the difference. But Gill would detect it. If pigs ate
indiscriminately, he wasn’t one except in appetite.
“So be it. But be sure to clean up after yourself in the kitchen.
You’ve got ants.”
Her witticism fell on a sensorium otherwise occupied. She dusted a
crumb off her skirt and left.

80