Captain Noonan, the Bearded Holmes of the Sandersonville Police Department, was, again, deep in channeling. This time it was not his Airedale, Ginger, but his neon tetra. In the plural. He had been told they ‘thought as a unit’ because they schooled as a unit. Neon tetra may school as a unit but that was as educated as they appeared to be. They seemed content to hover in formation for hours, wriggling only their tails, as they all faced the same direction.

Until they didn’t.

Then they would face the opposite direction, as a unit, as if there was a current in the aquarium, which had suddenly changed. The only time they broke ranks was when they were fed. Other than that, they were as predictable as cords on corduroy.

It was going to be a beautiful day. His wife was out of town and his occupational nemesis was in some kind of supervisors’ retreat where cell phones were not permitted. The sun was up, the ocean was flat, the day was warm and a guacamole cheeseburger at the Sandersonville Grille was calling has name.

What could possibly go wrong?

It did.

The phone rang.

The woman on the other end of the line had a problem.

An invisible man had stolen diamonds from a locked bank vault.

* * *

“Ralph Ellison or H. G. Wells?” Noonan asked as he pawed through his desk for a notebook.

“Sorry?”

“That’s my literary degree getting in the way of police work. Ralph Ellison and H. G. Wells both wrote of invisible men.”

“Sure. I know that. Ralph Ellison’s book was about blacks in the 1950s and Wells’ was a real invisible man. Well, fictionally real.”

“Great,” Noonan said as pulled the cap off his pen. “And you are . . . “

“Emily Yanxak. I work for Smith Security Systems, SSS, and no, this is not a gag call.”

“OK, SSS.” Noonan wrote it down. “Where is SSS located?”

“Hickok, Nebraska. Yes, it is a real town and no, it has nothing to do with Wild Bill Hickock. We are a town of 30,000 on the North Loup River midway between Hyannis and Valentine. That’s Hyannis, Nebraska, not Hyannis Port. You probably don’t know this, but Hyannis, Nebraska, is the richest town per capita in America – even though it has less than 400 people.”

“Not in cash, I imagine,” Noonan said.

“Correct. Land. The county, Grant County, has 560,000 acres divided into 150 farms. You can make a lot of money on that land.”

“No doubt. Now, about your robbery.”

“Diamonds. And I have a hard time saying, by invisible man.”

“What do you mean by invisible?”

“We have security footage showing the diamonds going into a drawer in a bank vault. And we have security footage of the drawer in the vault being opened three weeks later. It was empty then. We also have 24/7 visual security in the vault. No one touched the drawer for three weeks. The diamonds went it but never came out and no one opened the drawer for three weeks.”

* * *

“Well,” Noonan said as he pulled out a map of Nebraska. “I won’t be able to go to Nebraska any time soon. The best I can do is take a wild guess.”

“A guess is a lot better than what I’ve got now,” Yanxak said.

“OK,” Noonan said as he began to write. “Here’s a list of questions for you. When you get all the answers, give me a call back.”

“I’m ready.”

“In no particular order, how long as the bank been in business, has there been any repair work on the bank recently, has the bank ever been robbed, does the bank have people in the vault every day or just occasionally, where is the drawer in question located, have you checked the back of the bank to make sure no one tunneled in, in what form were the diamonds, what exactly did you see on the security tape, who set up the procedures for putting the diamonds in the vault, are the police involved in the disappearance in any way, how much insurance is there on the diamonds, are the same people from SSS involved in all transfers of gems like the diamonds, how big is SSS, how long has it been in business and, and, and, I can’t think of another question right now.”

“That’s a lot. I’ll see what I can do.”

“You know the number.”

* * *

Historically, Hickock, Nebraska, had none. That is to say, it was so new all that was on the internet was ‘current events.’ That was both good and bad. I was good because there was not so many events to plumb. But it was bad because there wasn’t much of a background on the city.

In a nutshell, Hickock had been founded by Jeremy Hickock – no relation to ‘Wild Bill’ – in 2010 as a Midwest software center. It was the silicon valley of the Midwest, dubbed AKSARBEN, spelled with capital letters. This is because it was the word “Nebraska” spelled backwards, a term/word/concept coined in the 1890s by Nebraskan businessmen who were intent on developing Nebraska as an economic powerhouse. (It didn’t happen.) Hickock – again Jeremy, not ‘Wild Bill’ – was looking for a location to established a Midwest warehouse for mail orders. A new highway – at least, in Nebraska it was called a highway – was being constructed and Hickok saw potential where the road crossed the North Loup River. You cannot have a city without water and with water you can have an empire. So there he built.

Then came the evolutionary surges. He didn’t have to buy any farms to build the warehouse so the land was dirt-cheap or, as they say in Nebraska, Holdrege cheap, Holdrege being ‘State Soil of Nebraska.’ The central location attracted the trucking companies and thereafter, other mail order companies. Then came a special tax break for business by the Nebraska Legislature – unicameral, Noonan knew – and then a widening of the intrastate.

One of the advantages of Nebraska for the truckers was the uniqueness of Nebraska: flat. Very flat. In Nebraska, prairie dog mounds are mountains and the only valleys are the embankments in skateboard parks. Dr. Scholl would have loved Nebraska, pool table felt doubles as topographic maps and if your dog runs away from home, you can see him for three days. There was, humorously Noonan noted, only one ‘elevated’ geographic anomaly in Nebraska: Chimney Rock. Located in Western Nebraska, it was a single spire, 300 feet tall, quite literally, sticking out – and up – of the surrounding flat, flatlands. The Natives called it “Elk’s Penis” which was softened by wagon train cartographers to “Elk’s Peak” and thereafter “Chimney Rock.”

One of the two other tidbits of Nebraskana Noonan picked up was the “two finger salute,” the brief greeting Nebraskans give each other. It is simply the lifting of the middle and index finger as if to ‘say howdy’ without actually saying the words. Secondly, the humorist in Noonan was pleased discover “Der Viener Schlinger,” a handheld howitzer which shoots hot dogs into the stands at Cornhusker games. The hotdogs, made in Fairbury, Nebraska, are a staple in both Nebraska games and jokes: “Why do all hotdogs look the same?” (Because they are all in bread) and “What did the Fairbury hot dog say to the German hot dog?” (You’re the wurst!)

Fortunately, Hickok had a newspaper. And it was a quality publication, not a chamber -of-commerce-grocery-store tabloid. This, Noonan knew, was the fingerprint of a quality community. Forget the internet, people read newspapers and newspapers tell the story of the community. Even better, newspapers do investigative reporting, anathema to the internet where quick is the hard and fast rule. There was direct correlation between quality newspapers and corruption in the community.

In the case of Hickock, there was a real need for investigating reporting. The town was growing so fast there were scams, problems and runaway projects galore. It had an oversized police force for a community its size – for very good reason. The bunco squad was statistically twice the size of the road patrol and there had only been one violent incident since the city was established. The shooting, however, was courtesy of three drunk hunters – probably on Nebraska Red Beer – who stumbled in the dark into a patch of prairie dog burrow holes and a gun went off shooting the mayor in the leg. (‘Hunting in the dark in Nebraska?’ Noonan thought. ‘For what?’)

Because it was growing so fast, Hickok had more than its fair share of problems. In an attempt to leap into the next century, the city had chosen to go 100% renewable. Trucks coming through town used diesel so there was a solitary diesel station in town but it also offered biofuel and electricity. In addition to the obvious power of the river, the city had harnessed wind, solar and local geothermal. The bulk of the cars in the city were hybrid because electricity was cheap. This was primarily because the city was producing more power than it needed so it was discounting what it had.

The technology was available but there were growth glitches. Power outages were frequent but not serious. Cooling was a problem this time of year so when the power went down, residents and businesses switched to back-up generators. This problem was expected to get worse as more businesses came online. Homes could use solar panels but businesses required a constant supply of power, particularly the stores which had large freezers.

Storage space was also a problem. Not so much for the stores because they had mobile inventory in the sense they sold what they had and expected a new shipment in before the old merchandise was sold. The butcher, for instance, had a week’s supply of meat because another week’s supply would be in by Friday. The businesses with the greatest difficulties were the smaller enterprises. A dentist, for instance, had to have all of his/her tools ready for use for every patient. The dentist could not drill on Monday and wait until Wednesday to get the filler or a crown. The auto parts store needed the fan belt today, not next week. The hot water tank control panel had to be in stock in Hickok when it was needed. Plumbers had to have all their equipment in their truck because every job was different.

Of particular interest to Noonan was an article on the increasing number of jewelry stores in Hickok. Why? Because of an aggressive campaign by the local investment counselors to consider gems – not jewelry, but gems – as a hedge against inflation. Gems, the councilors, advised their clients, had a sustained increase in value over the years. Everyone in Hickok was making good money and doing well with their investments. But the investment councilors urged their clients to diversity. True to the adage money is like manure and is best spread around, the councilors suggested their clients purchase some gold, some gems, some land, some stocks, some bonds, some penny stocks and some something else. Since those making money in Hickok were doing so well, the “something investments” were viewed as a hedge against disaster rather than a serious investment.

When it came to crime detection, Noonan knew research did not reveal truths, only pieces of a puzzle. What took intuition was assembling what one had and looking for a pattern. From the history of Hickok and its newspaper, he had a lot of puzzle pieces.

But that was it.

He was hopeful he could get some more puzzle pieces where Yanxak called back.

He did.

But where the pieces fit he was not sure.

“You have some facts for me?” Noonan said hopefully when Yanxak called the next day.

“Yes, but I don’t know what good they will do you.”

“Well, let’s hear what you’ve got.”

“Ok, here goes.” Yanxak took a breath. “The bank is new but then again, so in Hickock. It’s ten years old, the last five years at its current location. It was constructed by one of the best bank construction companies in the state. There are no tunnels under or behind the vault. I double checked with the Hickock Police.”

“Do the police now about the theft?”

“SSS filed a report and they did a walk through the vault. I’m sure there is an active file in the station but right now, there’s nothing to investigate.”

“OK. Go on.”

“The bank has never been robbed and there is a constant flow of people through the vault. It’s the only place in town that has safety deposit boxes so some businesses store their critical equipment in the boxes. Three dentists have their sensitive equipment in the vault, for instance. Other companies, which use the vault for temporary storage, are three art galleries, several of the jewelry companies, quite a few lawyers and two of the mechanical engineering firms. The drawers where the diamonds disappeared are in the second tier of lock boxes up from the floor. The first tier are larger boxes for those companies I mentioned. There are five tiers of lock boxes above the drawer where the diamonds disappeared.”

“OK,” said Noonan writing feverishly. “Now tell me about the missing diamonds.”

“The diamonds were placed in a padded cloth bag at the jewelry store. SSS did not see the gems because we are the transport company, not the appraiser. The padded cloth bag was placed in a transport box, one of ours, and taken under guard to the bank.”

“Is all of this on the security camera tape?”

“We don’t security tape in Hickok. It’s all digital. There is no tape the way you mean it. But I know what you mean. Yes, digitally, we eyeballed the transfer in the jewelry store. The bag went into the carrying case and then out the door. Three SSS employees were with the case all the way to the bank.”

“Are the SSS employees always the same when a transfer like this is made?”

“No. We often work together but there are no teams. We are mixed up all the time. To keep people from getting sticky fingers.”

“Go on.”

“When we got to the bank . . .”

“You were with the group?”

“Yes. I was in charge.”

“OK. Go on.”

“We went into the vault. The guardian of the box, that’s what we call him, opened the box, took out the padded bag and placed it inside the open drawer. I saw the insertion and so did the digital surveillance equipment. The box was pushed shut and locked. I had one key and the guardian of the box had the other. Both keys, separately let me add, went back to SSS and were locked up separately. Three weeks later, when we opened the vault, the gems were gone.”

“Was the bag gone?”

“No. Just the gems. Diamonds.”

“And the box was not opened at any time for any reason between the moment the diamonds went into the vault and when you opened the safety deposit box three weeks later.”

“Correct.”

“Did you look at every second of those three weeks on the digital security system?”

“Yes.”

“How many people went into the vault over that time period?”

“About 50.”

“That’s quite a few.”

“Like I said before, a lot of businesses use the safety deposit boxes for delicate equipment storage.”

“Was there any repair work being done in the vault during those weeks?”

“Some but not on our tier, so to speak. There was a water main break and the bank had to open the bottom row of safety deposit boxes to make sure they were not flooded. And, yes, we watched the repair work on the security system second-by-second to make sure there was no hanky-panky with our drawer.”

“How long was the repair work?”

“Depends on what you mean by repair. The bank went safety deposit box by safety deposit box along the bottom tier, one at a time. The owner would open the box and take out what was deposited. Then a bank repair person went into the empty cavern and did whatever repair was necessary. If there was a repair to be made, it was done on the spot.”

“How long did it take to make repairs?”

“Some of the boxes required none. Three of them took about ten minutes.”

“Were the three near your safety deposit box?”

“Immediately below it.”

A gong went off in the deep recess of Noonan’s mind.

* * *

A week later, Harriet, Noonan’s administrative assistant and office gadfly, came into his office with a small box. She sat on the edge of his desk and, with a questioning look on her face, pulled out a miniature hot dog desk weight with CORN HUSKERS! in bold print.

“Tell me, mighty one,” she said as she juggled the weight, “how you earned this?”

“What makes you think I earned it?” he asked slyly.

“Because,” Harriet said as she whipped a note out of the box. “It says here.” She waggled the note as she read. “Caught him cold with diamonds. I got a promotion. You get a hot dog.”

“And?” Noonan said innocently.

“P-l-e-a-s-e,” snapped Harriet. “Give.”

“A matter of an invisible man, a bag of diamonds and a very clever plan gone wrong.”

“Give,” Harriet repeated.

“A clever ruse. A simple bait and switch. A security guard with sticky fingers put a fake padded bag with ice to imitate a bag of diamonds in a security box. Then he went to a jewelry store where he picked up a delivery of diamonds in the same kind of padded bag. When he went into the bank vault, he simply put the fake bag with the ice diamonds into the security deposit box.”

“No one saw him make the switch?”

“Everyone was looking at the bag going into the lock box, not the carrying case. The padded bag with the ice went into the security deposit box and the real diamonds went out the door in the SSS lock box. Ice melted and became water.”

“When was the theft discovered?”

“There weeks later when the safety deposit box was opened. Then there were no diamonds.”

“But there had to be water in the safety deposit box. Those boxes are airtight.”

“Not this time. Some repair work had to be done on the safety deposit boxes underneath the box with the ice diamonds. While the repair work was being done, a very small drill was used to drill into the box above. It drained the water out. When the safety deposit box was opened, the padded diamond bag was empty. So, since the security people had been watching the vault 24/7, the robbery had to have been done by an invisible man.”

“Let me guess,” Harriet said. “The insurance company paid to keep it quiet.”

“You are correct.”

“But,” she said as she fanned the note again, “they caught the guy.”

“Silence, Harriet, dear, silence. It’s the Code of Silence in the insurance business. Rates go up and no one is wiser.”

“So this guy got away with it?”

“I doubt it. The note says they got the diamonds back. He’s out of a job for sure but no one’s going to admit they got robbed.”

“The Code of Silence,” she muttered. “I could have used it with my late husband.”

“Well, you were married to him for 30 years. He did deserve at least one moment.”