Captain Noonan, the Bearded Holmes of the Sandersonville Police Department, was silently chuckling at one of his loo loo calls. In this particular case he was, albeit courtesy of his in-laws, a step and a half ahead of the caller. In this case, the caller was a packing supply wholesaler in Pamlico City who had just suffered a theft of 200 cubic feet of “snow snakes.” If the caller meant to confuse Noonan, he, the caller, was unaware Noonan had Alaskan links. Everyone in Alaska knew what snow snakes were. In the Lower 48 they were known as package peanuts but the only time anyone used the term was when buying the snow snakes. The term ‘snow snake’ was so much more expressive and, frankly, the packaging material looked more small snakes than peanuts.

“What they basically did was steal $1,600 worth of snow snakes. Retail. Wholesale we’re talking $400. Maybe. Why would anyone want to steal snow snakes?”

“Well,” Noonan said suppressing a chuckle. “Maybe they were hoping to breed them and sell the offspring to pet stores.”

“VERY funny,” snapped the voice on the other end of the line. The source of the voice was Archibald Menomia – and Noonan had to have Menomia respell the name twice so Noonan could make sure the name was spelled correctly – owner of Menomia, Inc. dba Pamlico City Packaging Enterprises, LLC. Probably, Noonan speculated quietly, because people would have a hard time remembering much less spelling – worse, writing checks to – Menomia, Inc.

“My bookkeeper is a stickler for numbers,” Menomia whined. “Now I’ve got to list a $1,600 loss as theft. But, I cannot write it off without a police report.”

“So go to the Pamlico City Police and ask for a police report,” Noonan suggested. “They have jurisdiction.

“Right! They were laughing too hard to write a report,” snapped Menomia. “Said I should call you. Said you handled odd cases and, quoting one of them, ‘Whoever did this had brains the size of a BB in a boxcar.’”

Noonan was silent for a moment as he was writing in his notebook.

“Are you still there?” Menomia asked hesitantly.

“Yup, still here,” Noonan responded. “Now, let me get the facts. Someone stole 200 cubic feet of snow snakes.”

“You are familiar with the term?” Menomia was surprised.

“My wife’s Alaskan. Snow snakes are either an Alaskan tale of absurding or what are called peanut packing down here in the Lower 48.”

“I like snow snakes better. Yes, 200 cubic feet.”

“That’s a lot of snow snakes. Were they in boxes or bags?”

“Both. About five cubic feet per bag and 40 cubic feet per box. Eight bags per box. So we are talking five boxes.”

“Were they stolen out of your warehouse?”

“Not really. Only the valuable stuff is in my warehouse. The snow snakes were in a shed in the yard. There’s a fence around the yard. They came over the fence, broke into the shed, took the snow snakes and were gone.”

“How did they know the snow snakes there?”

“It’s no secret the snow snakes are stored in the shed. We warehouse them there and when someone buys snow snakes, they take delivery from the shed. They go out with the paperwork and load the snow snakes.”

“Well, if they can buy snow snakes, why steal them?”

It was a good question.

The answer was reasonable. “Probably because they are going to do something nefarious with the snow snakes and do not want a paper trail leading back to them through my company. 200 cubic feet is quite a lot. An order that large would stand out.”

“Good point. Let’s take this a step at a time. To steal the snow snakes they had to get into the warehouse yard. Does your fence have security on top of the fence as well as through the gate?”

“It doesn’t have razor wire but it does have three strands of barbed wire.”

“Any indication of how the thieves entered the warehouse yard?”

“Oh, yeah. We have them on security cameras. They pulled up outside a section of fence and three men went over the wire. Athletic types. Tossed a sheet of something over the three strands of barbed wire and then went over. Jimmied the lock on the shed and in they went. Came out with the crates and over the fence the crates went.”

Noonan thought for a moment. Then he asked, “How did the crates actually make it over the fence? Did they toss them to someone on the other side? Did any get hung up on the wires?”

“Hung up on wires? Naw. These guys were professionals. One was in the shed and he tossed a crate to someone outside the shed who tossed it to a third by guy by the fence. Then the crate went over the wire to a fourth guy who put it in a truck. Boom, boom, boom, boom. Like they had practiced it. Over the fence and five minutes later, it was all over.”

“Did they leave the sheet over the barbed wire?”

“Nope. Over and gone. Pamlico City Police tried to find some fibers or something like that. Got zip.”

“How about the truck? Did you get it on security cameras?”

“Yup. Just the truck. Red. Muddy wheel wells. Generic. No bumper stickers. No license plate, no distinguishing marks. Pamlico City cops looked at the tape too. Nothing. Zip.”

“Did the Pamlico City Police say anything?”

“Laughed a lot. Asked the same question I did. ‘Why would anyone want 200 cubic feet of snow snakes?’”

“Same question I have,” mulled Noonan. “Let me think about it for a while. I’ll get back to you.”

“But can you give me a police report?”

* * *

Pamlico City, like Sandersonville, Buxton, Hatteras and Ocracoke had all been founded by backstroke. Survivors of shipwrecks founded those cities in the 17th, 18th and 19th centuries. Individually, in groups, clothed and naked, with and without dogs, horses, pigs, and/or cats, goats and sheep. They salvaged what was left of the ships they had come on – if and when those wrecks came ashore – married one and other and into the local Indian population. Over the centuries the Outer Bankers established themselves as renegades, scofflaws and fiercely independent ‘entrepreneurs.’ They attracted the same. Century after century, the population base supported and attracted gun runners, escaped slaves, deserters from both the Union and Confederate armies, bootleggers, moonshiners and cannabis entrepreneurs. Their basic attitude was ‘We don’t care how it’s done anywhere else. We’ll do it our way. Live with it.’

Thus it was and thus it is.

Noonan knew that. He also know when it came to the unusual, the term had no real meaning on the Outer Banks. No matter how unconventional something was, someone, somewhere along the Outer Banks was seriously considering it. Unconventional was in the DNA of every Outer Banker.

Thus the theft of 200 cubic feet of snow snakes was interesting; but not surprising.

Whenever Noonan was faced with one of his loo loo calls, he knew his two greatest assets were the history of the area and the local newspapers. He was well acquainted with the history of the Outer Banks – he had been born in Frisco when the Outer Banks were known as Torpedo Alley for all of the ships being sunk by German submarines during the Second World War – because he had lived it.

So, with the history of the area secure in his mind, he began reading the local newspapers. Pamlico City only had one and it was a weekly tabloid rather than a daily. So he expanded his reading to local newspapers on both sides of Pamlico City as well as the regional magazines. As usual, he was looking for the unusual.

Again, when it came to the Outer Banks, what was unusual for what Alaskans call the Lower 48, was, on the Outer Banks, just humdrum. Alas, Pamlico City seemed to be as dull as dishwater. There was not much going on. But then again, it was not tourist season so the usual antics and exhibitions were absent. The Pamlico City Museum was under renovation, a new auto rental firm was moving into the area, a hotel was being planned for a stretch of coastline along Pamlico Sound, Pamlico City First National was installing a new vault and a jewelry chain out of Richmond was opening a satellite operation in an old restaurant.

As loo loo calls were usually rooted in the profit motive, Noonan instantly focused on the new bank vault and the jewelry satellite operation. He made preliminary calls to both the bank and jewelry satellite and was treated like a walrus at a cotillion. Neither believed he was a police officer. Neither would show him an iota of courtesy without a Pamlico City police officer and even if he came so accompanied, he would “need a warrant” to see beyond the vault room (bank) and an additional escort with a representative of the insurance company covering the jewelry inventory.

While he waited for the Pamlico City Police Department to return his calls – both of them – he took a drive to the Pamlico City Museum. There they, the director and his administrative assistant, had no problem answering Noonan’s questions as long as he paid the admittance fee. He did and, in plain sight, placed another $20 in the donation plastic cube. That did wonders with the chattiness of the director and the administrative assistant, in this case, she and her husband.

After wafting on the “unique and colorful history” of the Outer Banks in general and Pamlico City in particular, Noonan asked if the museum had any high-end valuables.

“All of our exhibits are high-end and valuable,” the director noted haughtily. “They are all irreplaceable.”

Noonan agreed and then asked about any particular items that were both irreplaceable and would command a high price on the black market. Actually, when worded that way, the director responded, there was nothing, which would have a high cash value. Noonan asked to see the security devices and the administrative assistant agreed to show him around because the “Director had a lot of important things to do today.”

Noonan was particularly interested in the renovations, which, he discovered, were a publicity sham. The “renovation” involved replacing several windows on the second floor. The museum had a security system a child could circumvent with a toothpick and the front door had a lock, which had last been oiled during the reign of Charlemagne. There was no lock on the door between the trash area and the museum. The door leading to the garage had a deadbolt with rust on it. Noonan saw nothing of street value in any alcove of the three-story structure.

The auto rental firm was pleased to show him around – “Are you sure the Sandersonville Police Department doesn’t need to rent a high-quality sedan for a man in your office?” – and gladly showed him the security of the auto yard. It was state of the art with razor wire on top of a cyclone fence, traffic spikes at the exit, three security cameras each with 180-degree vision, and a 24-hour day patrol. [“Are you sure the Sandersonville Police Department doesn’t need to rent a high-quality sedan for a man in your office?”]

The hotel on the shore of Pamlico Sound was nothing more than a chamber of commerce pipedream hope and prayer in the collective mind of several landowners who had property along the shoreline of Pamlico Sound where the hotel “ought to be” and which had not increased in value since Woodrow Wilson was President of the United States.

This left the jewelry satellite operation and the Pamlico City First National Bank. Noonan and an officer from the Pamlico Police Department visited the bank first.

“Did you find the wascally wabbits what stole those packaging peanuts?” The Pamlico City police officer, Jonathan Farrow, spoke like Elmer Fudd.

“Not yet,” Noonan replied and, without missing a beat, said “But a bit of advice for man in your profession and for your age which, I’d say, about 25. Officer Farrow, don’t ever underestimate the criminal element. There is something planned for those packaging peanuts. We just don’t know what it is yet.”

“Oh,” Farrow said in a faux serious manner, “I’m so looking forward to writing that tidbit up when I file my police report.”

The bank was in the final stage of construction with an HVAC truck in the parking lot along with wall-to-wall carpeting company vehicles, some plumbing contractors, electrician and the inevitable security specialist who was old enough to have remembered Woodrow Wilson. The specialist, Reginald Doppio, was less than enthusiastic to show Noonan – with or without an escort from the Pamlico City Police Department. He looked exactly like a security specialist, complete with the white shirt, black suit, blue tie, briefcase and oversized watch on his right wrist.

“In a nutshell,” Doppio said dryly, “Pamlico City First National may be a new bank but it has state of the art security.” He pointed to the cameras in the four corners of the main room of the lobby. “We have 24/7 coverage of the interior and double-locks on the front and side door in addition to a keypad.”

Leading Noonan and Farrow across the lobby to the opened door of the vault, he stopped for a moment and waved at one of the cameras. He drew a hand across his throat, clearly indicating to security crew that all was well. Then he put the brief case he had been carrying down so he could point around the room with both hands.  “First,” he said as he pointed up with his left hand. “We are on the first floor of a three-story building. This ceiling,” he pointed up, “has three levels of rebar. I personally oversaw the installation. No one is going to drill in from above.”

Then he pointed at the floor. “There are four tiers of rebar below the vault. Anyone who wants to drill in from below is going to have a difficult time even getting to the foundation of the building. It’s solid rock. Then they’ll have to get through the rebar and cement.”

Farrow as about to say something but Doppio stopped Farrow before he could say a word. “I don’t want anyone saying Pamlico City First National hid anything from the police. Let me show the interior of the vault.”

He picked up his brief case and lead the pair into the interior of the vault and over to a master electronic board on the back wall. There he pointed at a complex panel of dials, switches and clock faces on a master board.

“The vault door is on a time lock set from here. Once the door is closed it will take the permission of security,” he pointed at one of the cameras in the room, “to open it. Here,” he pointed, one at a time, to the security cameras in the four corners of the vault room, “We have 24/7 coverage. In addition to the cameras, and I cannot show you them, are six laser security beams. Break one beam and the alarms goes off. Additionally,” he tapped the floor with his Oxford, “there is a pressure plate under the floor. Put enough weight on the floor and an alarm goes off.”

“How much pressure are talking about,” Noonan asked. “I mean, can a bird set it off?”

Doppio smiled and shook his head humorously. “Been watching those cops and robbers movies, eh?

Yes, I saw Topkapi. Great entertainment; purely fantasy when it came to robbery. Like To Catch A Thief and The Italian Job, both of them, and Now You See Me. All fantasies. All entertaining but none of them with a stitch of possibility. In specific answer to your question, about 40 pounds. So a wandering dog won’t set it off.”

At that point, Farrow showed a scintilla of professional interest. “Just out of interest, what happens if someone gets locked in here by mistake? Once the doors closes the person will be here for quite a while. You said it had a time lock; once the door closes, that’s it. Is there enough air in here for someone to live over a weekend?”

Doppio snickered. “More movie stuff. But it’s a fair question. The official answer is our tiered security measures will make it extremely for someone to be trapped inside at all, much less over a weekend. But we are mindful strange things can happen. If someone were to become trapped in here for the weekend, yes, there is enough air for them to breathe.”

He pointed to a small vent in the wall of the vault. “Air is constantly circulating in the vault more for environmental stabilization and humidity control than for someone needing air. We need to maintain a constant temperature and humidity in the vault room. But to allay any of your fears of lawbreakers making it into the vault, as you can see the vent is too small for even a midget to crawl through. Even more important, it has two, 90-degree bends and there are three sets of crosscutting bars in the ventilation shaft itself. No one is going to be able to crawl down the ventilation shaft to rob the vault. “And,” he walked to a wall and pointed to a cross-hatch grill about the size of a tea saucer at the foot of one of the walls, “if any miscreant tries to flood the vault to disable the security system, this grille and the one on the other side of the vault,” he pointed to it, “are connected to a power vacuum device to quickly drain any liquid introduced into the vault. Air they would have plenty of but no water and, sorry, no toilet in here.”

Farrow, to Noonan’s relief, showed signs of a developing law enforcement officer. “This is all find and good, Mr., Mr., . . “

“Doppio.”

“Mr. Doppio. I don’t have a problem with the security devices. But I do have a problem with what is in here now. The bank is so new there can’t be many safety deposit boxes in use and those boxes there,” Farrow pointed to several of crates lying flat on the floor against the back corner of the vault, “are just sitting there. What’s in them?”

“Good question. The answer: money. Cash. The bank itself is not set to open for another week. If then. But the cash for day-to-day operations is already here. And insured. Now I know how your minds work, officers. Yes, there is cash in the vault in boxes but the only reason the vault is open now is to show you the guts of the operation. Once the three of us leave here, the entire security system comes on. The vault will not open again until the day before the bank actually opens for the public.”

“In fact,” Doppio said as he walked to the master board. “Unless you have any other questions, I’m going to set the lock now. I’ll meet you out there in the main room.”

Noonan and Farrow left the vault and spent the next few minutes looking at the cameras and behind the teller stations.

When Doppio joined them after locking the vault, Farrow asked. “Are you sure the alarm buttons under the teller’s booths work?” Farrow was showing all the signs of becoming quality law enforcement professional.

“Better be,” Doppio said. “We haven’t checked them yet but before the bank opens officially, yes, they will be checked. All of them. Any other questions?”

Farrow shook his head and Noonan just looked around casually as the pair left the bank.

If the security system at Pamlico City First National was impressive, that of Winston Jewelers seemed more inclined to invite robbery than prevent one. While it had a double door entryway, the safe was an upright on four legs, which were not even secured to the cement floor.

“Not yet,” Richard Lemon – of the Tuskegee Lemons he was quick to add – stated. “Right now we are in the process of converting a restaurant to a jewelry store. We have a small inventory right now,” he pointed to the safe, “and have a surveillance system in place and security patrols around the clock. The big money in jewelry, the high-end gems, are due in next week. If we’re ready for them. I am not going to move in the big-ticket items until I can be assured we are ready of them.”

Farrow continued to impress Noonan. “So you have gems on site now? In that safe?”

“Yes, but only a few.”

“How many is a few? In mean, in dollars and cents.”

“Retail, about $50,000. But they are insured. They are not mine, so to speak. They belong to the Winston Company out of Richmond. I, we, here in Pamlico City are a satellite operation. We don’t own the gems; we just sell them.”

“No offense,” Noonan said softly, “but your operation does not look very secure. You’ve got $50,000 in gems in a safe not secured to the floor. Anyone with a forklift could come crashing through a wall, lift up the safe and be off and away in no time at all.”

“Possibly,” snapped Lemon. “But if anyone tried that, the security system we have in place would have the cops on their tail in about three minutes. Our security team is on patrol at all hours. The minute the alarm goes off, they are on their way here.”

“Three minutes is a v-e-r-y long time,” cut in Farrow – to Noonan’s joy. “All the thieves would have to do was dump the safe into the back of a pickup and be gone. They are not going to be driving the forklift down the road with a safe on its forks.”

“True, true,” Lemon replied. “But I’m not worried. I’ve got a crackerjack security force and the safe,” he said as he pointed at the behemoth on the cement floor of his back room, “will be locked in cement in a week. So there’s nothing for you two gumshoes to worry about.”

From the look on Farrow’s face, it was clear he did not like the term gumshoes. Before Farrow said so, Noonan cut him off at the pass.

“Mr. Lemon, have you ever heard the story about the two priests who were standing alongside the highway with a sign reading “The End is Near?”

“Is this some kind of a fable?”

“No, it’s a parable. A fable has animals as actors; a parable uses humans.”

“Maybe a joke, then?”

“Well, we’ll see. A car whizzed by the priests and suddenly there was a loud splash. One priest turns to the other and says, ‘Maybe our sign should have read, THE BRIDGE IS OUT.’”

Lemon shook his head. “Right. Thanks for the parable. When I need your help, I’ll call. The door’s that way.”

“Friendly fellow,” Farrow said and was about to finish his sentence with an unprofessional assessment. But before he could ‘go down that road,’ the tool of Satan in his breast pocket began to vibrate. The only thing about the Beelzebubian beast, which humored Noonan, was the electronic fiend was in someone else’s pocket.

Farrow was silent for a moment and then responded with something like “Ok,” or “Uh-huh.” There was silence for a moment and then he said, “He’s right here, sir. Do you want to talk to him?” The person on the other end of the fiend apparently said ‘yes,’ because Farrow handed Noonan the tool of Satan.

“Noonan, here.”

“Captain! It’s so good to see you are helping our fellow officers!” The voice belonged to the Sandersonville Commissioner of Homeland Security, Edward Paul Lizzard III, Noonan’s boss and nemesis.

Noonan cut to the chase, “You wanted to talk to me, (pause) sir?”

“As it happens, a situation has come up here in Sandersonville which fits your expertise. Even more important, it appears related to what you are already doing in Pamlico City.”

“What exactly is that, (p-a-u-s-e) sir?”

“It has come to our attention, that is, Homeland Security, that someone has been stealing grass shanks from lawn cutting operations.”

“Shanks?”

“Shanks. Yes, that’s what I have been told they are called. Maybe leavings is a more common word. I’m not sure. You know, when you cut the grass, the upper parts of the blades of grass are collected in those canvas bags on the mower.”

“Someone is stealing the canvas bags of blades of grass?”

“Shanks, Captain, shanks. And no, not the canvas bags. The canvas bags are emptied into large garbage bags. Then the large garbage bags are left on the side of the road and at the end of the day the lawn mowing companies collect them. Seems over the past week all the bags in Sandersonville and Pamlico City have disappeared.”

“Disappeared?”

“Gone, poof, sucked to the rings of Saturn.”

“I don’t see a crime here, (p—a—u—s—e) sir.”

“Maybe and then again, maybe not. But what is interesting is who was doing the collecting. A red truck with muddy wheel wells. I called the Commissioner of Homeland Security in Pamlico City and he told me of the packaging peanut theft and the red truck with muddy wheel wells. He was pleased to tell me you were on the job. Why didn’t you tell me you were on the job in Pamlico City?”

“My cell phone is recharging.”

“Well, get it up to speed. Now, I want you to keep working with whatever his name is there in Pamlico City. And report back to me as soon as you wrap this up, hear?”

And before Noonan could respond, the line went – mercifully – dead.

* * *

“The trick to fighting crime,” Noonan said casually to Farrow as the two were seated in a booth in the Dog and Blue Crab eatery in Pamlico City, “is to be one step ahead of the perpetrators. Stupid people commit most crimes. They make mistakes and we catch them. They think they are smarter than the police. Or they do not think at all. The cleverest of criminals are called lawyers. They are hard catch and even harder to convict. But that’s above our pay grade. We’re front line folk.”

After six hours with Noonan, Farrow was getting a whole new view of law enforcement. “So,” Farrow said thoughtfully, “how do we put the pieces of this puzzle together. The only things we know for sure is someone stole a lot of package peanuts and blades of grass.”

“That’s a start,” Noonan said as he took a sip of a diet something. “The key now is to stop thinking logically. We have to do off the wall thinking. One of my favorite quotes comes from Through the Looking Glass. The Queen tells Alice “It’s a poor sort of memory that only works backwards.”

“I don’t get it,” Farrow furrowed his brow.

“We have to remember the future, Farrow. That means using the past as the key. For instance, what have other people used package peanuts for in the past? The perps didn’t steal the package peanuts on a lark. They are going to use them for something.”

“How about the grass? Grass has no value.”

“Wrong,” Noonan said softly. “It’s worth a lot of money to these folks. We just have to figure out how they are going to use the peanuts and grass together.”

“I don’t see a connection.”

“I don’t either,” Noonan said. “So let’s take a trip.”

“Really? Where?”

“Pamlico City First National and Winston Jewelers. They are the only big money stores the perps might want to hit. Let’s take a ride and think peanuts and grass. Who knows, something may pop.”

Nothing did.

Winston Jewelers had no customers the two gumshoes could see through the front window. They sat for an hour and a half and no one entered or left the business.

“Not a lot of jewelry buying individuals in Pamlico City,” Farrow commented.

“Well,” Noonan said softly. “We’re not looking at who is doing the buying. We’re hoping to see if anyone is scoping out the business. Competent perps are watchers. They know anything can happen. So they watch the target to make sure nothing unusual happens to change their plans.”

“Like cops watching the store.”

“Like cops watching the store,” Noonan agreed.

“But I don’t see anyone,” Farrow said as he looked out the back window of the car.

Noonan chuckled. “You won’t see them. They’re too good for that. If they are looking, they’ve seen us. That’s the point of being here. Letting them know we’re onto them.”

“Do you think it will work?”

Noonan shrugged. “No way to know. But this was not wasted time. Now, let’s do a slow tour of the Pamlico City First National.”

Duty at Winston Jewelry had been like watching an Alaska salmon setnet at low tide. Trying to keep track of what was what at Pamlico City First National was like following one Alaska king salmon in a stream red with a run. While the parking lot in front of the three-story structure had scattered vehicles, behind the building service vehicles were bumper to bumper. In addition to the plumbers and carpet layers were service companies ranging from HVAC to window cleaners and finish carpenters to painters.

Noonan lead Farrow up to the third floor and they walked door to door down the central hallway. This was not hard as most of the small offices had yet to get doors so they were, in actuality, going doorframe to doorframe. There were only two offices open for business, a low-budget import distributor and a photographer. Neither had a problem letting the two look over the office.

Farrow asked both entrepreneurs when they thought the building would be completely occupied. Neither knew but said all of the basics had been completed. Electrical and venting was finished, all that was left for the plumbers were the public restrooms on the second and third floor and the biggest problem now was the carpeting. On the second and third floor. The two businesses knew nothing about the bank on the first floor.

The second floor was split between a restaurant and a catering service owned by the restaurant. The manager of the operation was out of town but his bookkeeper was more than happy to answer any questions – and offered Farrow a $50 gift certificate for himself and “the men in blue in your office.” Farrow declined because the police cannot take gifts.

“Is everything ready to go?” Noonan asked Harold Geronimo, who was as white as Michael Jackson.

“Don’t I wish!” Geronimo pointed around the restaurant. “We can’t open until the carpets are laid down. That’s what’s happening now. Air conditioning is in, plumbing is complete for this floor, and electrical has been in for two weeks.” He pointed to a wall that was frame-to-frame windows. “Windows are a problem because of the city code and we’ve had health inspectors crawling through kitchen looking at every electrical, gas and water hookup. It’s a mess but we’ll open on time.”

“When’s that?” Farrow asked.

“In a week. Say next Friday. We expect to be packed. Why don’t you bring some of your friends,” Geronimo said as he pushed the gift certificate in Farrow’s way – again.   And, in one of the crevices of Noonan’s brain, a bell softly chimed.

Back in the Pamlico City Police Department patrol car, Noonan leaned toward Farrow and said, “I hope you don’t have anything planned for the next few nights.”

Farrow gave him an odd look. “For police business?” “For police business,” Noonan said flatly. “Bring backup and five sets of cuffs.”

* * *

“Well, well, well,” Noonan’s administrative assistant, Harriet, said when she saw Noonan come in at noon on Monday. “Look what the cat dragged in.”

“Been busy,” Noonan told her. “I had to go to Pamlico City with Commissioner Lizzard for a press conference.”

“His majesty,” she said with a sharp edge, “can’t speak for himself. He usually does. (pause) Too often. (pause) And too loud.”

“He had to share the podium with the Pamlico City Commissioner of Homeland Security. They both took credit for the arrests and dumped the details on me and Farrow.”

“Farrow?”

“Officer Farrow of the Pamlico City Police Department. I had to explain balancing to the press and Farrow got to detail how the robbery occurred.”

“Let me guess,” snapped Harriet. “Then the two commissioners cut in and took credit for orchestrating the arrest.”

“Yup. You have been here before.”

“How did you know the bank was going to be robbed? And when?” Harriet leaned against Noonan’s desk.

“Simple. We visited the bank, Farrow and I, twice. Both times there was an HVAC service vehicle behind the building . . .”

“HVAC?”

“Heating, Ventilating and Air Conditioning.”

“So?”

“According the businesses in the building, the HVAC services were complete. So what were the HVAC people doing there?”

“I don’t know. Don’t keep me in suspense. What were the HVAC people doing?”

“Person. It was one-person operation. The owner was out of town and his assistant was doing the work. She was a balancer with a record.”

“Again, the balancer. What’s a balancer?”

“A balancer is a technician who makes sure the heat and air conditioning are the same for all floors. If you blast hot air into a building on the main floor, the heat will rise. As the day progresses, the top floors will get hotter and hotter while the bottom offices get cooler and cooler. So a balancer makes certain all floors have the same temperature of air. Maybe it means more heat for the top floors and less for the bottom ones during winter and the reverse during the summer.”

“So?”

“So, what was the HVAC person doing if the heating and ventilation systems were already up and running?”

“And the answer?” Harriet let the question hang.

“I didn’t have an answer until I looked up HVAC on the internet. Then things got clear. The one way into the bank vault that could not be stoppered was through the heating and ventilation system. Once the building was closed for the night, the perps blasted snow snakes and grass . . .”

“Snow snakes?”

“You call them packaging peanuts down here.”

“Grass?”

“The perps had been stealing cut grass in the garbage bags left on the street for pickup. You know, the lawn people cut the grass with mowers. Then they put the cut grass in garbage bags and leave them beside the road. Later in the day someone comes along and collects all the garbage bags. Someone had been stealing the bags. The same people had stolen the packaging peanuts.”

“What did they do with them? The peanuts and the grass, I mean. And what does any of this have to do with a balancer.”

“The perps blasted the grass and packaging peanuts into the bank vault.’

“What good did that do?”

“The vault has security cameras inside and the grass coated the lenses. The vault also had an alarm based on a web of laser beams. There were so many packaging peanuts in the vault the laser beam web had to be turned off.”

“So? How did the thieves get into the vault?”

“Simple. The security expert let them in. As soon as the grass shards and packaging peanuts blasted into the vault, the laser beam alarm went off. The security people could not see through the blades of grass on the lenses so they needed the security specialist to open the door and personally check on the vault. They didn’t think a robbery had taken place because the entire building, all three floors, had an invasion of grass and snow snakes.”

“So the security guru had to take a look see.”

“Yup. He came in with the thieves as part of his team. He opened the door and showed the security crew on his cell phone there was no one in vault.”

“Then the thieves just went in and looted the vault?”

“Ah, that was what made the plan clever. The floor was sensitive to weight so the thieves could not walk into the vault and get the cash in crates. If they had walked across the floor, the weight would have set off another alarm. They would have told the security people a robbery was taking place. So the perps dragged the crates across the floor. The weight of the crates was spread out by the layers of packaging peanuts.”

“But if they could not get across the floor to get to the crates, how’d they drag the crates out?”

“Cleverly. The last time the security expert was in the vault, he attached a sling on each of the boxes and then dragged the ropes connecting the slings to the back of the vault door. That way, when he and the thieves opened the door to supposedly check on the security of the vault, they simply pulled the crates with money across the packaging peanuts.”

“But why didn’t the security camera pick up the security guy putting on the slings in the first place?”

“Very good question. The answer: Farrow and I were in the vault on that last inspection tour. When Farrow and I went in with him, the security expert indicated the surveillance cameras should be shut off. They were. Then, after Farrow and I left the vault, the security expert put on the slings. It would only have taken him a minute or two. Then he shut off the lighting for the vault and walked the ropes attaching the slings to the back of the vault door. The security cameras could not pick up the dark ropes against the dark floor. The ropes were invisible to both the security cameras and the eyes of the security people.”

“Well, you wrapped it up nicely.”

“No, Farrow did. He snagged the perps as they were leaving the bank.”

“I hope he gets a promotion.”

“P-l-e-a-s-e! He got to stand like a redwood behind the commissioners and nod as they took all the credit for the arrests. According to the commissioners, they were onto the theft from the very beginning – according to them.”

“According to them?”

“You can’t argue with a boss. Farrow and I did the work, the commissioners got the credit. The People of Sweat doing the job and the People of Show taking the credit. It’s the same the whole world over.”

“Well, you should get credit. You did the work.”

“Farrow should have. The crime happened on his turf.”

“Oh, that was terrible. Do you have any other grass jokes?”

“Why did the blades of grass cross the road?”

“I thought it was the chicken who crossed the road. OK, why?”

“To get to the other sod.”