The Matter of the Vanishing Greyhound
Golden Gate Disappearing Greyhound Bus Caper
Master of the Impossible Crime
If there was anything positive to be said about the six hours Greenleaf and the others spent in the abandoned butcher’s shop it was everyone got a stinging introduction to group therapy. It started with everyone talking about their kids and spouses. Then the conversation went foul and everyone began to beef about their current conditions. Several hostages sat stony-faced as the remaining hostages talked about some of their experiences, none of them at the bank. Over the course of the past few hours they all learned Freesia had spent one night of the previous week in a car with an old boyfriend at Beluga Point and “Nothing happened, I swear it,” she said. “He’s got a girlfriend.”
“Then what were you doing with him out there?” asked Greenleaf.
“We were just talking,” Freesia had replied.
Most of the men snickered and none of the women believed her.
Several of the women talked about their children and one man told a story of how he had become lost on a fishing trip in Eastern Washington and almost been eaten by a bear. The branch manager told a story about his first day on the job as branch manager and everyone listened politely with “This is bull” written all over their faces.
The talk at up about two hours. The following five hours were spent in virtual silence with most of the hostages either sitting on the metal chairs staring at each other or walking the room looking over each wall as if this was the first time they had seen it and were testing it for weakness.