14th Deadly Sin (Women's Murder Club 14)

Please, Donna, don’t come into the store.

One of the fucking armed robbers complained, “Hey. We don’t need no steenking light, man.”

“I have to see so I can open the safe,” Blau said. “Believe me, I want you out fast. I’m happy to give you the money, all right? Just trust me, OK? I’m working with you.”

Blau didn’t wait for a reply. He walked deliberately and quickly past the block of folding chairs, all the way to the back of the store where the lines were painted on the floor, delineating aisles leading to the teller windows. Next to the windows, on the far right side of the wall, was the security door that divided the store into the public space and the office area behind it.

The safe was in the office. Blau turned his back to the robbers to open the door, telling those shits, “After I give you the money, you can go out the back door. Be safer for you.”

The men, maybe they were boys, the way they were all jumpy, were crowding into the office area with him. One of them, the smallest pig, was getting anxious, looking around, saying “Let’s go let’s go let’s go.”

Blau turned his eyes away from the credenza where he kept the shotgun and pointed out the wooden cabinet below the counter.

“The safe’s in here,” he said.

The one who had been saying “Let’s go” was now saying “Come on come on come on.”

Blau’s hands were out of control. He could barely hold a key, and both the key and the cabinet lock were small. He poked at the lock until he finally got the key into it, turned it, and opened the lower cabinet where he kept the old cast-iron safe. Taking no chances, he angled his body so they could see the safe and said to one of the boys, “You’re in my light.”

He tried not to look at the kid, give him any sense whatsoever that he knew who he was, but his mind was running through the faces of all the kids, white, black, Latino, who came into this place to cash checks. His tellers talked to them. The transactions were brief. The only time he ever talked to a customer was when there was a problem.

“Step on it, Daddy,” said a guy with a gun.

Blau said, “I am stepping on it.”

He went for the safe with both hands, but at the last minute, he pressed the silent alarm, a button right under the lip of the cabinet. Then he turned the knurled knob of the safe. He knew the combination as well as he knew his own birthday, but he accidentally went past the second number and had to start over.

The kid standing closest to him put the muzzle of his gun right next to Blau’s temple and said, “You have till the count of three.

“One …”

That was when a lot of things happened at once.

The combination lock clicked into place and Blau swung the safe door open. The guys in the police Windbreakers focused on the envelopes of money inside the safe. And the front door of the shop was kicked open.

Cops swarmed in, yelling “Everyone freeze! Hands in the air!”

Blau crouched behind the counter and covered his head. He jerked with the sound of every cracking gunshot. And there were a lot of them.

“Please, God,” he prayed, “make this all stop.”

CHAPTER 33

BY THE TIME Conklin and I arrived at the Cash ’n’ Go, Market Street looked like Red Hot Sales Day at a used-car lot. I counted a dozen cruisers with every grille and cherry light flashing, two ambulances parked down the block on Sixteenth, the ME’s van pulling in, and the CSU mobile blocking the view of the store.

That must’ve been a disappointment to the many bystanders behind the barrier tape, crowding the sidewalks on both sides of the narrow street. But then a chopper appeared overhead, guaranteeing live pictures on Eyewitness News.

Windbreaker Cops Strike Again.

My partner and I left our car up on the curb between a Jilly’s Gym and the Third Hand Rose Consignment Shoppe and walked toward Swanson and Vasquez, our superstar Robbery squad partners also working this case.

They were standing outside the Cash ’n’ Go. After a couple of days canvassing the area around Mercado de Maya with them, I’d found Swanson both efficient and kind. Vasquez was easygoing, and the pair of them were very professional.

I had to admit that Brady had made a good call putting them and their four men on the Windbreaker cop detail.

Vasquez smiled, relief written all over his face, saying, “I got my witnesses in the car. Taking the Blaus back to the house to take their statements. Then I’m gonna go out with my lady and celebrate.”

After some fancy wheel work, Vasquez peeled off, and Swanson said to us, “Three John Does are down inside the store, all wearing Windbreakers, none of them breathing.”