Hands, feet, chest... I feel nothing. In fact, when I go to open the door, my hands are so sweaty, and the handle is so cold, that I think I'll stay welded to it. My stomach is imploring me to stop, but it's too late, the door is opening.
"About time," Mary says as she enters The Cage. You had me worried, Oliver.
"Are you kidding me?" -I ask; I smile, sending eager greetings to the four other office mates who look up as I cross the carpet. I still have three…" The door closes behind me and the noise startles me. I almost forgot... in The Cage the door closes automatically.
-You are well? asks Mary, immediately switching to mother hen.
"Yes…of course," I say, struggling to keep my composure. She was saying… that we still have at least three minutes left…
"And at worst, you can always do it yourself, right?"
As she asks the question, she removes a small smudge from the glass of her eldest son's photograph. The one that hides the password...
"Listen, about Tanner Drew…" I implore. I shouldn't... I'm sorry...
"I'm sure you're sorry." He lowers his head, refusing to look at me. There is no doubt, she is about to explode. But suddenly her high-pitched laugh pierces the room. Then Polly, who sits next to Mary, joins her. Then Francine does. They all laugh. Come on, Oliver, we're just kidding," Mary finally adds with a huge smile on her lips.
"¿Aren't you mad at me?" "Honey, you did your best."
you could do with what you had... but if I ever find you using my password again...
I cringe slightly, waiting for the rest of the threat.
Mary smiles again.
"It's a joke, Oliver…a smile won't kill you." She—she takes the pile of abandoned beads from my hands and hits me on the chest with them. You take things too seriously, you know that?
I try to answer, but no sound comes out. I only see the forms as they wave in the air.
Mary turns to her computer and places the stack of documents on the clipboard attached to her monitor. She knows what the deadline is. There is no time to lose. Fortunately, the transfers are already entered, she only has to include the destination of each of them.
"I don't understand why the state keeps this money," she adds when she opens the file for Abandoned Accounts. She personally would prefer they go to charity...
She says something else, but is drowned out by the blood rushing from my ears. On screen, a $20,000 account is trapped in the New York Unclaimed Funds Division. Then one for three hundred and one dollars. Then one for twelve thousand dollars. One after another, Mary makes her way through the stack of bills destined for the state. One after another, she hits the Send button.
"So, I think you'll be able to steal it," Mary says finally.
I feel a hot pang in my legs, as if someone is driving a knife into my thigh.
I can barely stay on my feet. -As you say?
"I said we could go on that ski trip," says Mary. Justin's knee isn't as bad as we thought. He—he turns and surprises me by wiping the sweat from my brow. Are you sure you're okay, Oliver?
"Yeah, sure," I reply. It's just one of those days.
"It seems more like one of those years with the way you run around all day. I'm warning you, Oliver, if you don't start taking it easy, the people here will kill you.
You can't argue with the facts.
Mary is turning the pages; she finally gets to transfer four hundred thousand dollars to someone named Alexander Reed. I expect her to comment on the number, but by now she's used to it. She sees him every day.
And I also. Checks worth hundreds of thousands of dollars... finding decorators for their Tuscany villas... the dessert chef at L'Aubergine who knows exactly the crumbly consistency they like in their chocolate soufflé. It's a nice life. But it's not mine.
It takes Mary a total of ten seconds to type in the account number and hit Submit. Ten seconds. Ten seconds to change my life. It's what my father always searched for, but he could never find. Finally... a way out.
Mary licks her fingertips, turns to the second page in the stack, then lowers her fingers to her keyboard. Here it is: Duckworth and Sunshine Distributors.
-What are you doing this weekend? I ask in a fast voice.
—Well, the same as every weekend of the last month; trying to outdo all my relatives by buying them better gifts than they bought me.
The name of our bank in London appears on the screen. C.M.W. Walsh Bank.
"That sounds great," I say vaguely.
Digit after digit, the account number follows.
-That sounds great? Mary laughs. Oliver, you really need to get out more.
The cursor moves to the "Submit" button and I start to say goodbye. I could still stop it, but...
The "Send" icon flashes, turns negative, and then reappears. The words are very small, but I know them like the big E on the eye doctor's chart:
"Status: Pending."
"Status: Approved."
"Status: Paid."
"Listen, I have to go back to my office...
"Don't worry," Mary says without even turning around. I can finish it from here.
As she stared at her computer screen and ran her tongue over a sore on the inside of her lower lip, she had no choice but to admit it, she never thought Oliver was capable of it. Charlie, maybe. But not Oliver. True, he did show moments of greatness at times...the Tanner Drew incident had been the most recent...but deep down, Oliver Caruso was still as scared as the day he started working at Greene & Greene.
However, the proof was there, and at this point everything seemed to indicate that the cake was about to be shipped to London, England. Using the same technique, he knew Shep used, he searched for Martin Duckworth's account and examined the column marked "Current Activity". The last entry "Account Balance at C.M.W. Walsh Bank", was still marked as "Pending". It wouldn't be long now.