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“That’s why we brought it,” Bob said. “The code looks good. Paul is looking good.”
Sue said, “Okay, I guess,” picked up her purse, dug into it, and handed Baxter an envelope. “Five thousand dollars. There’ll be ten more when SlapBack goes down.”
“Pleasure doing business with you,” Baxter said. He stood up, tucked the envelope in his back pocket and said to Letty, “Let’s get the drums back in the truck and get the fuck outa here.”
“Leave the drums,” Able said. “That was a great jam this afternoon. I’d like to do it again. Maybe a few times. You’ll be back to pick up the next payment, anyway. Lots of righteous stuff could get done, if you stick around.”
“Like what?” Letty asked.
“I dunno,” Able said. “Like getting Donald Trump completely offline, forever?”
“A worthy goal, if you’re into charity,” Baxter said. “I’d like something with a few more bucks attached.” He ran a hand through his gel-slicked hair, wiped the hand on his pants, and looking at Letty, said, “Instead of moving the drums, let’s leave them here and go find a better motel. One that doesn’t smell like the toilet is broke.”
“Not until we get more cash,” Letty said. She looked at Bob and Sue and said, “We’re trying to get in touch with Ordinary People. We’ve been told that they moved a lot of money through Bitcoin and didn’t get caught doing it. We need some ideas about that. We’ve got a half-million bucks hung up in a Bitcoin wallet and we think the feds are looking at it.”
Bob shook his head. “Can’t help you with that.”
“Are you Ordinary People?”
“Ordinary People isn’t a thing, like a company,” Bob said. “It’s more like a... cloud. We’ve been in the cloud and we’ve been out of it. It moves.”
“That helps a lot,” Baxter said, sounding discouraged.
“Tell us the problem with the wallet,” Sue said. “We’ll talk to some friends, see if anything might be done. I doubt it, but we’ll ask the experts.”
Baxter outlined the problem and answered questions. Letty limped down to the music area, got her cane and purse, and when Baxter was done, she said, “Pie ’n Burger and you need some sleep.”
“Meet you back here tomorrow, same time,” Bob said. “We’ll either have your ten thousand or we won’t.”
Baxter: “We’ll keep an eye on SlapBack.”
Outside, Baxter said,“Want to try to spot their car?”
“Yes. Let’s figure out how...”
Baxter drove them to the end of the block, past an alley that ran from the next block east. Letty said, “There: the banana tree.”
“That’s a banana tree? Looks like an ancient Egyptian fan. Like on hieroglyphs.”
“Your mind is like a garbage dump,” Letty said. “It’s a banana tree. Keep going, in case they’re watching us.”
Baxter continued north to Melrose Avenue, as they talked about what to do, turned east, took the next turn south, back to the alley. Letty jumped out of the truck, taking the camera bag with her, said, “Stay on your phone,” and jogged down the long alley to the street that Able’s house was on.
The banana tree grew at the corner of an apartment building. She slipped behind the tree, where she couldn’t be easily seen, but could see the front of Able’s place.
She didn’t have to wait long. Bob and Sue stepped out of Able’s building and turned toward her, adjusting masks and sunglasses. They strolled the block and a half to Melrose, taking their time, looking around, passing fifty feet from her hiding place, and turned the corner.
Letty called Baxter: “They’re out. They’re walking toward you down Melrose.”
Baxter, two blocks east, parked outside a CVS pharmacy, said, “I see them. They’re crossing the street, they’re crossing Melrose. They’ll be going the other way. They’re getting in a car... uh, I think a van. Yeah, a blue van.”
Letty stepped out from behind the banana tree and ran to a Starbucks café that had a covered patio on the corner. Standing behind a support pillar, she spotted the blue van pulling out of a parking place on Melrose. She took photos with the GX8 as the vanapproached and then as it drove past her. When she could no longer see the rear license plate, she called Baxter and said, “Come down the alley and get me.”
“On the way.”
When Baxter picked her up, Letty chimped through the images on the GX8: she had clear shots of the van’s plates.
“So that’s two,” she said. “Two Ordinary People in the bag.”
