Bank Robbers (32 page)

Arthur's chin was leaning on the palm of his hand, his elbow resting on the table, and he was grinning at this tough woman, trying to remember exactly how he had come to know Fred Newhouse.

“I … I just don't understand why you did this, Mrs. Newhouse. Quite frankly, it puts me in a very strange position. I mean, I've been a criminal lawyer in the state of New York for almost twenty-five years now, and I can tell you, I have defended a lot of guilty people and we claimed they were innocent. I have never had to claim someone I knew was innocent, as guilty.”

“Yeah, well, now you get to,” Teresa began. “Now, sit down and listen.” She began and Sid sank down into a chair. Teresa leaned forward.

“First of all, I will cop a plea; I wouldn't want you to look insane or something, because they do have the tape. But if I agree to cop a plea, I want a stipulation in it, is that the right word?” She looked at Sid, who nodded. “Good, I seen that on
L.A. Law,
” she said aside to Dottie, who just nodded. Teresa stood up and began walking around the table.

“Okay, the stipulation is, I wanna be sent to that place in Danbury, Connecticut, the one Leona Helmsley got, you know? The one with the garden, and the lawn, and them big color television sets—and … I want the same room. You got it?”

“But I can't—”

“Sssh! I ain't finished. Secondly, you tell them district attorneys that if they don't agree to this, I'm gonna do a number on the six-o'clock news gonna fill that courtroom. Next, I wanna call a news conference, as soon as possible … and I wanna to be on ‘Phil Donahue,' and ‘Oprah.'”

“What about ‘Geraldo'?” Dottie threw in.

“He's a jerk.” Teresa sniffed.

“And what are you going to say?” Arthur asked slowly.

“I'm gonna tell them that my doctor wants to biopsy a lump in my breast for cancer and do a radical mastectomy, but there's another procedure that's experimental that I could try. Then I'm gonna tell them that Medicaid won't pay for the procedure I want 'cause it ain't on some list, even though it would be cheaper for all us honest citizens”—Teresa was looking straight at Dottie, who had gasped at mention of the breast cancer and was now listening seriously to all of her reasons for confessing to the crime. Teresa nodded to her and then began walking around the table.

“And I wouldn't have to be in the hospital, and the recovery could be easier. Then I wanna talk about how Medicaid didn't pay for some procedures that coulda made my husband more comfortable, so we had to spend our whole savings on hospital bills, and how Social Security has now cut me off because they won't give survivors' benefits until a person is sixty, and how I'm gonna lose my apartment—”

“And what does this have to do with bank robbery?” Sid asked.

“These are my motives—what, are you stupid?” Teresa looked incredulous.

“But you didn't even commit the crime!” he yelled.

Sid shook his head, as did Dottie and Arthur, and they all stared transfixed at Teresa.

“So what? Now, I want a news conference, and that should take care of you going to all the trouble of planting stories and all that other bull. You go tell the DA that it's the prison in Danbury, with Leona Helmsley's room, or they ain't got a deal. And tell them that if they don't send me in, I'll rob another bank.”

“Why?” Sid's voice was thin now.

“Why? Why? Because they put me and Fred through hell over his cancer treatment, and them bastards in the government are gonna pick up the
whole
bill this time, that's why. And because I could see myself lying in a nice clean infirmary where I don't gotta do no cooking or cleaning for myself, and I could be looking out on trees and grass while I'm recuperating, that's why.”

“What if you die? You want to die in jail?” Arthur prodded.

Teresa gave a smug laugh. “I ain't gonna die. I'm too mean.”

They were all silent, and Teresa stared at Sid.

“It doesn't seem unreasonable, Sid,” Arthur began.

“Ain't it okay? Now, you let me and Dottie come up with the statement, just so I know the fine details of the thing, and I'll confess to the rafters. And that's what I want from you, lawyer.”

They were all quiet.

Arthur cleared his throat and leaned forward. “And us, what do you want from us?” he asked firmly.

A slow, sly smile drew across Teresa's face, and she placed her hands on her hips and looked straight at him.

“I want fifty thousand, in cash, in a safety-deposit box for when I get out, and you will never hear it cross my lips she was the one did the crime.”

Sid's mouth dropped open, Arthur whistled low, and Dottie kept her stare.

“You're blackmailing them on top of this?”

“Well, I gotta get something outta this, don't I?”

“I can't listen to any more…” Sid shook his head.

“Forty-eight,” Dottie said evenly.

“Fifty-two,” Teresa said quickly.

“You just said fifty,” Arthur interjected. “And you already confessed to the crime. What if we turn around and refute your story in the press?”

Teresa tossed her head back and gave a raspy chortle. “You ain't ever gonna do that.”

“Why not?” Arthur asked.

“Because she's fallen back in love with you in the past six days, and judging from the fact that you're sitting here like a pigeon, you probably, for reasons I can't begin to understand, have fallen back in love with her. You ain't gonna let her confess to no crime so she can go sit in prison. That's why she didn't come forward two days ago.”

Arthur let out a laugh and then conceded with a shrug.

“This is insane,” Sid began, and there was a knock and they all silently watched Sid walk to the door. His secretary whispered something, and they heard Sid say, “What?” in an alarmed tone. He turned back to the others and quickly excused himself and left, shutting the door behind him. Outside they could hear the voices of Teresa's children as they descended upon Sid. Dottie and Arthur looked back at Teresa.

“You are just unbelievable—” Dottie began.

“Hey, hey, now, I ain't so bad. I am fully prepared to do time for you so you can go off with him,” Teresa said, blinking, and somewhat confused by Dottie not seeing what a golden opportunity she was being handed.

“So what do you get out of this? Besides a jail term?” Arthur asked.

“What do I get? A piece of the money, so when I do get out, I will have a little something. I get that the government will have picked up the tab for this breast thing. I get to be on television, I get to meet people … I had my man, and my home and my life, and that made me happy. And now that's over, but I'm too young to just go sit in some home somewhere. I ain't afraid of some jail in Danbury, Connecticut, for Christ's sake, I'm afraid of spending my life sitting in some home in Florida because I ain't got the money to do what I want, and I gave up. I need to find out what I want to do. And as crazy as it sounds, this might give me the chance. Is that so bad?”

Arthur looked at Dottie, who slowly shook her head. They were all silent again.

“So … where do you want the fifty grand deposited?” Arthur asked finally.

“Fifty-two.” Teresa said.

“Forty-nine,” Dottie bid.

“Fifty-one,” Teresa said, leaning forward, and waited for Dottie's next bid.

The door opened and Sid walked in stiffly. He shut the door behind the prying eyes of Teresa's children.

“Sid?” Arthur said, looking at him concerned. Dottie stared at his face, a little pale and angry-looking as he stormed over to the bookcase.

“Just be quiet and listen.” He snapped on the radio to WINS.

“—at nine forty-five this morning. An FBI spokesman issued the following statement…” There was a scant pause and then a voice with a heavy New York accent began.

“In light of these new developments, charges of robbery will be dropped against Mrs. Newhouse until such time as we can either verify Mrs. Newhouse's role, if any, in the robbery on Friday, or until we can prove Mrs. Newhouse is shielding someone else.”

“Could the robbery this morning be a copycat crime?” A voice asked.

“With all the press coverage and publicity over the past several days, we cannot rule that out. In either case, we will be keeping a close eye on Mrs. Newhouse.”

“Is the federal government planning to file any charges of filing a false report, or, say, obstruction of justice against Mrs. Newhouse?”

“We will consider charges of filing a false report. Unless, as I said, we find out she's shielding someone; then of course we'll file obstruction charges.”

“What is going on?” Dottie asked, and found her eyes darting nervously at the door.

“It seems a woman wearing a blue suit and a large veiled hat held up a Citibank on Flatbush Avenue at nine forty-five this morning, while we were all in the courthouse.”

“What?”

“You've inspired a protégée,” Arthur quipped.

“Oh my God.”

Sid turned and furiously slammed his fist on the tabletop. “All right! I've had enough of all of this! Just once, one of you tell me the truth here. Now, who is
this
woman?”

Dottie's shook her head and glanced at Teresa, who was just as dumbfounded.

“I don't know.”

“Oh, come off it! You lied to me about her,” Sid yelled at Dottie and pointed at Teresa. “And then you lied about committing the robbery to the cops! I look like an idiot here, ladies! Now tell me, who is she?”

“Lower your voice—I don't know.” Teresa snapped.

Sid glared at Dottie.

“She's not with
us.
” Dottie sniffed.

“What do you think, we've recruited every disgruntled senior citizen in New York, Sid?” Arthur asked.

“It's beginning to seem that way to me. So, none of you knows this woman in Brooklyn?”

Sid looked at Arthur, who shook his head. “Must be an independent bank robber.”

The muscles on Sid's jaw tightened. He was not taking this well. “Great! Just great. Okay, that's it then. I guess you can go. There's nothing more to be done today. Where will I be able to get in touch with you, in case they do decide to file charges?”

Teresa was silent. Dottie glanced at Teresa for a second, then, startled, looked back at her face. Teresa's eyes stared blankly at the tabletop. Behind the sadness, Dottie could see the desperation she knew so well. The pain of the thought, How am I going to
live?

In one sentence, it was as if someone had sucked the life energy out of Teresa.

“You can contact her through me, Sid,” Arthur said, as he stood up. “We might as well settle the fees.”

“Fine,” Sid said stiffly and walked to the door, followed by Arthur. He turned to Dottie and Teresa. In the waiting room they could hear the sounds of Teresa's children—of applause, of anger, jokes—all in reaction to the news on the radio.

“Should I let them in?” Sid asked, his hand on the doorknob.

Teresa stared dully and Dottie could see her eyes beginning to get red.

Dottie looked at him. “Give us a minute.”

Sid nodded and left. Dottie kept her eyes silently on her.

Teresa tiredly shook her head. At last her eyes rose and met Dottie's.

“Teresa,” Dottie said gently, “it's okay, it's good news.”

“Yeah,” she replied wanly.

“You don't have to go to jail now.”

“Yeah,” she murmured.

They sat in silence, and Teresa slowly shook her head.

“What am I going to
do?
” she asked, her eyes forlornly searching Dottie's.

“Well, we march down to Medicaid—”

“Aw, Christ! They'll just throw me out again. Nobody gives a damn about some broke woman with a lump in her breast. Nobody gives a good goddamn. You know where I'm gonna wind up? Sitting in some woman's house in Florida till I can't sit up for myself. And then…” Her voice cut off bitterly. She stood up.

“No. No, you won't,” Dottie said determinedly.

*   *   *

A
RTHUR
and Dottie insisted that Teresa go home with them until she decided what she wanted to do. Arthur staved off all objections from her children and, kissing Dottie in the lobby, went off to get the car.

Dottie took Teresa by the arm and led her out of the building. The day was bright and sunny, though it was the first truly chilly day of the season. Dottie shivered in the too-thin coat she'd thrown on, and felt Teresa shiver beside her. They walked to the corner, and Dottie looked for Arthur and the car.

“There she is!” someone yelled, and suddenly newspeople swarmed around them. Lights from cameras blazed, making Dottie squint and hold a hand over her eyes. Questions were shouted, as the press began to push closer and closer. Dottie nervously looked around for Arthur. At last she saw the Ford drive up and she grabbed Teresa's arm and began to pull her through the crowd, trying her best to ignore the shouting men and women.

“Why did you confess?”

“Tell us what went through—”

“Did you think—”

Teresa and Dottie stepped off the curb.

“… some senile old woman. Who cares…” The voice cackled and laughed and came through loud and strong. The end of the snide remark echoed against Dottie's spinal cord. She dropped Teresa's arm and spun around.

“
WHO SAID THAT
?” she demanded. “Which one of you IMBECILES said that?” she barked, her hands on her hips.

She watched the men and women, so full of bravado a moment before, stand foolishly silent, hands limply holding pads or microphones or cameras. They all took a gigantic step back, giving Dottie a wide berth and leaving the two women at the hub of the circle of press.