Driving Miss Daisy - S01 E22

2 days ago

Driving Miss Daisy - S01 E22

Read Story: SEASON 1 EPISODE 22

The phone vibrated at 7:18, shortly after sunset. The number showed it was Tom's cell calling. Leaving my car in the street I walked across the lawn to the driveway. A minute later I stepped Into the back door. "What the hell did I give her, John? She had barely finished her wine when her head went down onto her chest."

"I used to work in an office complex with a bunch of small businesses. We had our own mall room and I got to know the guy who ran it quite well. When I asked him what could get he told me that sometimes the old solutions are the best. He gave me a bottle of knockout drops-chloral hydrate." Sure enough, we found her still slouched in her chair in the living room.

Working together, we carried her upstairs to the bedroom. "Where's her computer, Tom? I'll leave you to get her into whatever she wears to bed."

"Down the hall to the left-third door on the right." I nodded and walked out and downstairs to retrieve my laptop and backpack. In it I had several sets of vinyl exam gloves. I didn't want to leave any fingerprints or DNA and so far hadn't touched anything inside the house other than Margaret's arms.

I found the room easily and booted up the desktop immediately. It was old, with Windows 7 which would make my job even easier. I found the password program and was about to hack into it when I noticed a small leather-bound notebook in a corner of the desk blotter. Tom was right-written in bold black marker was the program name and the word "password" with a fifteen alphanumeric line of characters. The program opened immediately upon entering the expression.

In the list of password-protected sites I easily found Vanguard, Fidelity, and T. Rowe Price along with two other no-load funds. I was into the first site and was tempted to take the first steps to sell the entire holding. Instead, I decided to wait until Tom was safely at work so any suspicion would be pointed away from him. I was into the third site when Tom walked into the room.

"I hope she'll believe when I tell her that she was ill tonight."

"According to my source she'll have a headache to end all headaches when she wakes up tomorrow. I anticipate that the sales will be complete by this time tomorrow so I'll start moving the money the following day while you're at work or on your way to Canada.. I don't have to be here for that. All I need is your IP address and your internet provider. I'll probably take care of it while seated at Starbucks or some restaurant like Burger-FI, III move the money all around the globe. Once I put it into Russia, Switzerland, and the Caymans it will be completely untraceable."

I spent the next half hour working out the details for selling roughly 3.7 million dollars of what Margaret thought of as her money although she had done nothing to earn it. Daisy had told me how she had bragged about never working even a single day in her entire life. "How often does she look at these investments, Tom?"

"I think only at the end of the quarter when she gets the quarterly reports. I know that she updates the number of shares and the share price on a spreadsheet she had me make for her in Excel."

"That's good. You'll be long gone by then. Did you tell her that you had to go to Montreal?"

"Yeah, I did, even asking her if she would remove my cock cage so I could go through security at the airport. She told me I could drive; it wasri't coming off, so I guess I'll have to drive there and remove it in a men's room on the way."

"Just don't let her find the extra key.

"I won't, it's in my safe at work."

"Have you decided where you want to go?"

"I'm thinking Montenegro... in Europe. It's centrally located in Europe and there's no extradition treaty with the U.S. in case that becomes an issue. Think I can get a new identity there?"

"I do. As they say-money talks. Get yourself a good attorney and explain that you're hiding from a wife who tortured you. Keep the cock cage and photos of your body so he or she can see the whip marks. I think they'll be persuasive. Although, I don't think it will be necessary if I handle things correctly here. In the meantime, I'll have the company send you money to set up shop until Sergei is able to join you. Once you're settled you'll be able to access your money. It'll be in a numbered account in Switzerland then, transferred from the Central Bank of Russia. They will naturally assume that it belongs to a Russian and since you will never visit

them they'll really be convinced. I'll handle that transaction in

person claiming to be an American investment counselor working

for a Russian industrialist. Believe it or not, I have done this once before-with my own funds."

"You're a good friend, John. I've dreamed of this day for years, but I had no idea how I could survive...no idea how I could get away from her."

"I'm glad to help. It's the least I could do to the bitch who tried to ruin my life. Okay, let's check out the safe. I'll have to try a few different approaches. Some of these require that you turn the dial different number of revolutions for each succeeding number of the combination."

It took me five tries, but I did get it open. Boy, did we get a surprise! Inside were boxes of Krugerrands-gold coins, each an ounce valued at more than $1,200 each, minted in the Republic of South Africa. Tom counted them while I checked their value on the internet. Reluctantly, we replaced them. Had they been U.S. dollars we could have taken them, but selling Krugerrands-more than $60,000 worth-would attract too much attention and neither of us wanted to be arrested for grand larceny. I had all the information I needed so I left by the back door, walking in the darkness to my car just after 10:30. I was back in my hotel room less than thirty minutes later.

I emailed Sara-"All going well. Client well satisfied. Should be able to return by Friday, latest. Can I see you over the weekend? John." A quick shower later I slid between the sheets for a good night's sleep.

I had an excellent breakfast in the hotel's dining room the following morning. I waited until ten o'clock then drove to the Naismith Basketball Hall of Fame. I paid $23.00 for my ticket and wandered around for more than an hour, enjoying the sight of the players and coaches I remembered from my youth. I often recalled my dad telling me about when the New York Knicks had their golden years in the late sixties and early seventies when they won their only two championships. I left just after noon after asking at the information desk for the nearest Starbucks. There I ordered a hot chocolate and a small box of fruit. I only drank coffee in the morning. At this hour the restaurant was almost deserted so had no trouble finding a table at the rear where I sat with my back to the wall.

It was a breeze entering the internet service provider and keying in

the O'Neill's IP address. From there I began the sales I had Investigated last night, cleaning out each and every account. Three of the five were done by four that afternoon so I moved the money to an account at another site where I doubted Margaret or anyone else would be able to find it. Then I went into the bank's site, easily locating Margaret's CD's, which like most investments these days existed not on paper, but as magnetic blips on a computer disc. That money-almost $375,000-disappeared in a flash. I also sent that to the special account.