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scribbling.
    â€œHe came in through the front door, pulled a gun from the waistband of his jeans, and started shouting,” Stendahl said. “I ran out of the office to try to stop him and he hit me with the barrel of the gun.”
    Stendahl sat back down. “I fell down. I don’t remember much after that. Blood running into my eyes, more shouting. A few minutes later, he was gone.”
    â€œIs that all the description you can give me?” Joe asked. “How big was he?”
    â€œI don’t know. Pretty big, I guess.”
    Joe remembered that Meredith had a long ponytail. “Could you see any of his hair? Did it stick out under the mask?”
    Stendahl closed his eyes for a second as if replaying the events. “No. No, I don’t think I saw his hair.”
    â€œBut why are the police about to arrest the manager?”
    Stendahl put his hands flat on his desk. “Because this guy knew everything about our procedures. He knew there would be only four of us here. And,” Stendahl said, nodding out the window at a big building down the street, “he knew Robert’s Department Store had just made a big cash deposit, like they do every Monday afternoon.”
    â€œA teller could’ve told him those things.”
    â€œRight,” Stendahl replied. “But he also knew there wouldn’t be any surveillance video.”
    Joe stopped writing. “No video?”
    Stendahl shook his head. “That’s how I know it was Sylvia. She and I are the only ones who know how to operate the surveillance system. When I went to show the police the video last night, we discovered that the system had been disabled—the tape was totally blank.”
    â€œThere was nothing?”
    â€œNothing. Well, except for the parking lot camera. She must’ve forgotten about that one.”
    Joe put the cap on his pen. “I’d like to see that video.”
    â€œI wish you could, but the police took it. There wasn’t much on it—just the thief running through the parking lot with his back to the camera.”
    â€œHow about a car?” Joe asked.
    â€œNo, nothing like that. The police think he got away on foot, or had a car parked a few blocks away. That’s what they told me.”
    Joe stood up and shook hands with the bank president. “Thanks for the interview,” he said. “Oh, one more question.”
    â€œSure thing.”
    â€œWhy would Miss van Loveren set up a bank robbery?”
    Stendahl shrugged. “Who knows? Greed, maybe. She seems to spend a lot of money. You know, designer clothes, a sports car, things like that.”
    Joe whistled. “That’s a lot of cake.”
    â€œYes, it is.”
    They could hear sirens in the distance. Stendahl looked out over Joe’s shoulder into the lobby. “Anyway,” he said, going over to hold the door open. “This will be in tomorrow’s paper right? Everything about Miss van Loveren and how the police are going to make an arrest?”
    â€œSure,” Joe said. “I’ll get it all in there.”
    Joe left the office. Through the back windows of the bank, he saw two police cars whip into the parking lot.
    Customers in line craned their necks to see what was going on. “Oh, boy,” a little kid said. “They found a real robber!”
    â€¢Â Â â€¢Â Â â€¢
    â€œOpen the door with your left hand and step out of the van!” the amplified voice boomed.
    Frank did as he was told. The bank guard stepped up quickly and frisked him.
    â€œHe’s clean,” he said so the other officers could hear. He started to cuff Frank.
    â€œHold on there!” a familiar voice said. “Hold up—I know this man.”
    The bank guard stepped back as a Bayport officer approached. “Hey, Frank,” the officer said. “You been robbing banks lately?”
    Frank turned to see his friend Con Riley. “Boy, am I glad to see