Episode 3.3

Charlie leans so far into the screen, practically blocking my view, that his chest presses against the keyboard. As I pull him away from the monitor it only takes me two seconds to recognize what he's looking at so intently. The dark blue Greene & Greene logo in the upper left corner. The sign "fun. 1870" in the upper right corner.

"A bank report?" Charlie asks.

I nod, checking.

personally. At first glance, that's all there is, just a normal bank report that shows the monthly movement. Except for the Greene logo, it doesn't look any different from the monthly statements issued by all banks: deposits, withdrawals, account number… all the pieces are there. The only difference is the name of the account holder...

"Martin Duckworth," Charlie reads from the screen.

"Is it my father's account?" Gillian asks.

"... 72741342388," I read aloud while my finger Braille reads the numbers appearing on the screen. No doubt it's his account, the same as ours…" I cut myself off as soon as Gillian glances at me. The same number from the original account that we've already seen," I tell him.

Perfect, Charlie says with a look.

I turn to Gillian, but her eyes are now glued to the screen…and to the box that says Balance: $4,769,277.44.

-Four millions? Gillian asks, puzzled. She thought you said the account was empty.

"I was…I was supposed to be," I insist in obvious defensiveness. She thinks I'm lying. I told you, when I called from the bus they told me the balance was cer...

At that moment a click is heard and the three of us turn to the monitor.

-Which has been...?

"There," I say, tapping the screen with my finger again. I tick the box for "Balance: $4,832,949.55."

"Please tell me it's increased," Charlie says.

Does anyone remember what he said?

before... Click.

"Balance: $4,925,204.29." None of us say anything.

Click.

"Balance: $5,012,746.41."

—If I open my mouth more my chin

it'll hit the carpet," Charlie says. I can not believe it.

"Let me see," I say, pulling Charlie out of his seat. For once, he doesn't resist. Right now he is in a better position carrying the shotgun.

I scroll up to the "Deposits" section and study the three new deposits in the account:

«63 672.11: electronic transfer from account 225751116.

»92 254.74: electronic transfer from account 11000571210.

»87 542.12: internal transfer from Account 9008410321.»

I narrow my eyes and press my lips together.

"This is how he studies Mom's accounts," Charlie tells Gillian.

I lean forward and pat the top corner of the monitor. No I plan to let it slip away.

"No, don't tell me that he..."

I interrupt and recheck the numbers.

-That? Gillian asks.

I don't answer him. I shake my head, lost on the screen, searching for more information, I check the box marked Deposits. A smaller window opens, and I find myself looking at the entire accounting history of Martin Duckworth. All revenue recorded from start to...

"How the hell did he...?" It's not possible…" I stammer, scrolling through the digital screens of her bank account.

The more screens I examine, the longer the account becomes. Entry after entry. Sixty thousand, eighty thousand, ninety-seven thousand. The income does not seem to end. I have that familiar empty feeling in my stomach. Has no sense...

"Say it once!" Charlie implores.

I turn, surprised.

-That? Have you forgotten that we are here too? Gillian asks, unexpectedly sharp.

I turn away from the screen, forgetting for a moment about the

monitor, and I let them take a look. "Do you see what's here?" I ask, pointing to the box.

corresponding to «Deposits».

Charlie rolls her eyes. "Even I know how one works."

deposit account, Ollie.

"It's not about the deposit," I say.

—. It's about where the money comes from. -I don't understand...

Behind us the sound is heard

from the elevator and Charlie turns her head towards the opening doors. Two older women holding hands exit the elevator. Nothing to worry about. At least not yet.

"Check each of the depots," I say as Charlie refocuses his attention on the screen. Sixty-three thousand... ninety-two thousand... eighty-seven thousand. I point to the other warehouses. Do you see the trend?

Charlie narrows his eyes.

"You mean apart from the buckets of pasta that come in?"

"Watch the numbers, Charlie. Duckworth's account comes in more than two million dollars a day, but there is no deposit that exceeds one hundred thousand dollars.

-AND?

"And one hundred thousand is also the limit amount so that the bank's automatic accounting verification system won't kick in, which means..."

"…anything less than $100,000 isn't verified," Gillian adds.

"That's the game," I say. It's called smurfing and it consists of taking the amount of money that can slip below the accounting verification threshold. People do this all the time, especially when customers don't want us to ask annoying questions about their cash transactions.

-I do not see what the problem is. The uncle it's a smurf.

"It's not a smurf." He is smurfing.

Smurfing," I say. And the important thing is that it is about the best way to keep it under the radar line.

"Keep what below the radar line?"

"That's precisely what we're about to find out," I say, refocusing on the screen.