The Big Withdraw

The big withdraw

A Kevin Vidocq Mystery





The story had been all over the news for days. The robbery at the Thorndyke transport company. Kevin was pacing the living room of his apartment, his lanky frame concealed by a white shirt and a pair of jeans. For the last two days he'd been trying to wrap his mind around the whole thing. However, his train of thought was interrupted by a knock on the door.

"Come in!" He shouted after a moment's hesitation. He watched as the door opened and another young man walked in, his hair a light shade of brown, his height was average, and a little below Kevin's own, like his friend the new young man was dressed casually. "Oh," Kevin sighed, running a hand through his hair, noting with mild annoyance it was already somewhat scarce up front. "I thought I'd had a client."

"Gee, thanks." He sighed. "Nice to know where I stand."

"Sorry man," Kevin chuckled. "Just been thinking about the whole Thorndyke business. It's an interesting puzzle."

Kevin's guest laughed a bit. "Is it the puzzle or the reward that has your attention?"

"Can't it be both?"

"I suppose." He shrugged. "What do you have so far?"

"What the newspapers and television reported and a handful of theories. Nothing to interesting yet."

"Which means-" He started, only to be interrupted by Kevin.

"That tonight, John, your last name is 'Watson'." Kevin stated cheerfully.

"How do you plan to investigate this thought?" John inquired.
"I happen to know the detective in charge of the case. I think we can wrangle a quick looksie around."

"So I guess this means I don't get a choice, huh?"

"Not in the least." Kevin laughed, grabbing his car keys.

"Fine. At least tell me what exactly you know about all this?" John asked, following Kevin out to his car.

"Ah, right. You don't pay as much attention to crime as me. Well, we've got time to kill..." Kevin paused trying to collect his thoughts and figure the proper place to start. "About four days ago the Thorndyke Transport Company was delivering a large sum of money to a local bank, but when it arrived, the truck was found totally empty. Now this is when things become interesting. Examination of the truck reveals nothing out of the ordinary was found...well besides the missing cash. No prints, no empty bags, nothing. The driver of the truck, the papers say his name is Jacob Winslow, claims the only stops he made were at red lights and certainly never long enough for someone to take out the money. Besides, the whole thing was locked up tight when he rolled in."

"Weird..." John said simply, blinking in thought. "You said you had a few ideas thought?"

"Yep.. I've arranged them from 'unlikely' to 'utterly impossible'. At the start there's the thought that someone could've stowed away in the truck and...I dunno...tossed the money Out?" Kevin murmured.

"You have ideas that are more unlikely?" John asked skeptically.

"Aliens. Although what they'd want with a couple hundred thousand dollars I have no idea."

"...you have a heck of an imagination, I’ll give you that much. So, how much was taken anyway?"

"Eight-hundred thousand dollars. And they're offering five percent of that as a reward for the recovery of their money."

By the time their conversation had wrapped up Kevin and John had arrived at the Thorndyke company. It was a relatively small building of red brick, surrounded by roughly a dozen armored cars as well as a chain link fence. As the two quickly found out the building itself was divided between the garage and the offices.



The two young men were met by a police officer, perhaps his mid-thirties, dark hair slicked back over his head, his face alert and clean shaven. He offered a simple greeting as he held out his hand to Kevin.

"Sure you wanna look around?" The detective asked. "I'm not sure that there's much you can do."

"C'mon now, Remington, with the money they're offering how can I resist? Is Mr. Thorndyke in? I'd like to talk to him first." Kevin responded, shaking Detective Remington's hand.

"He's up in his office if you're set on this." He shrugged.

Kevin nodded before heading into the building, it was a short walk to the office of Thomas Thorndyke, owner of the company. "Mr. Thorndyke?" He inquired, looking over the small office space, taking in the decorations and desk.

"Yes." He sighed, running a hand through his remaining hair. Thomas Thorndyke was a rather dumpy man, short with a little pudge showing, his hair already fading away from his scalp in a controlled retreat. "Look, I’ve already told the Police everything I know about this." He informed them, his voice betraying annoyance at being asked again.

"Well, unfortunately sir, my friend and I aren't actually part of the Police force. Rather...we're...independent detectives." Kevin informed him, taking no notice as John raised an eyebrow at the description. "You offered up a reward...you should know you're going to get a lot of amateurs out trying to get it. And a few crackpots." He added.

"And which are you?" Thorndyke inquired, voice laced with sarcasm.

Kevin smiled again before giving a mock bow to the man. "Well, if I solve the case, I suppose I’m a lucky amateur. If not...I’m a crackpot. Either way you don't lose anything by talking to me, do you?"

"I suppose not..." He admitted before he began talking again. "Most of the known information is in the newspapers already though...i'm not sure what else I can tell you."

"Oh, I just have a few questions. First, can you tell me a little bit about how business has been going for the last few months? You don't seem to have a lot of manpower after all."

"I'm not entirely sure what you're getting at, Mr...?"

"Vidocq. Kevin Vidocq. But, as for my question? I don't suppose there have been any major problems at the company lately?"

"Of course not!" Mr. Thorndyke denied vehemently. "I run a tight ship here."

"Really? So there's absolutely nothing wrong?" Kevin asked. "No...downturn in profit?"

"Uh...well...yes, about six months ago, we did take a bit of a downturn, but we're on the way back up, I assure you!"

"Thank you, that's all I needed to know. Well, if you could do me one more favor and perhaps write a note allowing me to look around as a private investigator in your employ?" He asked with a smile, taking out a pen and a piece of paper. "Ahh, thank you."

With that interview over, Kevin made his way down towards the garage and after a few inquiries had found the particular car that had been carrying the stolen money, once again he was met by Detective Remington. "Find anything interesting?" The other detective inquired.

"A couple things, yeah." Kevin nodded. "Do you mind if I check out the inside of the van? And...could you maybe lend me a tape measure?"

Detective Remington blinked, but shrugged. "Sure, sure. Wait here." He shrugged, moving over to a small group of tools nearby as Kevin opened up the back of the truck.

"Interesting." He mumbled, moving around inside the back on his knees, creating a few hollow 'thump' sounds as he did so. "Very interesting...yes, this will be important." He said with a grin, sliding out of the truck as he completed his measurements.

"You find a clue?" John asked, rolling his eyes a bit at his friend.

"I may have found one or two, yeah. But...I need to check the measurements of the other trucks too." He declared, and began making the rounds to each available truck, ignoring any questions as to why he was doing so until he'd finished up. "Hm? Ah, it's simple really...I just like being really thorough. Never know when the entire case'll hinge on one or two minute details, right?" He asked with a smile. "Now, c'mon John we do have an interview to conduct with Mr. Winslow."

It didn't take long to locate Jacob Winslow, he was an older man, perhaps in his late forties or early fifties, hair greying at the temples and sporting a short neatly trimmed goatee flecked with grey as well.

"How are you?" Kevin asked, reaching out to shake his hand. "I'm Detective Vidocq, this is my...partner, John." He informed him with a smile. "I just need to ask a few questions, i'm sure you can understand, a loss of almost a million dollars is a pretty serious deal, huh?"

Jacob nodded, looking a little nervous at the scrutiny he was receiving from Kevin. "Sure...uhm...what...what do you need to know?"

"Oh, the normal questions: grievances with your employer, route, usual time it takes you to make the stops...you know, little things. So...why don't we start from the top, do you have any problems with the company?" Kevin inquired, leaning a little closer.

"Well...I mean, Mr. Thorndyke is firing nearly half of us..." Mr. Winslow admitted reluctantly.

"Are you one of those people?" Kevin asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Yes..." He sighed.

"How interesting. How very interesting. Alright then, and as for my other questions, can I borrow a few things from you...just a copy of your usual route and...maybe your resume if you don't mind? Past employers and all that."

"Am I suspect?" He demanded with a scowl. "I'd like to know how you think I could have stolen that money on my way to drop it off!" He growled, balling his hands up in annoyance.

"I'm just checking out every possible angle." Kevin assured him, smiling benignly as he held up his hands. "And you have to admit, you are in a suspicious position."

Jacob kept muttering to himself as he drew out the lines on a map of the city for the route he'd taken, as well as giving Kevin a list of past employers. For his part, the young detective smiled before taking his leave with John.



"Well," Kevin spoke up with a grin once they were in the car. "I think I’ve made quite a bit of headway. How about you John?"

"I think you've gathered some minor details. I'm not entirely sure how this all is adding up in your mind." The other young man admitted, shaking his head. "So why don't you tell me just what you know?"

"Ah, you know I love showing off." Kevin laughed. "But alright...let's see what we've got here: The truck where our friend was holding the money is actually almost half a foot shorter from floor to ceiling than any other truck in the building. That's pretty interesting. Second, Mr. Winslow is being let go. Now, we have a list of his former employers...and if you'll look at the place he worked right before this job? Tell me what it is."

"It's...a construction company." John commented, tilting his head to look over at his friend. "What exactly do you think happened?" His response from Kevin was simply a cryptic smile.

"Come on now, I like to have an audience for my big unveilings. Besides, I need to check out a few leads...come back to my place tomorrow say...one o'clock? I should have managed to get my answers by then. I don't think I’ll have much time to hang out tonight though...you understand." And with that comment, Kevin pulled into the parking area of his apartment, letting John out of the car.



The next day, John had shown up on time, to find Kevin again pacing his living room, this time with a grin on his face. "Ah! You're here!" He said excitedly. "I've got the answer! I really have it this time!" He assured his friend.

"...It's not aliens is it?" John sighed.

"Not in the least, now, to the car!" He declared, gesturing dramatically before rushing out of the door. John, rather used to his friend's sometimes manic behavior simply sighed and followed along, asking him to explain as they reached his car.

"It's all so simple! Okay, so here's what I was doing last night after you left...I’d checked out the map Mr. Winslow gave me and decided to work my way from the most outlandish theory to the simplest. You know how I like to do that. Anyway, so the first thing I did was check the manhole covers to see when the last time they'd been opened was."

"Why?" John asked, raising his eyebrows in confusion.

"The theory involved someone dumping the money down manholes as they drove the route. Weird, improbable, and now I knew it hadn't been done. Besides, there were only five sewers on the route, he'd need a lot more to make any significant drops. Besides that he'd need a lot of stop signs and lights. Which there weren't all that many. Especially when you time the longest red light at about forty-five seconds. But, moving on...after careful observation i'd come to the conclusion that most of my theories were wrong. There is no way anyone could have stopped long enough to unload the money from the truck."

"But...it's still gone!" John protested.

"Ahhh, but you haven't found out the two biggest clues I got: first, the truck was about...fifteen minutes late on its delivery. Which Mr. Winslow blamed on traffic. But, I also called his last employer, the construction company...and when he'd worked for them he had been a welder! Understand now?" Kevin asked, briefly looking over at his companion.

"Uh...not really." He admitted.

"Ah. Too bad. You'll understand when I explain it to Remington though." And with that proclamation Kevin refused to speak anymore until they had arrived at the transport company, gathering everyone near Mr. Winslow's truck, he was rubbing his hands together in anticipation until, finally, Mr. Thorndyke and Mr. Winslow arrived.

"Great! We're all here." He smiled, nodding his head with approval as he paced back and forth in front of the car. "Now, I won’t bore anyone with a recap of the crime. However, I'm not entirely sure we can say a robbery has been committed." Kevin told them with a grin.

"What are you talking about?" Thorndyke demanded angrily, as he gestured to the empty bed of the truck. "I'm missing eight-hundred thousand dollars! How could a robbery not have occured?"

"If the peanut gallery will pipe down, i'll explain. You see...I don't believe the money ever actually left the car." Kevin said, grinning like the Cheshire cat as he sat down on the truck bed. "Let me explain...Mr. Thorndyke here was going to be firing a LOT of people. Mr. Winslow among them. Now, our driver here probably didn't have a lot of cash saved up...felt he deserved something for retirement maybe?"

"I don't know what you're talking about! Yes, I was angry, I gave my time and effort to this company and he was just gonna lay me off-" However, any further declarations from Jacob Winslow were interrupted by Kevin once again resuming his explanation.

"Now, this is where things get interesting, so i'll explain how I got my conclusion; first we have the size difference between the beds of all these trucks. I'm no expert, but I’d imagine a group of vehicles of identical make and model would be...well...identical. Miracle of the assembly line process. Anyway, that made me suspicious...the hollow noises the floor made when I was on them didn't help either. Anyway, after some phone calls, what do I discover but our dear driver was a welder. This was instrumental to me...and to him for his plan. You see...Mr. Winslow was fifteen minutes late when he arrived at the bank with that cash. I'd imagine it's just enough time to scatter the money across the floor of the truck, place a nice false bottom over it and relock the doors?"

Jacob Winslow's face drained of color at Kevin's assertions. "I...I mean...that's...crazy..." He said, even as Kevin and John were pulling at the 'floor' of the truck, and as they removed it with a loud 'clang' as it hit the ground, bills of various denominations scattering around them.

"Mr. Winslow, I’m afraid you're under arrest..." Detective Remington told the former driver, removing the handcuffs from his pockets as soon as the group got over their mutual surprise at this turn of events. "And Mr. Vidocq, thanks for your help in this matter?"

"Just doing my civic duty." Kevin responded with a wink and a grin.

"And making a heck of a lot of money in the process." John whispered to him.

"Ah, right!" Kevin spoke up again, once more rubbing his hands in excitement. "About that reward...I believe the terms were...five percent to whoever could get the money for you?" He asked. "I hope you have your checkbook ready.



It wasn't long afterwards that John and Kevin were back at the detective's apartment, enjoying a 'victory meal' of pizza, pop, and television before John spoke up once more. "Okay, how did you do it?"

"Do what?" Kevin asked.

"You know what. Figure all of that out." John demanded of him.

"Ah. That." Kevin responded with amusement. "It's really very simple...I eliminated the most impossible theories...and what was left covered all the facts I had. So, I used it."

"What if you'd been wrong?" John asked curiously.

"...Then I look like a pretty big idiot in front of the police and you. Fortunately, i've got that combination of intellect and imagination that makes for a great detective. Now, hand me another slice of pizza, would you?"