Tim stepped on the foot pump as quickly as he could. A river raft was wedged under the safe in the CEO’s office where he worked as a night janitor. Days earlier Tim had seen Mr. Downing busily stuffing it full of bags that appeared to be filled with cash.
“Oh, hey Tim. Could you give me a minute buddy?” Mr. Downing said.
“Sorry sir, I’ll come back later. My mistake.” Tim was quickly submissive even though he was just doing his normal rounds. It seemed the best way to speak to Mr. Downing.
“Thanks, pal.”
Michael Downing was a celebrity CEO. Frequently featured on magazine covers, interviewed by business journals and online news sites. Handsome, rich and famous he was a well-known playboy until he married a rising starlet almost a third his age. Tim felt lucky that this wildly successful man even knew his name, so he kowtowed to him in case any luck or success might rub off. But that Mr. Downing’s good fortune may have had run out. The company’s stock was tanking after several quarters of low profits and Tim saw a Google alert that Mr. Downing ’s wife was divorcing him. Tim reasoned the safe was crammed with untraceable valuables that could be quickly liquidated by anyone who could get their hands on them.
Tim looked up his old high school pal Benny. Benny’s home life had been unstable, his parents frequently in and out of jail, and Benny moved into and out of foster homes until he was eighteen. Benny never had anyone to keep an eye on him except Tim who wasn’t the best influence. He used Benny as his lackey in minor schemes of mischief and low-level crime.
Tim’s plan was simple. He’d pump up a river raft to lift the safe off the floor, roll a furniture dolly underneath, push it out a window and let gravity do the rest. Benny was his spotter, told to collect up anything that burst from the safe on impact and to chase off any bystanders. Pumping the raft was took longer than Tim expected, and the weight of the safe was almost more than he could overcome. He had to jump onto the pump to get little shots of air into the raft as it gradually raised the safe, wobbling ominously with each puff of air. Tim quickly concluded that with the raft, he couldn’t get the furniture dolly under the safe. But as the safe rose and tipped to one side Tim realized he might be able to catch it as it fell. Tim rolled the dolly into position and secured it with Mr. Downing’s massive, antique oak desk. After some more jumping on the pump, the safe finally slumped onto the dolly, digging a deep gash in the desk on its way down. Tim heard the dolly crack when the safe landed, but it seemed intact. He quickly called Benny to make sure he was in position.
“You ready?” Tim asked.
“Born ready, man. Do it.”
“Where are you? I can’t see you.”
“You’re twenty stories up. No shit you can’t see me.”
“Where are you?”
“Out front.”
“You’re supposed to be in the alley!”
“Then how do I drive off with the safe?” Tim sighed and took a deep, cleansing breath. “Benny. We talked about this. Go to the alley, keep it clear, and we’ll collect up everything after the safe breaks open.”
“Got it. I’m headed there now. I’ll block the alley with the truck.”
“Great idea. Call me when you’re in position.”
Tim had rented a small moving truck to carry away whatever was in the safe. He looked nervously at his watch, unsure how long he could wait for Benny and not be missed from his rounds in the building. The other cleaning staff took their break at midnight, and it was five minutes before. If he was late, somebody would come looking for him. “Benny, are you ready?”
“Yeah, I’ve been waiting for you. Where’s the safe?”
“Benny, I’m gonna—” Tim stopped himself. Yelling at Benny wouldn’t make things go any better. He had to push the safe out the window and get downstairs as fast as he could. “Okay, get ready, it’s coming out now.”
Tim pushed on the safe but it didn’t move. He pushed again and it weakly spun in a circle. Using the oak desk as a brace, he laid on his side and started slamming his feet against the safe trying to get some momentum. It jerkily started to roll toward the window, and slowly gained speed. As it hit the glass the corner of the safe went through but got stuck. It punched a hole in the window but one corner and a leg were left hanging in the air. Tim stared at it, unsure what to do. He pulled on the safe to bring it back, but it was immovable. He tried slamming his feet against it but only heard soft little cracks in the glass. He looked at his watch. It was five past midnight. He had to go to the breakroom or he’d be found out. He called Benny, “The safe is part way out, but I have to each lunch. Standby.”
“Part way out? Out of what?”
“Just standby Goddamn it,” Tim sputtered. He took the elevator down to the basement break room and joined the other janitors.
“Thought maybe you died,” Ramone said, “never known you to miss a meal.”
“I got tied up,” Tim said, as he got his lunch from the fridge.
“All the time I’ve worked here, you’ve ever been late for lunch. Usually the first one here.”
“First time for everything.” The cleaning staff, about twenty men and women of mixed skin color and languages tucked in for their midnight meal.
“Ed, do you ever remember Tim being late? I don’t remember him ever being late before,” Ramone said.
“No. Now pipe down, I want to watch the sports highlights,” Ed replied as he watched the fuzzy TV screen hanging on the wall. Tim was grateful to Ed for changing the subject and dug into his sack lunch, eating quickly despite feeling nauseous. In his mind Tim could see the safe dangling out the window, the glass slowly giving way. He also saw Mr. Downing coming back to the office unexpectedly and ruining the whole thing. He worried Benny might drive away, or come into the building and try to find him. His mind was reeling and he didn’t hear Ramone asking him again about his lunch. Ramone took to shaking Tim’s shoulder.
“Hey,” Ramone yelled, “Anyone in there?” as the other janitors laughed.
“Huh? What is it?” Tim asked, jolted by the interruption.
“You forgot to take your cheese out of the plastic,” Ramone was pointing to Tim’s sandwich, a ham and cheese with the single-serving plastic envelope still around a slice of American cheese. Tim had been biting into and hadn’t noticed.
“Guess I’m hungrier than I realized,” Tim tried to recover from his mistake, and somehow had to break away from his fellow workers, push the safe out the window and escape with the loot. “I feel sick.” Tim clutched his stomach realizing he may have created the perfect exit for himself. “I gotta hit the can.”
“You’re gonna be like a dog with plastic dangling out your asshole,” Ramone joked, to the amusement of the room. Tim tossed his remaining lunch in the trash and made for the bathroom, and once he was out of sight headed back up to Mr. Downing’s office. Once there he was shocked to find Mr. Downing as he struggled to pull the safe back from the precipice.
“Tim! You’ve got to help me! My whole life is in here!” He had one hand on the outside corner of the safe struggling to pull the inert mass back into his office, but he may as well have been trying to right an overturned locomotive.
“Mr. Downing, I don’t think you can get it back, it’s too heavy,” Tim stood a distance away, not sure how to proceed.
“Listen you piece of shit! Get over here and pull on this safe! I know you did this! You and your janitor buddies. You’re all going away for a long time!” Tim hesitated, shaken by the threat from the CEO. Mr. Downing bellowed, “Move it dumbass! Get over here now!” Suddenly, Tim ran at Mr. Downing slamming into him with the force of a linebacker. The glass gave way and both safe and man tumbled into the air. Tim watched from the now open window and could just barely make out the truck waiting below. He heard an impact echo back up the building but it was too dark to see what happened. He called Benny, “What happened? Do you have the safe?”
“That scared the crap out of me! Why didn’t you say the safe was on its way?”
“I was a little busy. Do you have it?”
“No, but I know where it is.”
“What? What does that mean?”
“You better get down here man, it’s too much to explain.” Tim ran the stairwell, leaping the levels as he went. His heart pounded so hard it felt like it might crack his ribs. He finally reached the alley and saw Benny looking into a hole.
“It’s down there,” Benny said, pointing into the square hole punched through the asphalt. Looking in there were at least two more similar holes as the safe cut its way through levels of the underground parking garage. It was too dark to see if the safe had survived the fall.
“Where’s Mr. Downing?” Tim asked.
“Technically he’s in the truck, but you won’t recognize him.” Benny pointed to the back of the truck where he’d opened one of the doors. “It’s like somebody dropped a man-sized watermelon, but filled with meat and blood and bones. He must have been really well hydrated.” Mr. Downing had landed directly on the truck going through the outer shell like tissue paper but stopping fast on the hardened steel floor. The force splattered him across the deck and up the walls as if someone had turned on a sprinkler filled with red paint.
“Close the door,” Tim said.
“You’re the brains,” Benny said. “What about the safe?”
“Drive the truck down there and gather up whatever you can. I have to go write a suicide note.”
“Won’t the money and all get covered in … Mr. Downing?”
“Keep it in the front seat. Call me when you get down there and let me know what you find.”
Tim took the elevator back up to Mr. Downing’s office and found Ramone looking out the window.
“Damn, that’s a long way down. Did you see it happen?” Ramone asked.
“Uh, no. I saw what you saw, but went down to check on Mr. Downing. It’s not good.”
“Word was the company was going under. He probably killed himself. Rich guys like that can’t handle a bump in the road. They don’t really have any backbone,” Ramone said.
“And his wife left him, so yeah, I guess he was pretty depressed,” Tim was secretly grateful for Ramone’s observations.
“I heard the wife was missing. Weird that he took the safe with him. Seems like a strange choice when you’re about to kill yourself,” Ramone observed.
“Maybe he just used it to break the glass. Or it was filled with valuables, or something.” Tim could feel Ramone’s mind processing what he’d just said and worried that he’d oversold the idea. “Big mess down there. He hit that truck and went splat. Big mess.”
“What about the safe?” Ramone asked.
“Disappeared into a hole in the ground. It’s crazy.”
“Did it come open? Anything laying around?”
“No idea. I couldn’t even see it in the hole. Then I came back up here to see what happened.”
Ramone looked out the window a moment, then back at Tim, “What do you mean? I thought you said you already saw what happened. Why did you come back up?” Just then, Tim’s phone rang.
“Sorry, I have to get this.” Tim stepped out of earshot from Ramone who kept surveying the scene. “What did you find?”
“The safe is open, but there’s no money in it.”
“Oh shit, it’s not his wife inside is it?”
“No.”
“Jewels?”
“No.”
“Just tell me what’s inside!”
“It’s a bunch of toys.”
“Toys? What kind of toys?
“Stuffed animals. They’re all different but kind of the same. They’re all in plastic bags with pieces of paper.”
“Pieces of paper. You mean money?”
“I know what money looks like, you dick. It says ‘Certificate of Authenticity’ and it’s signed by Peggy Gallagher. Does that mean something?”
Tim put his hand to his face, “Do the animals have a tag on them?”
“Yeah. Lemme see, ‘T.Y. original beanie baby.’ Oh shit, these are worth a lot of money!”
“No Benny, they’re not.”
“But there have to be, like, a couple hundred of them. That’s gotta be worth something.”
“Just walk away Benny. Leave the truck and get out of there.”
Tim slipped his phone back in his pocket and walked back to the window with Ramone. “Who was that?” Ramone asked.
“Nobody. Nothing.”
“You’re doctor I bet.”
“What? What doctor?”
“The one how has to remove that piece of plastic from your ass.” They both laughed.
“Yeah, that’s what it was Ramone, you got me.”
“Nothing gets by Ramone.”
“Nope,” said Tim. They stood for a long while, took in the view and enjoyed the fresh air blowing in through the opening.
“We should start cleaning this up, before the cops get here,” Ramone said, looking directly at Tim.
“Uh … right. We better get it tidy before they get here. Wouldn’t want them to come in a see a mess. They might think we’re not doing our job.”
“Exactly,” Ramone said as he reached for a broom.