“Frederick Vycor’s vault was long and narrow, about eight feet wide and fifteen feet long. The ceiling was ten feet high. A long counting table was fixed to the wall close to the vault door, and there Stephanie had placed the tellers’ drawers. An entire unit of oak shelves was built into the opposite wall and stacked with bills—fives, tens, twenties, fifties, and hundreds, all banded and official. Jeremiah slowly walked around the vault, looking at the walls, the ceiling, the shelves. Ne...ssa watched him, a half smile on her face. “What are you looking for?” “I’m being a tourist, wanting to see the scene of a legendary crime.” She laughed. “No. Oh, no. Not you. Vulgar curiosity has never prompted any of your decisions.” “You think you know me that well?” “I don’t pretend to understand what makes you do what you do, but I’m quite sure you don’t waste your employer’s time with frivolous pursuits.”MoreLessRead More Read Less
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