Robbing the robber

He knew he would get caught. Maybe? Maybe not? It was out of character for him. This was the first house he had broken into. At the back of the house, he pushed the screwdriver in between the door and the jamb. He jimmied the lock. It opened with no effort. Opening the door, he stood still. No sirens, no flashing lights and no cameras.

He stood back and looked. No scratches around the door. He had watched Rosso leave at 7:30 this morning. In the kitchen, the odor of coffee hovered. The sink full of dirty dishes. Some from this morning; most from last night. He wandered around the small house. Just a kitchen, living room, bedroom and bath. No one else here. Rosso lived alone.

He was checking the bedroom when a knock on the front door startled him. He moved to the hallway, peeking around the wall at the front door. His heart sped up. A young deputy sheriff stood looking through the glass. With the rising sun behind him, the man couldn’t see inside the house. Miko stood still as the deputy rapped again. He hid behind a door, sweat breaking out on his forehead. When Miko looked again, the deputy was gone.

A sheet of paper lay on the floor just inside the door. Written across the front of the sheet in red were the words ‘eviction notice.’ For the next two hours, Miko searched the house carefully, putting everything back the way he found it. He sat down in the overstuffed chair in the living room. The place was a dump. Even the furniture was no good. Miko jumped to his feet. The chair was very uncomfortable. Why was that? He reached up into the arms and felt bundles of cash. He was right. Rosso had hidden the cash in plain sight. Miko got out of the chair and then went to the couch. He knew just by looking at the bundles there were well over a hundred thousand. He put the cash in the bags he brought with him.

Miko checked the streets and rail yard. Seeing no one, he sneaked out the back. Sweating, he carried the bag in his hand to the car three blocks away. He set in his car, trembling. He had done nothing like this before and had no intention of doing anything like this again.

In his home, he spread the cash out on the bed in the guest room. His wife, Samanta, came in. “You found it.” She said, smiling. “I’ve been praying. I could just see you lying dead on his floor.”
He smiled at her nervously. “So could I.” He laid twenty-five thousand by itself. “This is ours. The rest belongs to someone else.”
“Be sure and wear your disguise.” She said, kissing him.
“I will. “Miko said.

Two days later, Miko sat at his desk. He had typed the envelopes on a printer he had bought at a yard sale. Yet he was still shaking as he opened the envelope. He had gone to several places in another city, yet he was sure at each one they would recognize him. He sat back in his chair and hit the intercom. “Susie, could you come in here, please?”
“Right away, sir.” She said. A few seconds later, she opened the door to the president of First Bank.
“It seems our robber had a change of heart.” Miko said, handing her a cashier’s check for twenty-five thousand dollars.

Across other cities and across the Midwest, other bank presidents were opening similar envelopes.

Rosso tore the house apart. The money was gone. With a knife, he cut the overstuffed chair into little pieces. He screamed, he cursed, he ranted, he ran throughout the house. Two weeks later, the police caught him robbing another bank. Yet he couldn’t figure out what happened to the one hundred and twenty-two thousand he hid in the house.