It was the perfect plan. From years of experience of working at the bank on First Street, Charlie knew that every third Thursday of every month, the executive board would replenish the supply of money, check the bolts and change the locks in the main vault. At that time, there were usually at least ten armed security guards and policemen watching every move. She also knew that for the past month, they had been boycotting their usual locksmith, as he had breached his last month’s contract by being so bold as to boast about his monthly job to his buddies at the bar.
As the bank’s business was booming, their trust in Charlie seemed to increase by leaps and bounds as well. What is boiled down to, really, was that her plan to boost their bonus system for clients who invested at least $10,000 a year had a better success rate than any other plan in the last decade. It was only because she bore such a striking resemblance to Mrs. Smith, the original owner of the bank, that she was able to be as blunt as she wanted to be without having to brace herself one bit. If that hadn’t been the case, she would never have proposed such an outrageous plan. When her managers, and other coworkers alike, looked at her, they often blushed, thinking that it was Mrs. Smith, and not Charlie, that they were looking at.
So, it was not all that strange when Charlie walked into his manager’s office that afternoon and suggested that she do the locksmith’s job that night. As it was a small town, they all knew that she and her father had a tight bond from all the summers they worked together as locksmiths. Of course, her boss said OK, Charlie did the job, and afterwards, she took everyone out for a drink. As they drank more and more, everything became a bit of a blur. With the knowledge she gained from the drunken security guards, she had all the information she needed to break into the bank.
As she neared the Canadian border nearly the next morning with enough money to never have to work again, she suddenly put on the brakes, took a deep breath, put her left hand to her bosom, and reached into her pocket with her right. Her dream of bouncing from one city to another as Mrs. Smith was crushed. Her wallet, which contained all of her documents, was in the vault.