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“Well, Ms. Kenney, I promise your
money will be safe with my company. Unlike the bank, I can guarantee
it.”
“How will your company protect
my money?” she asked.
“Sullivan Security will guarantee
to keep your money safe. You simply deposit your funds into our
protection account. We don't rely on computers at Sullivan Safety.
Your money will be kept in a steel security box at our storage warehouses,
where it will be guarded 24 hours a day. My company will fully insure
your funds. By keeping your money in one of our safes, you'll also
be protected against possible looters once New Year's Day arrives.”
Frankie paused, allowing the information
to sink in. He could tell he was convincing her. “We will charge
a small fee for protecting your funds. But once the year 2000 arrives,
you can pick up your money at any time. I can go with you to the
bank right now to get a cashier's check.”
“I'm not sure...” Ms. Kenney
said. “Can I think about it?”
Frankie glanced at his watch. “I
have a lunch appointment. Why don't you think it over, and I'll
come back in an hour.” He reached into his briefcase and pulled
out a pamphlet. “This will tell you everything you need to
know about Sullivan Security.”
|
|
“Thank
you, young man.”
Frankie gave her a reassuring smile,
then waved good-bye. He could barely contain his glee as he walked
down the sidewalk toward Main Street.
That pamphlet had given just the authentic
touch he needed. Last week, he'd prepared the dummy booklet, with
false information, and made twenty copies at the local printer. It
had been a small investment, but it had been worth it.
What a payoff! Ms. Kenney's diamond
ring alone must be worth tens of thousands. Maybe she would even tell
her friends about him. Just thinking about the possibilities gave
Frankie goose bumps.
His only trouble was deciding where
he would spend New Year's Eve. He couldn't chose between Hawaii, the
Caribbean, or a cruise. But no matter where he went, Frankie knew
one thing was for sure--he'd ring in the New Millennium in style.
After about forty-five minutes, Frankie
headed back to Ms. Kenney's house. He found her sitting on her porch
swing with a bunch of folders on her lap. Dollars signs danced in
his head.
“Hello, Mr. Murphy,” she said.
“I'm so glad you returned on time.”
Frankie put on his best smile. “Are
those your financial records?” |
