LAPD Headquarters. Main conference room. Imposing middle-aged man sat at head of table.
"Is everyone here?"
Cops below exchanged looks before answering him.
"Sir, looks like everyone's here except Captain Vincent Murphy!"
"Forget Vincent. Guy screwed up. I sent him home to think about it for couple days. From now on, I'm putting together task force to crack May 9th Pacific Standard Bank case!"
Others exchanged glances, realizing Vincent was in deep shit.
Things change fast. You could be king in morning and prisoner by afternoon.
"Since everyone's here, let's get started. Harvey, run down what we know."
"Copy that!"
Sharp, young detective stood up. Just as he was about to speak, conference room doors suddenly swung open. Rugged middle-aged man walked in, flanked by young blonde woman.
"Mr. Smith, why not let us sit in?"
Imposing middle-aged man, Mr. Smith, instantly scowled.
"Mr. Sean Archer, I don't recall inviting you to this meeting."
"Is that right? But Director Cole thinks this crew is way too professional. Highly likely they're interstate outfit, so FBI needs to be involved."
Rest of room hadn't recognized them at first. Hearing they were feds, everyone's expressions immediately shifted.
"Listen buddy, this is LAPD Headquarters, not FBI field office!"
"Yeah! That's why Jane and I are just here to observe. You guys keep doing your thing."
Saying that, Sean Archer and young blonde found two empty chairs and sat down, completely ignoring Smith's death glare.
Turf wars between local and federal agencies are as old as time. They didn't just start when certain President took office.
Truth is, California is America's biggest economy, but being so far from East Coast political hub means it gets ignored on lot of policies.
It's why California has threatened to secede more than once. Just classic fight for dominance!
But with FBI agents Sean and Jane already seated, Smith couldn't exactly call off meeting.
It'd be massive waste of time. Everyone here was top-tier detective with own caseloads. They weren't on standby.
Left with no choice, Smith signaled Detective Harvey to continue.
Young blonde agent, Jane, looked surprised.
"Sir, they're actually letting us sit in?"
"Shh! Keep quiet! Being agent means having thick skin. If you're too polite, you get screwed!"
Sean stared blankly at Harvey, looking like good student paying attention in class.
Jane opened mouth to speak but just grabbed notebook and started taking notes.
"...We've taken statements from all hostages. Hit started around 10:50 AM, they left bank at 11:08 AM. 18 minutes total. Two patrol officers saw four suspects flee. Entire job, only one shot fired, and they used suppressed weapons."
That intel made everyone in room look dead serious.
18 minutes to complete job. Zero wasted movement. Absolutely textbook operation.
"Keep going."
"According to hostage statements, they only saw face of one young Asian male. We managed to pull his image from recovered security footage."
Lawson had ordered Dennis to physically destroy hard drives, but Dennis clearly didn't know how thoroughly drive needed to be smashed. LAPD techs managed to recover fraction of footage.
But security camera resolution in this era was garbage. Plus Lawson wore disguise, so face projected onto screen barely looked Asian, let alone identifiable.
Blurry image made everyone frown. You couldn't even issue APB with that sketch.
"Is there nothing clearer?"
Smith asked Harvey, clearly annoyed.
"No, sir. That's max resolution for Pacific Standard's system. But we had sketch artist work off hostage descriptions. Here's composite."
Handsome, youthful face popped up on projector screen.
Smith studied it, arriving at conclusion.
"Looks like guy's wearing disguise."
"Yes, sir! We ran him through entire system. No hits. Either he's got clean record, or he's from out of state."
Harvey's words made everyone turn to Sean. If it was interstate, feds would be taking over.
Sean threw hands up.
"Don't look at me. FBI database got nothing on him either. He's ghost."
Smith frowned.
"No record? Impossible! Based on statements and footage, this guy is clearly crew leader. Highly skilled. Either he's never been caught, or he's criminal mastermind!"
Room leaned toward former. Criminal masterminds only existed in movies.
Detectives debated possibilities. Even Sean and Jane started brainstorming.
"Quiet! Debating this Asian guy's identity is pointless right now. Priority is cracking case! Harvey, how much did Pacific Standard report missing?"
"$10 million in cash and equivalent assets."
Smith's mouth twitched. Number was completely absurd.
How could tiny suburban branch hold that much cash and assets? They were obviously padding losses.
But actual loss wasn't Smith's problem. It wasn't his money anyway.
"Missing items are mainly cash and jewels. We investigate from two angles. Harvey, keep eyes on black market. Those guys are gonna fence jewels. Minute you see massive influx of stones hitting streets, move in!"
"Yes, sir!"
"Jimmy, monitor money laundering operations. See if anyone's requesting massive wash jobs recently."
In America, large transactions instantly trigger IRS scrutiny.
So unless you're using stolen cash for pocket money, you need to prove it's legitimate income before making huge purchases.
"Rest of you, hit streets and squeeze CIs! See what chatter is out there! Good thing media isn't all over this. We actually owe Vincent for drawing their fire!"
With barely any solid leads, Smith was forced to rely on old-school, brute-force tactics.