Free Final Turn: A story of adventure, intrigue and suspense. by maurice engler Page A

was no time to talk about business.
    "There was some interesting news on the radio on the way out here." Roger changed the topic.
    "News?"
    "You've heard about the armored car robbery? The armored car that was taken just down the street from the office." Roger was not sure exactly when Jack had returned from his travels. He might not be up to date on the local news. Jack gave him an uncommitted look.
    "On the way out here I heard on the radio that the robbers used a truck to load up the whole armored car; guards and all. They drove out somewhere to get the money out of the car. Then the whole thing, with the guards still inside was driven somewhere near the city and dumped. Some guy driving by found it with the guards still locked inside. Hell of a way to do it. They didn't say how much they got. I'll bet it was not just a little." Roger knew he sounded excited about it. It was exciting. He began to tell Jack more of what he had heard on the radio. Jack fidgeted as if he wanted to get going. He walked away from Roger and around his glider and put things away.
    "I have to go,” he said bending over a bag into which he was stuffing polishing cloths and the like. "Remember, I'll deal with that eStorage account as soon as I get into the office." With that, Jack hauled himself off towards a group of club members who were also nearly ready to go flying.

CHAPTER EIGHT
    Roger cleared off the table in Sam's gazebo and covered it with a map. It was a map centered on the city and extending for about one hundred miles in all directions. He held down two corners with wine glasses; each one filled, and another corner with the bottle. A notebook rested on the fourth corner. He held a calculator in his hand in a purposeful way.
    Sam sat on the couch, took her glass from the map and studied Roger with some curiosity. She didn't know what he was doing but she did know how he would go about it. He had a theory. She watched his eagerness as he prepared to tell her. His almost boyish grin as he prepared some figures in the notebook reminded her of her brother. Her brother had been the family inventor. He had always looked for better ways to do things; the dishes, the chores, the yard work or whatever. He had been able to marshal everyone's enthusiasm, rallying everyone to try a new way and forget the burden of the work in the process. In the end the plan would fail and they'd do it all in the normal way but no one seemed to mind. Sam was fond of Roger partly because he did have some of her brother's characteristics; this made her feel comfortable. In some ways it made him predictable. Roger would prepare his theory and then present it to her as a plan, something in which she would have to try to find a hole. That she was willing to do.
    Roger stood up as if to make an announcement. He held a long ruler, pointed to the map and looked not unlike a General about to brief the troops before the invasion. Sam thought the map should have been on the wall, Roger should be wearing a uniform and she should not be drinking wine. They should be in a tent out in the desert. Still, it did look like this was going to be a briefing.
    "This is what I think." he began.
    "I have the data which Bill retrieved from one of the trucks in the eStorage storage compound. The data and time all check out. The records indicate that the truck traveled 160 kilometers that morning. I have measured on the map the distances from the storage compound to the bank and from the spot where the newspapers said the armored car was found to the storage compound." Roger looked to Sam to confirm that she was in fact taking this all in. It was not always easy to tell where her mind was. 
    He continued, "Now if someone did use a truck from the storage compound they would likely have taken the following route. From the compound to the bank, from there to some place where they unloaded the money, then to the place where they left the armored car and then back to the compound. What I want to