“The whole time I was on the floor, I kept wondering if he was a crazy shooter whose sole purpose was to hurt people or if he was just a poor man who needed money to feed his family. I would have given him whatever I had. Did he clean out the bank? Was this his first offense, because he didn’t seem very good at bank robbing. He kept changing his instructions.”

“He got away with a fair amount of money,” said Agent Brandt.

Zoe’s eyes widened. “Do you think organized crime was involved? Or, could he have been part of a gang?”

“Unlikely,” said Conner, glancing over at his partner. “We believe he may be the same person responsible for a string of bank robberies across several north-eastern states.”

“After you called, I wondered if it was mob-related because the FBI was involved as opposed to the NYPD,” said Zoe, her eyes growing round. “You don’t think the robbery had anything to do with terrorism, do you?”

“No,” said Agent Wallace, “no terrorism.”

“The FBI gets involved when a local police department asks for our help,” said Conner Brandt, but otherwise we don’t typically investigate robberies. However, since banks are federally guaranteed, when a bank gets robbed it is our jurisdiction. You can rest easy, we don’t believe there’s any gang, terrorist or organized crime connection to this crime. Just some bad guys who wanted to find an easy way to make a buck.”

Zoe shifted in her seat and leaned forward. “Is it cool being in the FBI?” she said in a knowing way, leaning further towards the two men. “It must be fascinating. I’d love to be a fly on the wall in your office. Have there been any near misses of major terrorist attacks that the FBI stopped but the public never found out about?”

“I’m afraid we can’t discuss confidential information like that,” said Conner. “But, let me assure you, we do our jobs and we take our role in protecting Americans very seriously.”

“Did you ever shoot anyone?” asked Zoe, eyes widening again.

Conner smiled and gave his partner another look. “I’m afraid we can’t disclose that kind of information either,” said Conner, glancing around Zoe’s huge third-floor apartment. “You have an extraordinarily beautiful and large home here. The view of the park through that window is spectacular. Is this a three-bedroom?”

“Four, if you count the maid’s room,” said Zoe, “I don’t have a maid, although it would be nice, right? When this building went up, I think live-in help was pretty common. On what I make, that ain’t gonna happen. The apartment is about thirty-eight hundred square feet.”

Agent Wallace let out a loud whistle. “You could put an ice-skating rink in here.”