Davis frowned. “Then why did you call us?”
“Because a child this age presented himself alone seeking a twelve-thousand-dollar cashier’s check from an account holding millions.”
“With signed custodial authorization,” Jamal said.
Davis raised a finger. “I’m talking right now.”
Jamal closed his mouth.
Kim bent and picked up the coffee-stained TechVision letter from the floor. He read the first paragraph, then the signature block.
“Who damaged this?” he asked.
No one answered.
Frank shifted his weight.
Kim looked at the laptop. “And that?”
“His bag opened during the security check,” Bradley said.
“I didn’t agree to a security check,” Jamal said.
Davis turned toward him. “You want this to go smoothly? Stop interrupting.”
The boy’s breathing shortened.
Davis noticed the phone on the counter. “Is that yours?”
“Yes.”
“Anything else in your pockets?”
“My keys. Wallet. Gum.”
“Empty them.”
Kim looked over. “Why?”
“To make sure he isn’t carrying more cards or IDs.”
“We have no report of stolen cards.”
“We have possible identity theft.”
“We have a bank account in his name.”
Davis’s jaw tightened. “We also have a branch manager saying it looks fraudulent.”
Kim lowered the letter. “The branch manager hasn’t verified the documents.”
Bradley bristled. “I have fifteen years of fraud experience.”
“Then use it,” Kim said. “Call the number on the letter.”
For the first time, the balance of authority in the lobby shifted by a fraction.
Not enough to end the situation.
Enough for Jamal to notice.
Davis held out his hand. “Pockets.”
Jamal obeyed because the man wore a gun.
Wallet.
House keys.
Three dollars in folded bills.
Bus transfer.
Gum.
A small flash drive containing a backup of his latest code repository.
Davis picked up the flash drive. “What’s on this?”
“My work.”
“What kind?”
“Source code.”
“Could be stolen account data.”
“It’s math software.”