Bobby should have asked more questions. He knew that almost immediately, yet the payment would cover a medical bill he had been putting off and the overdue insurance on his car. When Linda said the recipient would not be harmed and that nothing would be taken from him, Bobby accepted the assignment. He did not yet know that agreeing to something because it seemed easier than refusing could place him in the middle of a decision he would regret for months.
Linda prepared a second wallet at home. It contained a fabricated identification card and one hundred thousand dollars in cash, assembled in tight bundles that looked almost theatrical beside the ordinary leather. She had the money available through personal accounts, and she recorded the transfer in a private ledger rather than involving Sterling Living's finance department. She told herself that she would collect it once the test was complete. If Daniel kept the money, she would have proof; if he returned it, she would simply consider the experiment inconclusive and look harder.
There was no result in her plan that could make her admit she had been wrong. That should have troubled her. Instead, on the morning Bobby was scheduled to deliver the wallet, Linda dressed for work feeling the satisfaction of a person who believed she was finally going to confirm what everyone else was too foolish to see.
Bobby arrived at Daniel's house shortly after four on a Tuesday afternoon. The workshop doors were half closed, and he could hear the rasp of a hand plane moving across wood. He parked one street over, walked back carrying the wallet in a small paper envelope, and paused at the front steps. His instructions had been specific: place the envelope where the homeowner would see it, knock twice, and leave without making contact.
He stood there longer than necessary. The house was modest, with a swept porch, one window box filled with late-season flowers, and a brass number that needed polishing. A pair of work gloves lay beside the door, fingers turned outward as if someone had just stepped inside. Nothing about the place suggested a man who was plotting to obtain an international executive's money, but Bobby knew the appearance of a house proved little. He told himself he was delivering property that belonged to Linda and that the owner could choose what to do with it.
He set the wallet beside the gloves, knocked twice, and walked quickly toward the corner. From behind a parked car he watched Daniel open the door and look down. Daniel picked up the envelope, examined it, and glanced along the empty street. He did not smile, hurry inside, or look excited. He went into the house, then emerged a few minutes later wearing his jacket and carrying the envelope exactly as Bobby had left it.
Bobby's phone buzzed with a message from Linda. "What is he doing?"