By seven fifty five I was seated in an unmarked car outside the bank, with Detective Ortiz beside me and officers positioned discreetly near the entrance.
At eight o five Victor walked toward the bank in the suit I had helped him choose, smiling as if he owned the world.
He entered confidently and approached the international transfers desk, leaning forward to speak to the teller.
Before the transaction could proceed, four officers entered calmly and approached him.
“Victor Bennett,” one officer said, “you are under arrest for attempted aggravated fraud and conspiracy.”
Victor’s smile vanished and he tried to step back, but an officer secured his wrists in handcuffs as people in line began whispering and pulling out their phones.
Through the glass he saw me standing outside, and for the first time that day his expression shifted from confidence to shock.
Olivia was arrested thirty minutes later at her apartment, where she had been packing a suitcase and holding her passport.
Detective Ortiz later told me she first tried to cry and claim confusion, then turned angry when no one believed her.