The Inside Job Read Online Free PDF

forms of a tiny pony herd nosing its way up to the barn for dinner.
    Inside was sparse but pretty—lots of white tile on the floors and the walls. Beds with perfectly square foam pillows and neatly tucked-in blankets. Bathrooms with windows that overlooked the aforementioned ponies—I guess so you could pee and observe nature all at once. The art on the wall was weird, but not too terrible, even though Kennedy did take down the creepy painting of an old lady that was in the bedroom she and Beatrix were sharing. (“It
stares
at us, Hale. Can paintings be haunted?”) Walter, Ben, and I were in another room thathad four bunk beds—just enough room for three boys and all of Ben’s inventing equipment.
    We convened at the kitchen table, pulling up an extra recliner and barstool so there was enough room for the seven of us. Beatrix had her Right Hand out and plugged into two different computers. We watched as she pulled up my photo of the bank code and stabilized it, snatching the number off the screen. She then went through a series of screens that contained about a billion numbers and letters, typing frantically. Finally she looked up at us.
    She was frowning.
    â€œWhat’s wrong?” I asked.
    Beatrix kept frowning. “There’s about three dollars and four cents in the account. Adjusting for the currency exchange rate, of course.”
    We blinked.
    â€œMaybe this doesn’t account for the hard cash and the gold in the vaults, is all,” Otter said swiftly.
    â€œNo—this is
including
what’s in the vaults rather than in the digital account. Three dollars and four cents.”
    â€œThat’s impossible,” I said, shaking my head. “We hurt SRS when we broke out of the Castlebury location, but we didn’t ruin their finances. Besides, SRS would never allow the money to get so low. They must have moved it.”
    â€œWell, wait—no . . . Hang on, it’s weird,” Beatrix said, typing frantically again. “All right—so, yes, money was moved out of this account. It was moved to anotheraccount that has . . . a hundred thousand in it. And then last week, money was moved from that account to two different accounts. And those were moved to . . . three others. Hang on, I’m getting confused by the trail.”
    â€œThat doesn’t make any sense,” Otter said. “Antonio Halfred, that’s the name—did you type it in right?”
    â€œI did,” Beatrix answered testily. “I’m telling you, if this is SRS’s account, they’ve moved the money recently. They’re moving it a
lot.
”
    â€œWell, sure, moving it makes sense—it’d keep people like us from being able to find it. But that couldn’t have been
all
of SRS’s money. Even if that account had a hundred thousand dollars in it at one point, SRS has
millions
. Where is
that
money?” Walter asked.
    We went quiet again.
    And then I realized. I exhaled. “It’s . . . everywhere.”
    â€œWhat do you mean?” Kennedy asked.
    â€œBeatrix—can you see how many accounts SRS’s money has been in? Or how many are connected in some way to this Antonio Halfred?” I asked.
    â€œUh, well, I can try? But I won’t be able to see them all. There are hundreds. Maybe more,” Beatrix said.
    â€œProbably thousands,” I said. I leaned back in my chair, nearly tilting over when the legs slid on the tile. “SRS spreads their resources out. There are dozens of facilities. Even more sleeper agents throughout the world. They have their hands in organized crime andmedicines and real estate. Of course they’d spread out their money too.”
    â€œThey have their money in thousands of accounts,” Otter said, nodding in realization. “And they move it around so no one catches it.”
    â€œAre these accounts all in Antonio Halfred’s name?” Walter