“I don’t know, but it’s a week’s take from three liquor stores, and that’s like three weeks’ take from one liquor store, so it’s gotta be substantial.”
“Sounds right.”
“Then you two switch cars and come back here for the divvy. I’ll join you after lunch.”
“Nah, I don’t want to do any business here,” Ryan said. “There’s new people moving into the building every day, and they might think something funny is going on.”
“All right, then we’ll meet at Vinny’s mother’s house. She works at Walmart, on the day shift, so he’ll have the place to himself.”
“Much better.”
“You and Vinny can start the count as soon as you get there. I’ll trust you.”
“Okay, but make sure nobody follows you from lunch.”
“You know me better than that, Gene.”
“Yeah, you’re right, I do.”
“Then you and Vinny drive down to Virginia this afternoon and pick up the hardware. Here’s his number, a throwaway. When you get back, drive by the liquor store on 17 North. You know it?”
“Yeah, I do.”
“Pick a spot to watch from tomorrow. I’ll tell Vinny to steal an old car, and you two can decide where to dump it. Another thing: no phone calls between us, unless something goes wrong. Last time, I got some funny looks when that call came in. Just be there around eleven-thirty, so you know you’ll be there when they arrive. I won’t call you, unless Sean doesn’t show for lunch.”
“Got it.”
Al went home for lunch. “There’s a postcard from Florida for you,” his girlfriend, Gina, said. She was practically living there by now.
Al found it on the hall table. It was a beach scene, and the message said: Hi, I want to invite you down for a few days. Give me a call. It was signed, Charlie, and there was a number on the back. Al knew only one Charlie, the guy who used to work for his dad, with a partner named Frank. They had chewed the fat a few times.
“Are you going to Florida?” Gina asked.
“Maybe.”
“Me too?”
“Maybe. I’ll call the guy later.”
“The beach has always turned me on,” Gina said, kissing him on the ear.
“Well, that’s the best reason I ever heard for going to Florida,” Al said, giving her a kiss. “Give me a couple days to find out what’s going on, okay?”
“Okay,” she said, sounding doubtful.
“Don’t worry, babe, I go to Florida, you go to Florida.”
Ryan and Vinny were back from Virginia by midnight, completely equipped with shotguns, ammo, rubber boots, gloves, and cheap raincoats, along with foul-weather hats and large sunglasses. “It’s supposed to rain tomorrow,” Vinny had said. He had also spotted a costume store in a strip mall near one of the gun shops and had bought a pair of false beards that amused him.
Together in the car for so many hours, Vinny had opened up a bit, and Ryan had grown to like him. He was very comfortable with the idea of walking into that liquor store with him.
—
Al turned up for his lunch at an Italian restaurant on 17 North, a couple of miles from Sean Finn’s liquor store. The other two present were Merv Zilberg, who owned a big-men’s outlet store, and Joe Monroe, who owned a building supply company.
Sean was late, and Al was worried, until he showed up. They were given a favored table, since Sean was a regular and the restaurant bought wine and liquor from his wholesale operation. He ordered a good bottle of red, then insisted on ordering for everybody. “I know what’s good here,” he said.
“L’chaim,” Merv said, raising his glass, and so did the others. Sean ordered several plates of food, and when they came it was like a buffet.
“So, Al,” Sean said, when everybody was eating, “how’d you spend your cut?”
Al took a minute to think about that, then he put down his fork, took a sip of the wine, and set down his glass. “Exactly what d’ya mean by that, Sean?”
“Your cut from the poker game robbery,” Sean said pleasantly, winking at the others.
“Oh, I bought a couple Cadillacs, a yacht, and a Herbalife franchise,” Al replied, smiling. “What’s your point?”
“You set it up, didn’t you?” Sean asked, and he wasn’t smiling anymore.
“Fellas,” Al said, addressing the group, “anybody here know who the big loser was in the robbery? Let me refresh your memories: I had a big pot going there, and I was holding three aces. Maybe some of you saw my hand when the guy with the shotgun told us to put our hands on the table?”
A couple of them nodded.
“Now, Sean, let me ask you a question: Who was it who introduced the pro dealer into the game—the one with the pistol under his arm?”
“Yeah, Sean,” Merv said. “Who was it did that?”
Sean had not expected to be on the defensive. “I told you, it was better if we had a dealer, instead of doing it ourselves. That way, nobody wonders about the cards he gets.”
“Yeah, Sean,” Al said, “it was you who introduced the ringer.”
“Ringer?” Sean licked his lips.
“The mechanic. I been in enough poker games to know who’s dealing off the top and who isn’t. I reckon the two of you were setting me up for the kill by letting me win a few hands. And your guy was prepared to back his play with a gun, if the going got tough for him and somebody squawked about the cards he was getting. Of course, I had no squawk, since I was getting aces.”
“Now, wait a minute, guys,” Sean said, “you all know me.”
“Yeah, Sean,” Merv said, “we all know you.” Merv just let that lie there. Everybody had gotten very quiet. “Tell us about the ringer—who was he?”
“Just a good cardplayer I know, used to work the Vegas casinos.”
“Is that where he learned to deal off the bottom?” Al asked.
—
It was at that moment in time when Ryan and Vinny walked into Sean Finn’s liquor store out of a steady rain outside, their yellow raincoats and hats glistening, droplets hanging from their false beards. The two men who had delivered the bank bags had left, and there were no customers in the store.
“Put your hands on the counter and keep them there,” Ryan said, producing a shotgun on a shoulder strap from under his raincoat.
Vinny held his shotgun in one hand and vaulted over the counter with the other. He pushed the two men along the counter, away from the cash register. “Look what we got here,” he said, taking two handguns from under the counter and emptying them, then tossing them into the wine department. He found the three bank bags, too, and put them on the counter.
Ryan grabbed all three handles in one hand and kept the shotgun leveled with the other.
Vinny vaulted back over the counter and stood by the door. “Go ahead, partner, and start the car. I’ll be right behind you.”
“Don’t do anything crazy,” Ryan said. He turned to the two victims. “He gets crazy when people don’t do what he tells them. You don’t want that.”
“We’re not going to give you any problem,” the older of the two men said. “It’s not our money.”
Vinny grabbed the phone on the counter and yanked the cord free of its connection, then threw it into a display of bottles, knocking over a few. “Wait five minutes, then do your duty,” he said. The car pulled up, and Vinny backed out the door of the store and got in.
“Go,” he said.
—
Everybody was waiting for Sean Finn’s answer to the Vegas question when somebody’s cell phone rang.
“That’s mine,” Finn said. “I’d better get it.”
“Sure, Sean, you get it,” Merv said.
Finn put the phone to his ear. “Sean Finn,” he said. He listened for a minute, then his face fell. “Call nine-one-one,” he said.
“I’m on my way.” He put the phone back in his pocket. “Now listen,” he said.
“We’re listening, Sean,” Merv said. “Tell us about your guy from Las Vegas.”
“I really can’t go into that right now,” Finn said. “My store was just robbed. They got the week’s receipts from three stores.” He stood up.
“Maybe your guy from Vegas knows some people who know how to do that sort of thing,” Al said.
“We’ll have to talk about this later,” Finn said, edging around the table toward the exit.
“Let’s don’t talk about it ever again,” Merv said. “That okay with you guys?”
Everybody nodded, including Al.
Sean ran for the door.
“Funny, isn’t it,” Merv said, “how Sean’s phone rang just when it did.”
“You think his store was really robbed?” somebody asked.
“Let’s hope so,” Merv said, and got a laugh. He slapped Al on the shoulder. “You handled that real well, Al.”
“Lunch is on Sean,” Al said. “Eat up.”
When they had finished, Al threw a hundred on the table for the waiter. “Just put the check on Mr. Finn’s tab,” he said to the owner as they left.
Al walked into Vinny’s mom’s house and found Gene and Vinny counting and stacking bills on the living room coffee table. “How’d it go?” he asked.
“It went about a hundred and eighty grand in cash,” Ryan said, “and a lot of checks. You want to try to wholesale those to somebody?”
“Nah, too many people get to know things,” Al replied. “Burn them.”
“I say we give Vinny a third,” Ryan said. “The kid has earned it.”
“Okay,” Al said without hesitation. “Full partners. You cut it, I got to make a call.” He went into the dining room, out of earshot, and called Charlie at the number on the postcard.
“Hey, Al,” Charlie said, “it’s gotta be you—nobody else has the number.”
“I’m on a throwaway, too, Charlie, just so’s you know. How’s life treating you?”
“Sweet,” Charlie said. “I’ve got more work than I can handle. Why don’t you come down here for a few days and do some of the lifting. If you’re in touch with Gene Ryan, I can use him, too.”
“I’ve got Gene and one more very reliable guy, name of Vinny.”
“Okay, the three of you. Buy yourself a ticket to Lauderdale, and I’ll get you a nice place.”
“Better be nice. I’m bringing my girl, Gina.”
“Okay by me. We won’t be working all the time. Tell Ryan and Vinny they can bring one, too, or I can find them some company.”
“When?”
“Sunday?”
“Good for me. You want to give me some details I can pass along?”
“Not on the phone. Let’s just say there’ll be a minimum of fifty large for each of you, maybe more, depending.”
“Hang on a second, Charlie.” Al walked back into the living room. “How about this? We fly down to Lauderdale on Sunday, where a friend of mine, good guy, has a job for us. He puts us up, with girls, if you want, and we do a job that brings us fifty gees each, at least. And we have a few days in the sun. Okay?”
“Okay,” Vinny said without hesitation.
“Who’s the friend?” Ryan asked.
“Remember Charlie and Frank? They did special jobs for the old man.”
“Sure. We dealing with both?”
Al put the phone to his ear. “Is Frank in this, Charlie?”
“Nah, Frank is in Vegas, I hear, or maybe L.A. This is just me.”
“Just Charlie, Frank’s out West.”
“I’m in,” Ryan said.
“Okay, Charlie, we’re in.”
“Great. Get on a plane, pick up a rental at the airport, and drive to the Sea Castle Motel, on the beach.” He gave Al the address. “I’ll take you to dinner Sunday night and brief you. You need me, call on this phone.”
“See you Sunday,” Al said, and hung up. “Okay, guys, here’s what we do: we get flights to Lauderdale or Miami from three airports. Vinny—LaGuardia, Gene—Newark, me—Kennedy.
“We each make our own bookings and pay cash. When you get in, take a cab or a rental to the Sea Castle Motel, on the beach in Lauderdale. There’ll be rooms in each of our names. Take a girl, if you want, or Charlie will find you somebody. We have dinner with Charlie Sunday night, no girls. We’re there for a few days, then we’re out, fifty grand richer.”
“I’ll bet Charlie is making a lot more,” Ryan said.
“Who gives a shit? Is your time worth more than fifty grand? And we don’t have local law enforcement to deal with.”
“Okay by me.”
“Me too,” Vinny said.
“Speaking of local law enforcement,” Ryan said, “are we gonna be hearing from them?”
“Probably not, but we should always be ready. If they ask, you both know me, but you don’t know each other. No need to hide the trip to Florida.”
“Okay,” Vinny said, pointing at the money. “Sixty grand each, now we gotta get outta here before my mom gets home.”
“You already dispose of the costumes?” Al asked.
“On the way here,” Vinny said. “They’re burned.”
—
Dino was almost his old self, and Stone had postponed his dinner with Pepe Perado, so that evening, Stone hosted a dinner at the Post House, a steak place in Dino’s block and next to Pepe’s hotel. Stone took Pat Frank, and Pepe said he was bringing somebody. Somebody turned out to be the lovely Caroline Woodhouse, from the ad agency, who Stone, as an act of self-preservation, had hooked up with Major Ian Rattle, his former houseguest. He had forgotten that Pepe had met Caroline at the same time he had.
“You’re looking very well, Dino,” Pepe said, shaking his hand. “Considering.”
Dino laughed. “Yeah, considering. I’ve got a hard head, as Stone keeps pointing out to me. How’s the brewery business?”
“Distribution business, for the moment. It’s going very well, and we’re starting to plan for the brewery. We’re going to have a big bash in a couple of weeks to introduce ourselves to the New York market. You’re all invited—invitations to follow.”
“Hello, Stone,” Caroline said, holding on to his hand for a moment. “You’re looking well.”
“And you’re looking better than that, Caroline. This is Pat Frank. Pat, Caroline Woodhouse.”
They dined well, and Stone walked Dino and Viv home, down the block, just to make sure he was okay.
“He’s fine,” Viv whispered to him when they kissed good night. “That’s for helping me keep him in hand.”
—
That same Friday night, Sean Finn drove Danny, his Vegas card shark, to the airport.
“What’s the matter?” Danny asked. “No more poker?”
“No more poker,” Sean said. “It got too expensive. My liquor stores got hit for a week’s take this afternoon, and I think it’s connected to the poker game.”
“What are you going to do about it? You want some out-of-town help?”
“This one is going to the cops, but they’re not going to crack it. Looks like I’m just going to have to let my insurance company eat the loss.”
“That’s what they’re good at.”
“I’m not going to let it go, though. Danny, do you know competent people who do contract work?”
“What kind of contract?”
“You know what kind.”
“Yeah, I know people can do that.”
“I’ll pay you ten grand to set something up, keeping me out of it.”
“Who’s the mark?”
“Al Parisi, the little guinea we were going to take in the poker game. I underestimated him, but he underestimated me, too.”
“Yeah, I c
an handle that. It’s going to cost you fifty large, plus my ten.”
“Look in the glove compartment.”
Danny opened it and found a thick envelope. “How much is this?” he asked, hefting it.
“Fifty—ten is yours, use the rest to get the job done, including expenses. His address and license plate number are in there, too. If it all goes smoothly, you get another ten a month later.”
“Okay, I can handle it. When?”
“Sooner the better.”
“I’ll make a call when we get to the airport.”
At the airport, Danny didn’t make any calls, and he didn’t get on his flight, either. Instead, he checked into an airport hotel and rebooked his flight for early the following morning. Then he got Al Parisi’s address out of the package containing the money and spread out the local map Sean had given him when he arrived. He located the address, then looked at his watch: just past seven PM.
Danny got the snub-nosed .38 from his bag and into its holster. He had planned to dump it at the airport, but now he needed it. He went downstairs and took a cab to Al’s neighborhood and got dropped a block from the house, taking a card with the cab company’s number. He was walking up the darkened street when he saw a couple come out of a house and start to get into a car in the driveway. He heard a woman laughing. “Broadway, here we come!” she shouted. Sounded like she’d had a couple of drinks already. They backed out of the drive and drove away.
Danny checked the house they had left; it was the right one. There was a porch that wrapped around the house with one end next to the driveway. Danny walked up the driveway to the garage and cased the backyard: he found a low fence that separated the property from the one behind it, giving easy access to the next street. He went back to the porch, sat down in a rocking chair, and made a few calls on his cell phone, then he played some games for a while. Finally, he checked his map again with a penlight and made note of a street corner a couple of blocks away. It was well after midnight when a car appeared from down the street and turned into the driveway.
Danny flattened himself against the side of the house, pulled out the snub-nosed .38, and waited. The car stopped at the top of the driveway, and Al and a woman got out. They were weaving slightly as they passed the nook where Danny was waiting in the shadows. He waited until they were a couple of steps past him, then he stepped behind them and fired a shot into the back of Al’s head. Then, as the girl turned toward him, he took a step forward and put one right through her forehead, leaving her no time to react or scream.
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