“Fifty thousand.”
“Too much. Offer them twenty-five in return for a third of the take, and have a representative there when they divide the money. That’s about it, except for details peculiar to the location, like distance from the police station and state police.”
“Only a third?”
“It’s always a bad idea to get greedy. If there’s a lot of cash in the bank, a third of the take will recompense you nicely.”
“You want into this one?”
“I’m good for half the twenty-five, if you like their boss.”
“I think he’s okay, but I’d like you to meet him.”
“Okay, when?”
“He’s in my office now.”
Frank stood up. “Okay, let’s go.” He followed Jimmy down the hall and into the corner office. A man sat in a chair next to the desk, facing the windows.
“I’d like you to meet my partner,” Jimmy said.
The man turned and rose.
Frank sagged a little. “Hello, Charlie,” he said.
Charlie’s face lit up. “Hi, Frank, fancy meeting you here.”
“I’m sorry I lied to you about my plans, but you’ll have to forget about this when you leave here,” Frank replied.
“I got it,” Charlie said. “I don’t want to know your new last name.”
“How do the two of you happen to be acquainted?” Jimmy asked.
“We did some things together in New York. Charlie’s a good man, Jimmy. Let me take him down to my office and go over the details with him.”
“Okay, go do that, and come see me when you’re done.”
Frank led Charlie down the hall, sat him down in his office, and closed the door. “How’d you find me?” he asked.
“I didn’t,” Charlie replied. “I found your partner. About you, I had no idea.”
Frank sat down and took a legal pad from a drawer and shoved it across the desk. “All right, draw the bank for me.”
Charlie did so and handed the pad back.
“When did you last see it?”
“Yesterday. I went in and got change for a hundred.”
“And it’s as simple as this?”
“It is.”
Frank ran through his rules, though he didn’t really feel it was necessary.
“Got it.”
“Is there a back way out?”
“Yep, and an alley, too.”
“What are you using for vehicles?”
“One old van will do it—there’s just three of us and a driver. I’ll go into the vault alone with the manager; the other two will stand guard until we’re ready to leave the premises.”
“Go to a design shop and get business names made for the van, then peel them off when you’re done. Carpet cleaning is good.”
“Good idea.”
“Any questions, Charlie?”
“Nope.”
“Where are you going to divide the money?”
Charlie wrote down an address. “It’s a restaurant that went bust. One of my guys has a key to the back door.”
“I’ll be there for the divvy. Any arguments, my decision is final—make sure your guys understand that.”
“Done.”
“Wait here, and I’ll get your money.”
“Will do.”
Charlie went back to Jimmy’s office. “We’re done. It looks good.”
“You’re sure about Charlie?”
“All he needs is instructions, and he has those.”
Jimmy handed him a thick envelope. “Here’s twelve-five.”
“Right.” Frank went back to his office, opened his safe, counted out the other half, and handed it to Charlie, along with a couple of throwaway cell phones.
“Call me when you’re out of the bank, then when you’re on your way to the location. And Charlie . . .”
“Yeah, Frank?”
“Don’t fuck it up.”
Stone got a call Thursday morning:
“Dino on line one.”
“Hey, there.”
“Hey, yourself. Are you still in one piece?”
“Let me check.” Pause. “No missing pieces.”
“Let’s try and keep it that way. Get out of town.”
“How come?”
“Gene Ryan is out there somewhere. We lost track of him.”
“You were tracking him?”
“He was being watched. The watchers are now officially on my shit list.”
“Poor guys.”
“You better believe it. Now go away, please.”
“If you think I should.”
“I’ve said it twice.”
“You want to go with me?”
“It may surprise you to learn that, occasionally, I’m busy.”
“Bye-bye.”
“I hope so.” Dino hung up.
Stone worked for another hour, then Joan buzzed. “Pat Frank on line one for you.”
Stone picked up. “Hello, there, how are things in Kansas?”
“I wouldn’t know. I got in last night, and your new airplane is in your hangar at Teterboro.”
“You’re early.”
“There were only a few cosmetic squawks, and they corrected those quickly.”
“Let’s go fly somewhere.”
“You need to do that—your insurer wants you to have five hours with a mentor pilot—i.e., yours truly—before you go single-pilot. I talked them down from thirty hours, since the old airplane and the new have identical cockpits.”
“Why don’t we run down to Key West for the weekend?”
“What a good idea!”
“I’ll pick you up at nine AM tomorrow. We’ll come back Monday morning.”
“That works for me. See you then.”
Stone hung up. A blah day had just turned sunny. He buzzed Joan. “Book me into the Marquesa, in Key West, for three nights, starting tomorrow. Best available cottage.”
“Will do.”
—
The following day, Charlie Carney’s driver pulled up a few feet from the bank’s front door at ten sharp, opening time. “Okay, you go around to the alley and wait for us there.” He and his two men got out of the van, each carrying a large duffel bag. As they approached the front door they pulled down their masks from under their baseball caps, produced riot guns from the duffels, then walked into the bank. Charlie made straight for the single uniformed guard, who was talking with a customer. He took the gun from the man’s belt. “On the floor.” The man complied. Charlie racked the shotgun and fired a round straight up. Bits of ceiling tiles rained down around him.
“Everybody on the floor! No alarms and nobody gets hurt!”
“Fifteen seconds,” one of his men said, and the two men handed Charlie their duffels.
Charlie went straight for the manager and his desk and put the shotgun barrel under his chin. “You and me in the vault, now.” The manager complied.
Inside the vault, Charlie dropped the duffels on the floor. “Start packing,” he said to the man, and both of them started raking stacks of bills off shelves into the bags.