The Heist

by Leopold Borstinski

  “It’s about Brian and the job.”

  “What about him?” Lagotti was starting to get impatient with this psychotic gas man.

  “It don’t feel right with him. I don’t trust him.”

  “Really? How so?”

  “I can’t quite say but I’m not sure we can trust him with the money and he’s going to be mighty close to it for most of the day of the job.”

  “This is true. Can you say why you don’t trust him? I believe you. I trust your instincts but I’d like to understand better.”

  Pete couldn’t think of anything specific apart from the fact Brian was a coon lover, but he knew Frank Senior wouldn’t see that as a sufficient reason to have him killed.

  “I think he’ll betray us at some point and I don’t think it’s right to share our winnings with a man who’s going to stab us in the back.”

  “Have you spoken to Frank about your concerns, if you think he’s going to turn on us?”

  “No, I came straight to you.”

  “And how long have you had this ... feeling about Brian?”

  “Well. It’s been a while but our trip to get the guns sealed the deal for me.”

  “How so?”

  “He started whoring around while the merchandise was still in the trunk. And I just don’t think that’s what I want in a business partner.”

  “I understand. So what do you want of me, apart from to hear your concerns?”

  “If things go down on the day, I want to know you’ve got my back and I have your permission to do what needs to be done to take care of business.”

  “Of course you do. Is there anything else you want to talk to me about?”

  “No, sir.”

  “Then let’s get the fuck out of this shit-hole. It’s damper than my wife’s pussy.” And with that, Lagotti stood up and left, sandwiched between Paul and Luigi, both of whom had remained perfectly still throughout the whole conversation, apart from Luigi’s one nod.

  Lagotti knew Pete would kill Brian at some point after he came out of the bank with Frank and the other one. But he also knew this would be the least of Pete’s problems because there would be no money coming out with them. And that would make him mad and try to do something silly. So Paul and Luigi would need to be on hand to deal with the inevitable situation.

  Back at the auto shop, Lagotti sat back in his chair and flipped his feet onto his desk. A move he’d done a thousand times before. He sat still for a second or two, thinking.

  “For a driver, that Pete sure loves to whack people. If he was more stable and less racist, he’d go far. But a man of quality should be able to get along with all sorts of people, not just the ones he can tolerate.”

  Lagotti grabbed the reading material from his desk drawer and settled back for an afternoon’s rest and relaxation.

  ◆◆◆

  The following Wednesday, Carter arrived at Frank Senior’s slightly breathless. He’d walked at quite a pace to catch the bus from round the corner of the bank. Cheaper than grabbing a taxi and a damn sight more reliable. But there’d been traffic en route and everyone had taken slightly too long to get on and off and pay and such.

  Now he found himself stood in front of the man instead of just handing over an envelope to one of his goons. Carter was scared shitless. The man hadn’t seen him for months and now he was stood in front of the guy he owed thousands to. And the last time they’d seen each other, Frank Senior had told him he was going to rob his own bank. Jesus! What now?

  As usual, Lagotti had his head stuck inside a picture magazine and ignored Carter for quite a while. He always did that to whoever came into his office.

  “Make ‘em wait,” he thought.

  So finally, Frank Senior looked up and dropped his feet off his desk and onto the floor.

  “Do you have anything for me, then?”

  “Of course. Here it is,” and Carter took an envelope out of his inside jacket pocket and placed it on Frank Senior’s desk.

  “You wanted to see me? I usually leave the package for you. I mean, have I done anything wrong? Or anything?”

  “Don’t you fret, now. I just thought it’d be nice for us to have a chat.”

  “Oh ... okay.” Carter relaxed slightly because he had an ominous sinking feeling from the second he was told to go in and see Frank Senior until now, forty-three seconds later.

  “I wanted to remind you of our agreement. Of how you are going to help me in your bank. And how one day, Luigi will come to your apartment and let you know to bring the case in. And the next day, you’ll put the paper money from the vault into that case and walk out of the bank with it at the end of the day.”

  “Yessir.”

  “And I mean whatever happens, you leave at the end of the day with that case. Do you understand me? Whatever happens.”

  “Yessir, for sure. I’ll leave with the case.”

  “At the end of the day.”

  “Sure.”

  Swirling vipers twirled around the knots in Carter's stomach. This was real, all too real. Why had he been so stupid to double up all those times? Why had he gone round and borrowed so much money from so many people he ran out of options who to borrow from next? Until the only person left to borrow from was Frank Senior with his insanely high vig and his bank robbing interest. The more Carter thought about it, the more unsettled his stomach became.

  “Don’t fuck with me on this one.”

  “I won’t.”

  “Fuck with me and you are a dead man, you hear?”

  “Get outa here. You’ll be fine.”

  All Carter could do was to clench his ass cheeks, nod and leave. As soon as he’d left the room, he started to feel better. That was one scary muchachos. And today neither Paul, Luigi nor the matchstick chewing mute could freak him out as much as Frank Senior had just done.

  15

  This whole idea with the case was beginning to become real in Carter’s head. He’d need to find one as inconspicuous as could be, given it needed to hold all the cash in the vault. That’d be one mighty big bag. Unless he could convince Frank Senior he should only take the racks, which would be worth the most and take up the least space. For interstate business, they also had some thousand dollar bills in stock and they’d take up nearly no space at all.

  By the time this mental meander had finished, Carter was at the door of the First Bank of Baltimore, Lansdowne branch, and entered the building. As always, he was greeted by the security guard, old man Grimble.

  “Hey, Joe.”

  Joe nodded back at him but kept his eyes unswervingly on the customers and the main area of the bank.

  “Hello, Mr. Reinfeldt.”

  Carter smiled briefly and walked past, heading for his desk. Grimble was a decent enough man, but was way past retirement age. He’d been kept on by JH principally because he was cheap and because this was a quiet branch of a quiet bank in a quiet part of town. Their idea of trouble was being a couple of dimes short on the cash reconciliation at the end of the day.

  Before he could get to his chair, Carter was accosted by George, the deputy manager who also happened to be JH’s son. George Hunkerton had obtained his position at the First Bank of Baltimore’s Lansdowne branch by emanating from Joshua Hunkerton’s seed. The only job young George could get was working for his father because he was stupid and incapable and everyone knew it. Even George. But to hide the truth from himself, he bossed people around as much as he could because he believed that was the best way to show his authority and to gain respect. He was wrong on both counts, which exemplified how stupid he was.

  Seeing Carter head towards his desk when he should already have been sat there after lunch was a perfect opportunity for George to prove his superiority to Carter and the rest of the staff.

  “You’re late back from lunch, Mr. Reinfeldt.”

  “Am I, George? Never mind, I’m only a couple of minutes over.”

  Like all the staff, Carter called George by his first name precisely because
George wanted everyone to use his last name, just as they did out of respect for his father.

  George scowled at Carter as he sat down at his desk and fiddled with his index cards and diary.

  “Well, keep an eye on the time in future.”

  “Oh, I will, George. I will,” and Carter picked up his phone as if he was going to make a call. George stood there for a second or two, mumbled something unintelligible under his breath and sidled off back to his own desk.

  Across the reception area, Miss. Galtieri and Mrs. Pieck were busy with customers. Mrs. Pieck was counting out five dollar bills for a local businessman but Miss. Galtieri looked straight at Carter and when he caught her eye, he winked at her and she raised her eyes to the heavens as if to say: “What a pain that George is.”

  JH stayed in his office in the early part of the afternoon. He was either in meetings with the richer customers of the bank or discussing strategy and plans with Bob Cranford. One day Carter would take his assistant manager’s job. In most branches it wasn’t much to write home about, but with George as useful as treacle, it actually was the second most important role as JH’s right-hand man.

  Carter was attracted by the power and by the extra few thousand a year. Once he became assistant manager, he’d have enough money not just to pay for an apartment for Mary Lou, but have enough to start a new life with her and leave Rita. And they could move out of the state and he could get a bank manager’s job somewhere else, somewhere he could make a mark for himself without being dragged down by Rita and her negativity. About him and about what he did. And Mary Lou would be with him and they’d have a lovely house with a lovely garden and a lovely car. And they’d have some lovely children too.

  ◆◆◆

  But, as ever, that night Carter went home to Rita and not Mary Lou. Their house was a bit out of town on the corner of Hazel and Baltimore Avenue. Not that far from the interstate which made it cheaper to buy, but it still had a white picket fence, flower beds and more rooms than Carter and Rita needed. They had planned on staying there forever with enough space for their family, but there was no family because they had no children. And no prospect of them either unless they adopted, but Rita wanted her own and not to look after someone’s reject child, so she said, and Carter agreed with her.

  They had found out Rita’s tubes were fucked two years ago and since then, things had got tense between them. It had got to the point where they were two people, sharing a last name, but living almost entirely separate lives under the same roof.

  The only moments of connection were dinner time and the fact they shared the same bed. They’d occasionally make love but the pleasure was gone. It was almost like it was for old time’s sake rather than anything else.

  It was no surprise when he came home, Carter found Rita in her sewing room, having put the dinner in the oven a short while before. He went down into the living room, poured himself a scotch on the rocks, and settled into his leather easy chair, holding the squat glass in his hand, slowly rotating it to cool the drink down with the three ice cubes floating in it. He stayed there until Rita called him into the dining room to eat.

  They sat down opposite each other, having only said a couple of words to each other since Carter had entered the house some forty-five minutes ago.

  “Thanks.”

  “You’re welcome. Only took me a short while to rustle up.”

  They both looked down at the casserole and knew that Rita had spoken the truth. Quarter of an hour chopping vegetables and a few seconds to shove it in the oven. Done.

  “Tastes good.”

  The silence of their lives enveloped them as they chewed on diced pieces of beef, carrot, potato and onion. Rita was pretty with light brown hair down to her shoulders and a cute, pointy nose. And pointy breasts. But Carter knew he no longer loved her and believed if he was going to leave her he should provide for her too. After all, they had vowed to stay together through thick and thin so he owed her if he was going to depart her shores.

  They had been attractive shores at one point. Now Rita left him cold; no, not so much cold as empty. Besides, she’d be fine. She felt the same way towards him. He knew this by the way she looked at him. And she’d find a much better guy with the turn of her head. Rita was a fine woman with fine looks and a mighty fine way of cooking. He just needed to leave her.

  ◆◆◆

  And the first real step to do that was to get a case and do Frank Senior’s bidding. But the germ of an idea was taking root inside Carter’s head. He thought if he was going to take the risk of stealing the money and get away with it, why not take the money for himself and leave the state? That way, he wouldn’t have to worry about paying Frank Senior back and he’d have more to spend on his new life with Mary Lou.

  Now, Carter wasn’t absolutely sure about this idea because he knew there was quite a risk. If he tried to pull this off and failed, Frank Senior would most definitely kill him. But if it came good he’d be set for life.

  Carter kept on thinking through the germ of this idea over the next few days. He reckoned he needed a couple of things to happen for his half-formed plan to work. First, he needed to swap the money out of the case so he could give Frank Senior’s henchmen what they were expecting to give himself enough time to get away. The second thing was to make sure his getaway was fast and final because there was no way back. And the third thing was Mary Lou needed to be lined up to leave that evening after he’d passed a case full of bricks over to Frank Senior.

  And that was as far as he’d got. The big weakness, he knew, was in switching out the money for something heavy and not getting caught out. The other way to play it would be to not do a switch and just take the money and run. Of course, that assumed none of Frank Senior’s men would be watching him during the day.

  By the end of the weekend, Carter had figured out a third way, which dealt with all the problems of his first two plans. He’d wait until the end of the day, in case he was being watched, and then instead of going to the meet up, he’d grab his car, pick up Mary Lou and off they’d go, leaving Frank Senior and Rita far behind them.

  While Carter lay awake in bed on Sunday night putting the finishing touches to his thoughts, Rita was beside him, with her back to him. He turned towards her and rested his hand on her hip. She smiled, pleased there was still some connection between them despite all their problems. He moved his hand round to her front, stroking her thigh as he traveled. He placed his fingers between her legs and fingered her for several minutes until her heavy breathing actually made him hard. Then he mounted her and came inside her.

  “That’ll keep her happy for a while,” he thought as he rolled off and headed towards sleep, knowing a new day would soon be dawning.

  Monday lunchtime, Carter went off to the Lansdowne store to buy two black cases. They’d be about the same size as each other and large enough to cope with a reasonable amount of notes. He’d grab the hundreds and twenties only because the thousands would be impossible for him to spend without arousing suspicion.

  When he got to the store, he explained to Mr. Oakesen he was looking for a couple of Christmas presents for his wife’s family. Something that didn’t just look good, but would be sturdy too, so they’d actually want to use them.

  Oakesen quickly found three contenders and Carter bought two of them, insisting Oakesen put both in big carrier bags. And when he got back to the bank, Carter put both bags in his locker, having removed them from their carriers. And they remained in the bank until the day of the robbery.

  16

  Carter had to work late that night as far as Rita was concerned. She didn’t mind because for the first time in months, he had satisfied her the night before. He’d phoned Mary Lou and arranged to meet her at their apartment. On his way over, he bought some cut flowers and brought a spring in his step, which Mary Lou had not noticed before.

  She cooked some spaghetti with a bolognese sauce. It tasted like nothing he’d had before, but this said much more about his ment
al state than it did about Mary Lou’s cooking. Not that she wasn’t handy in a kitchen, but tonight Carter wore his optimism in a prism through which he saw everything.

  He mopped up the remaining sauce on his plate with some bread and licked his fingers where some tomato sauce had smeared itself onto his hand. Something Rita would never allow him to do. “Manners maketh man,” she said. “BS,” he thought and Mary Lou wondered what the hell Carter was on to keep him this high. She couldn’t imagine it might be happiness or hope as she’d rarely experienced an emotion even close to that during her adult life.

  “You’re in a good mood today, aren’t you?” said Mary Lou, after they’d done the washing up and were sat down on the sofa.

  “Yeah, it’s been quite a few days.”

  “How so, dear?” While Mary Lou was here to extract information from Carter, she had started to get attached to him in a way she had not expected. He was just a mark when the game began.

  “Well, an opportunity has arisen that’ll mean we can be together properly. Without Rita in the picture, I mean.”

  “What? What opportunity?”

  “I could be coming into some money. A lot of money.”

  “How? Money?”

  “Money, yeah,” laughed Carter nervously. This was the first time he’d spoken out loud about his idea.

  “It’s a good news and bad news story.”

  “Oh?”

  “Yeah. Look, I’ve been in a bit of bother the last year.” With those words, Mary Lou’s heart sank. Just another loser with a hard luck tale.

  “Owed some money to some people from some gambling debts. But I can get out from under the situation in the next few months. They want me to steal for them and then I’ll be square with them.” This is too freaky, thought Mary Lou.

  “But if I steal from them, they can’t do anything because they’re hardly going to go to the police and complain the money they were robbing has been stolen from them!”