The Lagotti Family Series

by Leopold Borstinski

  There was one exception: a black Cadillac parked at the end, blocking all three vehicles from exiting the makeshift parking lot. Stood next to the Cadillac were two men Frank and Brian recognized.

  Paul and Luigi were there to collect the take for Frank’s Shylock and money-laundering uncle, Frank Senior. Frankie to close family and friends. Nothing was out the ordinary so Frank and Brian stepped out the van to greet Frankie’s heavies.

  WHEN MARY LOU sped out the back of the bank lot, she contained a maelstrom of emotions. Her Barracuda took her away from the man she thought she loved and back into the arms of a man who’d have worked out she’d betrayed him.

  South onto Hollins Ferry Road and her thoughts were with Carter. He’d spent months telling her he would clear his gambling debt to Uncle Frankie by stealing from the bank on the day the gang was due to appear. Then he hatched a plan to steal from Frankie too. Instead of fleeing for her life, he was meant to be sat beside her with a bag full of cash.

  When he was a no-show, Mary Lou figured the smartest thing was to head to the barn and see if Frank got to the money instead. This would have been perfect were it not for one small detail. As she drove away from the First Bank of Baltimore, she noticed the silence. She might have placed the explosives on the poles near the bank but with all the stress of the morning, she’d forgotten to set the timers. Frank would be pissed.

  If that wasn't bad enough, Mary Lou had no idea why Carter hadn't appeared. Frank might have singled him out and done who knows what. She couldn't let herself pursue that idea for too long as it made her want to cry. If Carter was a sap, so be it, but he didn't deserve anything bad to happen to him.

  She remembered the words of advice she’d received repeatedly. Drive under the limit. Don't jump any lights. Don’t give the cops any excuse to pull you over. You’re just a single girl in a powerful sports car out for a tour of the countryside.

  Far off in her rearview mirror: a flashing red light. Mary Lou's heart sunk and her stomach tightened. Her bowels churned. A blue and white gained on her every time she checked its position.

  “Steady, steady. Keep your nerve.”

  Within a minute, she caught sight of the face of the driver clear as day, his car tucked in behind hers. She took her foot off the gas just for a second to give him the opportunity to pass her more easily, which he did. Hers was the only vehicle in the vicinity so he gunned his Chevrolet and sped off in front. Five minutes later, it had gone beyond the horizon. Almost instantly, so it felt, the barn appeared and Mary Lou slowed down and passed the building by six hundred feet or more.

  She let the Barracuda glide to a halt hidden among some undergrowth next to two trees. If anyone was already at the meeting point, she hoped they wouldn't have heard her arrival. She popped open the glove compartment and took out a small snub nose Pete had left for her in case of any trouble. He was a great getaway driver. Despite that, Mary Lou reminded herself the guy had been a creep every time he’d been anywhere near her and she should cut his throat before they were through.

  Mary Lou opened her door as quietly as she could and kept it ajar. She scampered out of the undergrowth and ducked from one tree or bush to the next until she made her way back to the barn.

  The building itself fell into disrepair a decade ago and the far wall had collapsed several years before then. The wooden structure contained a window on each of its short sides and a door and two windows on the remaining front side. These were just shutters now: the glass shattered and fallen away long ago.

  Mary Lou pushed the side shutter and revealed the derelict and empty building inside. There was a fence running down the middle to tie up farm animals and she made out pens on the far side. She barely lifted the shutter a few inches, so her view onto the back was limited. She knew the cars were out there somewhere but she couldn't see them. She closed the shutter to make sure it didn't slam shut and sneaked along the wall toward the back. At the corner, she espied the three cars but saw a fourth black one parked in front of them all. Strange, that wasn't part of the plan.

  She inched her head out further and recognized two men leaning against the far side of the car: Luigi and Paul, Frankie’s goons. She shivered because they creeped her out. Old school mafiosi in the making. Uncle Frankie was connected for sure.

  The white van appeared which was strange as Pete drove a Chevy Impale, not that lump of a thing. Mary Lou craned further and witnessed two men get out, not the four who went to the bank. The others could be in the back but she’d thought they’d all want to head the fuck out of Dodge, as Frank used to say.

  First she recognized Brian. He'd been in the passenger seat. Due to the morning's sunlight, the other guy was in the direct path of the sun so all Mary Lou could see was his silhouette. Five seconds later, she saw Frank’s face and a tear rolled down her cheeks. He was safe.

  The men stood and talked a while. She couldn't hear a single word because they were too far away. Then they pulled out guns and fired at each other.

  3

  “LET’S BE CAREFUL out there, Brian. Frank Senior won’t be happy with the way things have turned out so far.”

  “Okay, Frank.”

  The men slipped out the van leaving their doors wide open. Frank eyed Paul then Luigi and they both stayed leaning against their limousine. Relaxed.

  Frank took two steps toward them, stopped and Brian mirrored him.

  “Hey boys.”

  “Hi, Frank.”

  Paul had never spoken so much to Frank the whole year since he was out the can. Luigi remained his usual silent self.

  “Radio said you robbed a bank this morning.”

  “Yep. Shows there are some things you can believe on the radio.”

  “Big haul?”

  “Big enough, I reckon.”

  Beat.

  “Not like we've had any time to count it.”

  “Got it with you though?”

  “Yes. It’s safe with us.”

  “What about the others? Four of you walked into the bank. That was the plan. There's only you two and your goomah's missing.”

  “Plans change. Andrew and Pete didn't make it. No idea about Mary Lou.”

  “Didn't make it. Any loose ends?”

  “Nope. Both bodies in the getaway car and we torched the fucking lot.”

  “That explains the van.”

  “It got us here... So you haven't seen Mary Lou? She’s not been here?”

  “Uh-uh. No sign of the skirt.”

  “And did you bring some seed money? Frank Senior promised us seed money while he laundered the take.”

  “He did.”

  “So you got it?”

  Frank became tetchy. Why was Paul so casual when Frank hoped they’d be on their way within minutes of arriving?

  “Sure. You in a rush?”

  “Paul, we've robbed a bank and the police are swarming all over the place. Can we get a move on?”

  “Thought you might want to wait a while for your blanket warmer.”

  “She knows the score. Be here or don't and take the consequences.”

  Frank looked around as though mention of her would make Mary Lou appear in a puff of smoke.

  “Let me grab your working capital.”

  Paul lifted his body off the Caddy and opened the front passenger door, while Luigi stood upright. Brian turned to go into the van but Frank glared at him until he stopped. Brian edged nearer the door without noticing himself do it.

  As Paul spun round, Frank spotted a black barrel and whipped out his revolver and aimed it at Paul. A flash and a roar as Luigi’s gun let rip and Frank hit the dirt. He rolled over and hid behind the driver’s side door.

  Bullets flew and amid the whizzes and bangs, red spurt out of Luigi’s left shoulder but he didn't go down. Instead, the ox stood there and blasted towards both himself and Brian. Frank aimed at Luigi’s heart and squeezed out a shot. It landed square and true and Luigi crumpled in an instant. One down, one remaining.

  “H
ow you doing Brian?”

  No answer.

  “Brian?”

  Nothing.

  Frank hunkered down as slugs continued to fly in his direction. He checked his revolver: two left in the chamber. Patted his pockets and found he had no spares. Rolling under the van, he got close to Brian’s body which was lying face up. One pool of blood around his stomach, another round his forehead. Two good shots.

  Frank dragged the corpse behind the passenger door and checked each of Brian’s coat pockets. There was a box, but it only had three shells in it. He stuffed them into the chamber but he knew it wouldn't be enough.

  Frank squeezed off one shot at Paul and missed. Paul responded with a dozen slugs which flew over Frank’s head and around his feet. No time to think.

  Paul scampered round the other side of the Cadillac and Frank couldn’t figure out where he was. Another burst of fire aimed where Frank was squatting so Paul still had him in his sights. Frank rolled back under the van and stayed there. Five seconds. Ten seconds. Silence.

  This was not the OK Corral and he had too few pills for any kind of gunfight. Either Frank needed to be nearer to Paul or he should wait for Paul to come to him.

  The space between the cars gave little room for any sneaky maneuvers and there was an open field further out. Get into the barn and scoot round the wasteland which had grown up since the place became derelict? Not a great idea.

  Stay put and wait? A hail of bullets landed around the driver door as Paul assumed Frank had gone back to his original side. Perhaps Paul didn't have as good a line of sight as Frank thought. Didn't mean the new plan should change though.

  All Frank could think about was his breathing which sounded like a hurricane to his ears. He focused on looking at both sides of the van to wait for Paul’s calves but the sound of his hair swooshing the dirt was far too noisy. An earthquake in his head.

  His bright idea quickly turned the space below the vehicle into a death cell. He realized that now. There were no more stray bullets. No more bursts from Paul at all. Frank strained to hear Paul’s footsteps, but the wind picked up and the rustling of the trees took over from any other noise.

  Two feet appeared just out of reach from Frank’s head, facing towards him. He aimed his revolver at one calf and squeezed the trigger. Click. The damn gun jammed. He tried a second time. Click. Nothing. Damn. Paul bent down and Frank saw an eye looking right at him with the guy’s semi-automatic pointing straight to his head.

  A SINGLE SHOT rang out and Paul slumped to the ground, parts of his brain flying to the left and landing on the van door.

  “You okay?”

  Mary Lou's voice echoed under the van with genuine concern but with an edge of fear.

  “You alone?”

  “Yep.”

  “Okay, I'm coming out on the other side.”

  When Frank got up, Mary Lou held her gun in combat position and continued to point it at Paul.

  “Relax, Mary Lou.”

  She ignored him and Frank stormed round and stood next to her. Then he placed his hands on hers, gently. Her fingers clasped the snub nose more tightly until he kissed her on the neck and the tension in her arms eased off. He took the gun off her and they walked away from the van until he’d made sure Mary Lou stood with her back to the carnage she’d created. Then he pocketed the piece.

  “Thanks.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  They kissed and hugged even though Frank still hadn't figured out what happened at the bank and whether Mary Lou had betrayed him.

  “You hurt?”

  “No. You?”

  “All good.”

  Frank surveyed the scene.

  “Where’s your car?”

  “Down the road a ways. You got any of the money?”

  Frank ground his molars.

  “Yes. We took the entire haul. Eventually.”

  “Huh?”

  “Tell you later. Now is not the time. We gotta get out of here.”

  A siren wailed in the distance. Faint but wailing nonetheless.

  Frank sprinted to the open door of the van and leaned over to grab the two bags under the front seats and yanked them out.

  “Which car?”

  Mary Lou shrugged as they all looked pretty much the same to her.

  “Blue one.”

  Frank traipsed over to the Falcon and opened the driver’s door then halted.

  “What about your Barracuda? It'll be faster than this thing.”

  “Yes but it stands out. That’s why Pete chose these family cars for us.”

  They’d go further in the Barracuda but it turned too many heads.

  “Okay, you’re right. Bring it over here and we’ll deal from there.”

  Mary Lou ran off leaving Frank to scavenge through the Caddy. A semi-automatic, several boxes of shells, but not much else. He lifted Luigi and Paul’s wallets. They had a hundred bucks on them, which was now in his coat pocket. Before getting out of their vehicle, Frank shunted the shift stick into neutral and pushed it but got nowhere. Instead he dragged the two bodies into the back of the van. Then he kneeled down by Brian.

  He put his fingers on Brian’s neck. No pulse. Frank took the cash from Brian’s wallet and threw his body into the van too. He looked around for the gas cans left in advance by the gang. Mary Lou appeared inside the sports car and Frank gestured for her to park in the field behind the barn.

  “We've a couple more guns and a pile of shells. And about two hundred bucks spending money.”

  “I've only got a few dollars on me.”

  “Same as me before I swiped the wallets.”

  Mary Lou noticed the feet sticking out the back of the van.

  “What do we do first?”

  “Help me push the Caddy towards your Barracuda.”

  Once they had the two cars close to each other, they scurried round the barn looking for the gas cans. Meanwhile the sirens felt like they were getting louder. Every minute, one of them would hold their head up, ears pricked, trying to gauge the distance. Always failing.

  Mary Lou walked into the barn and cried out.

  “Found them!”

  Frank hunkered over and counted six black cans.

  “Come on. Dowse the Caddy and Barracuda and I'll make a start on the others.”

  She walked away to follow his instructions until he gave out a shout.

  “Stop! What are we thinking?”

  Mary Lou swung round and scrunched her face up.

  “We gotta be better than this, Mary Lou. This is gasoline we’re about to splash around. Why don't we move the Falcon away from it all so when we fire up its engine, we don't make ourselves a bonfire?”

  She slapped her forehead with her palm, nodded and drove the Falcon round the corner. Now it was visible from the road if you were traveling slowly enough to notice it, hidden under a tree. Mary Lou returned and slopped gas all over the remaining cars until all the cans were empty and thrown inside the vehicles.

  Frank pulled out a match, struck it and threw it on the Caddy which lit up in twenty seconds. Orange flames licked across the bodywork and flowed along the interior leather. The yellow tongues grew in size until the wind blew in just the right direction causing a spike to transfer to the Barracuda until it, too, was a ball of reddish melting.

  He passed the matches to Mary Lou and picked up both black bags.

  “Light 'em up, babe. I'll be in the Falcon.”

  Mary Lou took the matches and watched him disappear round the corner. For a second she wondered if he would drive off without her. What had happened to Carter, Andrew and Pete?

  She shook herself out of her reverie and threw one match into each of the cars and two into the van. Only once she was certain the flames had taken hold did she walk away. Mary Lou looked back to see the clothing of the bodies catch light.

  “It’s a goddamn crematorium in there.”

  She ran to the side of the barn to watch Frank revving the engine of the Falcon. Mary Lou jump
ed into the passenger seat and closed the door.

  “Let’s get the fuck out of Dodge.”

  Frank slammed his foot onto the pedal and the car skidded around, the back end swerving right then left until the Falcon reached tarmac and its tyres found some grip.

  “Easy, Frank.”

  He laughed, gunned the saloon along the highway for about two minutes and slowed down to below the speed limit.

  “We’re out for a drive to enjoy the countryside.”

  “You said it, Frank.”

  “If the police stops us, it’ll be for a blown sidelight. The guns are in the trunk. So’s the take. There’s nothing of interest in the glove compartment. If a cop pops the hood of the trunk, we’re dead. Do whatever you need to prevent that from happening. Understood?”

  “I got it, Frank.”

  “Good.”

  Frank switched on the radio and swiveled the dials until he found his favorite station.

  “WFTX 96.4 FM, where you’re never more than 60 seconds away from quality Rock ‘n’ Roll.”

  Both hands on the wheel, he tapped along to the songs while Mary Lou sat there sinking into the passenger seat. His silence bore down on her because she thought he’d want her to explain about the explosives, if nothing else. And she knew the robbery itself was still too raw for her to ask what went wrong.

  Meanwhile, Frank was desperate to not think. He walked into the bank at 09:01 with a balaclava on his head exactly one hour ago. The security guard was dead, two of theirs were gone. No three: Brian. And Uncle Frankie sent Paul and Luigi to kill them.

  That was before he could figure out what to do with the woman sat next to him. The lack of explosions meant she sabotaged the whole job to take the money for herself and Carter. But she hadn't been out there in the parking lot to go with the chump when Frank left the bank. So what was exactly happening? And those sirens were only getting louder behind them.

  Frank Lagotti had no clue and, as far as he was concerned, the best thing right now was to drive and hum along to a bunch of songs. It had not been a good morning. In the rearview mirror, a plume of smoke rose from the barn. The flames must have reached the building itself. Halloween had come early this year.