“What was that?”
“I shot Carter in the balls before we left.”
Mary Lou pulled away from Frank, recoiling in shock. Tense.
“Wh... why?”
“Because I was jealous of him and because he looked like he was stealing my money. Besides he was a coward. He let me hurt the bank manager rather than handing the cash over. That was dishonest of him and I didn't like that.”
The image of the cashier’s slashed breast flashed across Frank’s mind but he laid it to rest as soon as it appeared. Another detail he’d omitted to mention to Mary Lou.
“So Frankie has informed on us to the FBI?”
“No babe. There’s only one thing Frankie’ll have done when he worked out we did for Luigi and Paul.”
“And that is?”
“He’d make a call to New York. Give them the bad news early. If the bank was claiming a million dollar loss and we know it was only half that then you can bet your bottom dollar that Frankie had over promised and under delivered. So a phone call was the least that man was going to need to do.”
“Then what?”
“Two things. First Frankie will have sent out other goons after us. And New York will send out some of their guys too.”
“Jeez Louise.”
“Yep. The New York connection will have influence with the Feds. They always have someone planted in the bureau. So I'm guessing Uncle Frank told them who was in the gang and they figured out the rest from there.”
“So you are saying Frankie’s guys and the mob are after us - as well as the Feds.”
“I reckon. To be honest, the Feds are the least of our worries. Frankie’s crew won't just want a return of the take: he’ll want revenge.”
“And the mob?”
“Just the money. For them this will be business and nothing personal - but they are more ruthless than anything Frankie can ever be. And relentless.”
“So what are we doing by this fire, Frank? We should be running as fast and as far as we can go.”
“Yes and no. You see, they’ll know how far a train, a car and a plane will take us each day and they can figure out which cities we are likely to show up in because of that. But if we don't run then that throws out their calculations. They’ll arrive at our destinations too early and we won't show. I'm hoping they’ll give up and try somewhere else instead.”
“And if they stick around and wait to catch us?”
“Wherever we go that’s going to be a problem. Once we get some clean money in our wallets then we can get new identities or leave the country. The ID we are using now? It’s fine to get by but Frankie will figure out who I used to forge them eventually. And the Feds will know soon after.”
“What about the mob?”
“Cut them a deal or find out why the take was so low.”
“Do you think JH embezzled some of the money?”
“Who?”
“The manager.”
“No way. That snivelling lump? Wouldn't take a dime that wasn't his.”
“The rest were too straight too.”
“Well if it wasn't someone inside the bank, must be an outside job.”
“I always thought it stupid to make that branch the one to carry so much cash overnight when the security was hardly there.”
“Set up?”
“Yeah. Do you think the branch was dirty? You know, mob run or owned or something?”
“No idea, babe. Uncle Frank was too low on the totem pole to know anything close to that and the most I saw when I was clambering up it was his ass bearing down on me.”
“Might explain a thing or two though.”
“For sure. Right now we are in the middle of a wood where only one man knows we are alive. Hank might sell weed instead of earning an honest buck, but I trust that hemp weaver more than I do my own family.”
“Know what you mean, hon’. He does seem a stand up guy.”
“He’ll be a local yokel who wants to stick it to the man.”
“You know a man who wants to stick it to someone close?”
“Now who’s talking dirty?”
Mary Lou cupped her hand around Frank’s cheek and they kissed. With the fire still roaring away, they skipped into the bedroom and hurried under the blankets. Clothing flew out from under the covers: pants, blouse, shorts and panties. Before the fire turned into glowing embers, Mary Lou and Frank fell asleep wallowing in their own juices.
FRANK SLEPT FITFULLY despite the pleasure of sharing a bed with Mary Lou. His mind flitted in a thousand directions - from Uncle Frankie to the Feds to the mob and back to the woman lying next to him. Every time he thought about one idea another thing pushed to the front of his consciousness. Despite lying naked and sticky next to Mary Lou, all he could smell was that waitress’s vanilla body.
As he drifted off to sleep, Frank found himself thinking about the three men who’d died in the last few days: Pete the Wheels, Andrew and Brian. They had all known the risks, for sure, but that didn't mean he was freed from the responsibility for their bullet-riddled corpses.
Pete was a vicious piece of work. Would spit on your shoe soon as look at you. A classic Southern States redneck with grits coursing through his veins, Pete was a great driver but showed himself to have authority issues, anger management issues and was intolerant of people who didn't share his white skin color. A streak of sadistic violence ran through him too so you needed to be careful what you said and what you did near him.
His no-nonsense approach to life was in stark contrast with Frank. He might get hot-headed now and again but his nuanced perspective meant he’d been able to keep Mary Lou and manage a gang of bank robbers. Mary Lou grounded him well; spending time in the joint calmed him down and helped Frank to focus on what was important. First getting out the can and now California - almost a year since he’d vowed to himself that was where he was heading.
Pete’s scrawny face hovered in Frank’s mind’s eye. He was a scary dude when you were in the same room as him but his clinical approach to every heist was the one benefit of having him around. Apart from the fact he knew how to drive a car.
What would Pete do if he were Frank? Simple: drive like one crazy mother until he reached Vegas. Then he’d play fast and loose until he had enough scratch to create options for himself. The man would kill to stay free - just as he’d murdered Martin almost a year ago.
Frank lapsed into unconsciousness with the image of Pete the Wheels driving from Vegas to the Canadian border. And just as he got to the customs house, he vanished from his sports car in a puff of gun smoke leaving the vehicle awash with blood pouring out the windows like a burst faucet.
SUNDAY JUNE 22
21
FRANK WOKE UP before six in a sea of sweat. Although he had slept, he was in no way refreshed. He rolled over to see Mary Lou's ass, round and perfectly smooth. One of his fingers stroked her to appreciate her beauty and she stirred, flicking his finger away like it was a fly.
He moved his head to lick her and she swatted him in the face. Dang fly. She turned over onto her back and he was close enough to the rose to lick it until he reached the stem. Mary Lou giggled a sleepy joy.
“Go on then. While you’re down there, you might as well do some good.”
THEY DOZED A while after Mary Lou had climaxed and she’d gone down on Frank to reciprocate. An hour later, Frank awoke feeling more refreshed than before. He rubbed his eyes and found himself alone in bed. Then Mary Lou appeared with a mug of coffee for each of them. She nuzzled next to him and they petted in between slurps of brown liquid.
At nine, Mary Lou glanced at her watch, rolled off her man and jumped out of bed, leaving Frank without any blankets.
“We’ve got a long drive ahead if we’re ever to make Vegas.”
“Eighteen hours I reckon.”
“Another overnight motel, then?”
“Yep.”
By the time they got to Vegas, the mob would be there waiting for them and, as Frank had pointed out, there was
no need to rush into their arms. An extra night’s sleep would set them up for when they did eventually arrive in town, but the cabin was a little snippet of luxurious safety they hadn’t known in a long while - and were unlikely to see again for even longer.
They shuffled round the rooms searching for clothes and anything else which might tie them to this place if the cops ever came calling. Bags packed, money accounted for, they put everything back in their car.
Frank stomped off to the other cabin to speak with Hank but no dice.
“Not there.”
“Shall we leave a note?”
“No. We leave nothing behind but our memories.”
Mary Lou pecked him on the cheek.
“Let’s meet our destiny.”
She scuttled off and got behind the wheel, waiting for Frank to catch up. Once they were back on tarmac, she hit the gas but never went more than five miles below the speed limit until it was Frank’s turn to take over. Mary Lou shifted the passenger seat rearward as far as it would go and leaned the seat back to give plenty of stretch.
Frank’s hand landed on her leg and the comfort of his fingers helped her to drift off to sleep.
TUESDAY JUNE 24
22
MARY LOU DROVE the car into Las Vegas, crossing the city line just before one in the morning. They came in off the Salt Lake Highway and followed the train tracks until she halted outside the Union Pacific Railroad Station.
“You want north or south?”
Frank eyed both options in the neon-lit night.
“It's the same either way. Mint or Queens Hotel: you decide.”
She chose North Main Street and stopped the car in the Mint Hotel parking lot.
“Looks like we’ve arrived.”
Frank fished out their fake ID and left Mary Lou while he went inside to book a room. They’d have a soft mattress and hot running water soon. When he returned with a key, they carried their bags themselves and, for the second time, Frank refused the offer of help from the bellboy. He had the smarts to give the guy a tip anyway. The last thing they needed in the first hour in Vegas was for some teenager with an attitude to spill his guts to a fella with connections.
Their room faced onto Fremont and looked almost directly at the Queens Hotel and the Golden Nugget. This was a gambling town for sure. The entire city reeked of greenbacks and hard luck. Even though there were famous names packing the theaters with cabaret chic, if you stayed in Las Vegas long, you needed money to burn and a barrel of self belief.
“We can’t keep these bags with us the whole time and we can’t leave them in this room either.”
“Trip to the lost luggage at the station?”
“I reckon.”
“In the morning, honey.”
“We have to assume the mob will find us soon and all they want is the money - and that’s all we got.”
“Jeez.”
“It’s getting real, babe. I can taste it too.”
“I’ll go with you.”
“No. Stay hear and run us a bath: I’ll only be two minutes. It's a swanky hotel: let's take advantage of it.”
Mary Lou watched as Frank pulled out a handful of notes and zipped the bag back up. He placed the extra green in his pants pocket and walked out the door with both bags. Down in reception, people were coming and going - unlike any other hotel Frank had seen. The casinos never sleep.
Over the road, he found the lockers for in-transit folks and opened one at the far end of a row near the floor-to-ceiling window. No-one could get close to them without being seen - and they couldn't get away without being cornered. Two sides of the same coin.
Frank stuffed a bag in a locker and found an adjacent one for the second holdall. He popped quarters into both and held the two keys in his fist all the way back to the Mint. Through the busy reception and up the elevator to the fourth floor. Turned left then right and used his hotel key to enter room 409.
He heard Mary Lou singing to herself and the splashing of water. Frank appeared round the bathroom door and saw a bath filled with soapy bubbles and Mary Lou's head bobbing above the surface. He imagined he made out the curves of her body but all he saw was white froth.
“Come in and get warm.”
Frank threw his clothes off and stepped in to join her. She rubbed the grime off his body as he sat between her thighs and then they lay in the suds stroking and massaging each other. She had thrown a towel near enough for her to dry her hands and light a cigarette which they shared.
Then they wallowed in the tepid liquid as the silence of the night engulfed them - interspersed by the giggling drunk sounds of patrons heading out to the tables or back to their rooms to console themselves over their losses. But Frank and Mary Lou were content in that bathtub sensing each other's hairs without words.
Twice they emptied some water and topped up with more hot. Mary Lou saw her wrinkled fingers and wondered if that was what she’d be like when she was old. Then she laughed inside, knowing she and Frank were not the sort of people to grow old at all.
They dried each other off with the abundant quantity of towels provided by the Mint and slipped into bed.
“These are crazy days, babe.”
“Sure, hon’. We’ve just got to be ready for whatever comes our way.”
“You said it. They’re after us and chances are they’re already here waiting.”
“If we’re getting the take laundered, this is the best place to be.”
“Yep. Which is why they’re here. They know that too because the mob cleans all the money in this town.”
“But then we’ll be free to head for the border.”
“Sure will. Get away from this hell hole.”
“Together.”
Frank looked at her, smiled and touched her cheek.
“Yes, together. We’ll make it out of here.”
“Or die trying.”
He nodded, not wanting to express that thought out loud. Mary Lou didn't mind: the truth never scared her - lies and secrets kept her awake at night and the two of them had their fill of both these past few days and weeks.
“We’re in this together. Don’t you forget that mister.”
“I know. That’s what keeps me going: being with you and wanting to spend the rest of my life with you on some beach.”
“Steady Frank. Next thing you’ll be be down on one knee and proposing.”
“Would there be anything wrong in us getting hitched?”
Mary Lou thought for a minute and realized this man may not be perfect, but he was the only guy she’d ever met who looked after her without a slap or a punch.
“Nothing wrong at all but I'm too tired to think about it tonight.”
Frank placed his fingers between her legs and headed towards her groin. She parted her knees four inches to help him in his quest.
After they’d fucked, Frank fell asleep and snored straight away while Mary Lou stayed awake thinking about marriage and the mob. Half hour later, she was snoring loudly too.
FRANK AND MARY Lou walked down South Main until they turned right onto Charleston. This end of the strip contained several bars and financing firms. They catered for a particular segment of visitor: the ones with little money and even lower chance of getting any.
The couple were heading to a loan shark recommended to them by the concierge at the Mint. This was the best option in the absence of any of Frank’s own contacts because he’d admitted to Mary Lou he couldn’t be sure he could trust them. Inside the building, Frank eyed the pawnbrokers and checked out the loot lining the shelves behind the counter. The usual mix of jewelry, musical instruments and firearms were packed onto every inch of the walls.
“Wonder if you can help?”
“What you got?”
The proprietor sat on a stool, elbows leaning on the glass counter.
“I've got some merchandise and I've been told you’re the fella to see.”
“Oh? A recommendation. Who’s been so kind?”
�
��The concierge at the Mint Hotel.”
“Good guy.”
“He brought us to you, so yes.”
“So what you got?”
“It’s delicate.”
“Come into the back for a more private conversation.”
Frank nodded and they followed Richard through a door behind his stool. The room contained a desk and three chairs.
“Talk to me about your delicate situation.”
Frank looked round and could see nothing to give him a clue whether he could trust this man.
“I have some money.”
“Then you don't need me then.”
“Well, this cash can't be spent - not retail.”
“How dirty and how hot is it?”
“Very hot and exceedingly dirty.”
Mary Lou stared at Richard’s expression desperate to divine if he was a stand up guy.
“I see. And the obvious question: how much you got?”
“Right now I'm looking to offload a few hundred dollars.”
“But there’s more?”
“Don’t you worry about that. Let’s deal with what’s on the table.”
“Okay. Nothing personal but how hot is the cash?”
“Hot.”
“Hot as in traceable or hot as in fresh from a robbery?”
“You need to price up your services. I get it. And yes, this is robbery hot.”
“Your East Coast accents make me think you’re from somewhere like Baltimore.”
“Do they?”
“I reckon. And if you've come from out there then I cannot help you. Nothing personal you understand.”
“Why does that put us out of your reach?”
“Word from above. That’s why.”
“You connected?”
Richard sat back in his chair and strummed his fingers on the armrest.
“If you’re in my business, you can’t work alone. You always need others in a similar line.”
“And?”
“And if I take on a risk, I need to offset it somewhere.”
“I thought all the junk out front was collateral for secured loans.”
The Lagotti Family Series Page 35
