The Lagotti Family Series Read online

  Contents

  Copyright

  The Lagotti Family Series

  Book one - The Heist

  August 1

  2

  3

  4

  5

  6

  December 7

  8

  9

  10

  11

  12

  13

  14

  15

  16

  March 17

  18

  19

  20

  21

  22

  23

  24

  May 25

  26

  27

  28

  29

  30

  31

  32

  Monday, June 16 33

  34

  35

  36

  37

  38

  39

  40

  41

  Tuesday, June 17 42

  43

  44

  45

  46

  Book two - The Getaway

  1956 1

  Tuesday June 17, 1968 2

  3

  4

  5

  6

  7

  8

  9

  10

  11

  Wednesday June 18 12

  13

  Thursday June 19 14

  15

  16

  17

  18

  Saturday June 21 19

  20

  Sunday June 22 21

  Tuesday June 24 22

  23

  Wednesday June 25 24

  25

  26

  Thursday June 26 27

  28

  29

  30

  31

  32

  Friday June 27 33

  34

  Saturday June 28 35

  36

  Sunday June 29 37

  38

  39

  40

  41

  Book three - Powder

  Los Angeles, Sunday June 29, 1968 1

  2

  Monday July 7, 1968 3

  Saturday October 20, 1962 4

  Saturday October 27, 1962 5

  November 1968 to November 1969 6

  7

  February 1971 8

  9

  March 1971 10

  11

  12

  13

  Good Friday April 9, 1971 14

  15

  Saturday April 10, 1971 16

  17

  18

  19

  20

  21

  22

  23

  24

  25

  26

  27

  Easter Sunday April 11, 1971 28

  29

  Monday April 12, 1971 30

  31

  32

  33

  34

  35

  36

  37

  38

  39

  Tuesday April 13, 1971 40

  41

  Book four - Mama's Gone

  February 1997 1

  2

  1973 3

  4

  1994 5

  6

  7

  8

  1995 9

  10

  11

  12

  13

  14

  15

  16

  17

  18

  19

  1996 20

  21

  22

  23

  24

  25

  26

  27

  January 1997 28

  29

  30

  31

  32

  33

  34

  35

  36

  37

  February 1997 38

  39

  40

  41

  42

  43

  44

  45

  46

  47

  Review this Book

  Other Books by the Author

  Free Extras

  About Leopold Borstinski

  Text copyright © 2017-2019 by Leopold Borstinski

  Published by Sobriety Press

  Cover design by James at www.GoOnWrite.com

  ##

  The right of Leopold Borstinski to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted by him in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.

  All rights reserved. This is a work of fiction. All characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious, and any resemblance to real people or events is purely coincidental. Published by Sobriety Press. No part of this publication may be reproduced in whole or in part, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise without written permission of the publisher. Any person who does any unauthorised act in relation to this publication may be liable to criminal prosecution and civil claims for damages.

  This book is sold subject to the condition that it shall not, by way of trade or otherwise, be lent, re-sold, hired out, or otherwise circulated without the publisher’s prior consent in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition including this condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser. For information regarding permission, contact [email protected].

  ISBN 978 1 913313 01 2

  The Heist: Second Edition 2018. First published 2017

  The Getaway: First published 2018

  Powder: First published 2018

  Mama’s Gone: First published 2019

  For more information please visit LeopoldBorstinski.com

  ##

  The Lagotti Family Series

  Books 1-4

  By

  Leopold Borstinski

  BOOK ONE

  THE HEIST

  AUGUST

  1

  FRANK WAS OUT the can two minutes and already he knew he wanted money. A lot of money. So much money he knew he wasn’t getting it from the recruitment pages of the local paper. He wanted dirty money. Money you can only get if you mix with the kind of guys who’ve got ideas. The kind of guys Frank was stuck in a cell with. The kind of guys who’ve got connections. Real connections with real guys. Frank was hungry for greenbacks.

  Like many of us, Frank had dreams, big dreams. Big dreams of a big life. Fast cars, faster girls and a fancy suit or two. The kind of life he’d seen on a million TV shows. Only Frank thought it was real. Thought he really could have one of those TV lives.

  There’s nothing wrong with dreams. Unless they catch you full in the chest and knock you for seven. Then there can be something wrong with dreams. But Frank’s problem wasn’t his dreams. It was his wallet and his wallet was empty. So he needed to find a way to fill it. To plug his gap.

  People say that being in the joint is like going to a criminal university and Frank had passed his final exam with flying colors. He’d spent his two years of incarceration keeping his head down, so he’d get paroled early. And he listened and learned from the men around him. How to pick a good location, how to find someone on the inside you can leverage. All the little details that turn a half-baked plan into a complete apple pie.

  So when Frank walked through the gates of the Baltimore penitentiary, he knew exactly what he was going to do. Knew exactly how to get that pot of money he had spent two long years dreaming about.

  Of course, there was something else he’d been dreami
ng about too. Or rather, trying not to dream about. Because some dreams just leave you weak, not able to concentrate on the matter at hand. And in the joint that kind of concentration can get you killed.

  When the last gate clanged shut and Frank was standing on free soil and breathing in free air, there was the other thing of his dreams. Mary Lou’s tight-fitting pants and all that was hidden beneath them.

  There she stood, with one hand on her hip and the other holding a bottle of tequila in a brown paper bag, nice and legal like. A denim shirt with the ends tied on one side to show off that flat stomach and the tattoo of a rose three inches below her belly button, just peeping out from her jeans and a thick brown belt.

  Frank smiled and Mary Lou ran towards him, teetering on her high white plastic heels until she reached him and flung her arms round his neck and planted her lips on his. She sure was pleased to see him. And how has it been these last few days since my last visit? And do you think my hair looks good as I got it cut special for you, Frank? And this and that and the other. And all Frank wanted to do was to lie down with that bottle of tequila and fuck Mary Lou’s brains out.

  LIKE SO MANY prisons, the penitentiary was built in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by flat, grassy fields. And as Mary Lou didn’t own an automobile, they waited thirty-five minutes for the next bus back to Halethorpe.

  Frank stood, back straight, with his left arm draped over Mary Lou’s shoulder while his right hand clung to the tequila. Occasionally he’d stroke the back of her neck with his thumb, more to show interest than out of any genuine sense of affection. His mind was split between his dreams, the tequila and her bush. And every few seconds, he would flit from one thought to the next. By the time the bus showed up, Frank figured his dreams could wait until the morning, provided he got a serious dose of tequila and ass tonight.

  The bus journey took over an hour, by the time it had made the long stretch into town and zigzagged its way from downtown to midtown to a block away from Mary Lou’s apartment. A rented, brownstone affair with peeling paint in the hall and a bare lightbulb in front of her door, 3F.

  The first thing Frank did when they got inside was to strip to the waist, throwing his shirt onto the floor.

  “We’ll get you some fresh clothes tomorrow, honey.”

  And then he sat down in front of the TV, switched it on and started flipping through the channels until he found something familiar.

  He didn’t notice his chair was less than one arm’s stretch from the double bed and the kitchenette was only slightly further away on the other side. Mary Lou hadn’t wasted any bucks on this boutique accommodation. And no-one would care about who came and went.

  Half a bottle of tequila later and Frank was ready to focus his attention on Mary Lou. He pushed her roughly down on the bed and, at the same time, she undid the zipper on her jeans. He pulled them off, one leg at a time. And stood there, swaying, as he stared at her white frilly panties and the tattooed rose peeking out from the top of them. Then, with one more swig of tequila, he staggered and fell backwards, landing back on the armchair. Snored loudly, drunk-asleep.

  Mary Lou sighed, put her hand inside her panties and fingered herself until she came. Twice. “Not tonight, Frank. Tonight’s just not your night.” Mary Lou fell asleep a short while after, half-content with the flickering thought rattling around her pretty young skull: whether her Frank was ever going to make her truly happy.

  AT SOME POINT during the night - and neither of them had a clue quite when - Frank woke up just long enough to stand up, undo his pants, walk out of them and lie on the bed next to Mary Lou.

  Some crappy time well before nine in the morning a bus wheezed past, waking Frank up with a start. Mary Lou had been living there long enough not be bothered by this municipal alarm clock anymore. He rolled over and eyed Mary Lou’s body up and down. First her head, then her neck. Then her tits which were peeking through her bra. Then her belly, her panties and her legs. He finished with her feet, toes curled in sleepy repose.

  He put his hand under her bra on her nearest tit, squeezing the nipple until Mary Lou groaned and half opened her eyes. She smiled slightly and shut her eyes again. Then she arched her back and undid the white bra so that Frank wouldn’t have to try too hard. He squeezed her nipple more and then covered her breast with his whole palm, massaging and squeezing it until Mary Lou groaned again.

  She put her hand on his dick and brushed her thumb through the material of his shorts. At that moment, Frank came. After all, he’d been jerking off for the best part of two years and wasn’t really ready for anything much more than that.

  Mary Lou understood and started kissing him on the stomach, moving downwards and pulled his shorts to his knees. She licked his limp dick until it got hard again and sucked him off. It was the least she could do under the circumstances.

  An hour or two later, when they were sat in a nearby diner having eggs, toast and coffee for breakfast, Frank told Mary Lou of his dreams and the next job he had cooked up in jail.

  He had learned a lot from the last caper he was on. This time, he’d run the gang and not rely on some other guy to look after the little details: like making sure they had a wiring diagram of the joint so’s they could cut off all alarms to the cops. And it would need to be a bank because robbing supermarkets and gas stations would only make them chump change and that was no good. Frank wanted a big enough haul so they could head out west to Vegas or even California, maybe. Somewhere you could live like a king on a small fortune and no-one’s going to ask too many questions about how you came into the money in the first place.

  A couple of miles down the road was Lansdowne, a town big enough for more than one bank, so they could take their pick of whichever one had the richest take. They would spend the next few days checking them out and decide which one to go for. Then the plan would be for Mary Lou to get to know someone on the inside so’s they could get hold of plans and have a real good look inside without anyone getting suspicious. And then she’d fade away from the scene months before the job itself was done so no-one would suspect a thing. It would be like taking candy from a baby.

  That night, Frank came inside Mary Lou for the first time in twenty-five months. After he’d fallen asleep, Mary Lou fingered herself again and came twice. Only this time she wasn’t wearing any panties.

  2

  MARY LOU WOKE up feeling refreshed, for the first time since she could remember. “Maybe you should lay off the tequila more often, Mary Lou Belle,” she told herself. She rolled over and saw the hulk of a man lying next to her. Could feel the hairs of his legs touching hers. She spooned him while he slept, smelling his back and resting her head near his neck. Cocooned in a cuddle that felt like it lasted forever. Immersed in a calm state of comfort with a man who cared for her and cared about her. She stroked his side and felt down his right leg until her arm couldn’t reach any further. Slid her hand back up his thigh and rested her hand on his balls and dick, cupping them in her fingers. Gently stroking them until he opened an eye, muttered something under his sleepy breath and took her hand so that all her fingers were wrapped around his now quite hard penis. The corners of his mouth rose up in a half smile.

  “Hey, babe.”

  “Hi. You like that?” she whispered in his ear and then grabbed his earlobe between her lips.

  “Not as much as if you sit on me.”

  He rolled over, facing upwards and Mary Lou put one of her legs over his and pushed herself on top of his body. Then she used her arms to get her torso upright and she bent her legs so their pubes touched and she was balanced nicely with enough room to make her pelvic floor thrusts count for something.

  “Oh Carter, I do love it when you’re horny in the mornings,” she giggled. And they carried on until she had come twice, the second time when he’d gone down on her while his dick was still dripping, licking the tattooed rose until he found her bush, following the tattooed stem downwards until his tongue was inside her.

  Afterwards, the
y cuddled more and dozed until the sun stopped shining through the Lansdowne apartment window. Carter had paid a month’s rent in advance. Cash, no questions asked. A perfect arrangement for a trysting place.

  THE FIRST TIME Mary Lou met Carter she’d gone into the bank to find out about savings accounts because Frank thought that would be an easy in. She planned to wander round the bank, ask for a flyer, check out any security guards and cameras, and then get out quick.

  But instead, Carter caught her eye, sat at his desk with a photo of his wife and his wedding ring clearly on his finger. His hair was greased back to reveal a high crown and widow’s peak beneath a shock of black hair, obviously dyed as the roots were beginning to show.

  Mary Lou teetered over to him and asked if she could sit down. “Sure thing miss,” he said, standing up and walking round to her side of the desk to pull the chair out and politely allow her to sit in it. As he went back, he adjusted his tie and absentmindedly touched himself. She knew then he was her mark. Nervous and aroused, just by seeing a young woman standing near him. He touched his wedding ring before finally sitting himself down, facing her.