The Lagotti Family Series Read online

  The last guy Andrew had seen who’d gone to Pete had vanished into thin air, so it was hardly paranoia that made Andrew concerned. Besides which, at the back of his mind was the passing thought Brian might do something stupid with Pete. Kill him or fuck him or both, only not in that order, you’d have to hope.

  9

  PETE HAD JUST enough time to grab a bottle of liquor from the Seven Eleven before it closed, dump the stolen car he’d used for the gun run, clean it up and get back to his own vehicle. Then a speedy rush along the I-95 and back to the Steers Rancho. He looked at his watch: five minutes past one and there was Lucy, stood in the doorway. Her curvy hips silhouetted in the moonlight and a brief flash of light near her head as she inhaled deeply on a Marlboro. Man, she sure was one hot babe. He swung by the main door of the diner, leaned over the passenger seat and opened the door from the inside.

  “Hey, it’s party time, doll. Hop inside.”

  Lucy threw the rest of her cigarette on the floor and stubbed it out under her heel. Exhaled the last breath of smoke and got into the open car. She shut the door, turned to Pete, placing her hand on the side of his face, drawing him in towards her. She kissed him on the lips, parting them slightly with an inquisitive tongue.

  “What’re you waiting for? You can remember where I live, can’t you?”

  “Sure thing, babe. Sure thing.”

  Pete squeezed her thigh close to her crotch, almost fingering her in the process. She opened her legs ever so slightly. And Pete pulled out of the parking lot and headed straight to her trailer around the corner and a couple of blocks south.

  When they got into Lucy’s pad, Pete popped the tequila onto the kitchen counter but Lucy picked it up immediately and poured a couple of shots for them, using some dusty glasses she found in a cupboard above the sink. She passed a glass to Pete, chinked their glasses together and knocked back the hard liquor in one gulp. Pete did the same and Lucy poured them both another. Then she sat up on the kitchen counter and Pete stood in front of her, separating her knees with his body so he could be real close. He grabbed the back of her neck and pulled her mouth towards his. They kissed and her hands were all over his back and ass. One of his was busy squeezing her tit while the other was between her thighs, rubbing her bush with his fingers. The black crotchless panties were only in his imagination because he had to push past material to get his finger inside her.

  Lucy moaned a satisfied moan and pushed her tongue deeper into his mouth to encourage him to carry on. Meanwhile, her hands were undoing his belt, unbuttoning his flies and stroking his dick from inside his shorts. She edged herself a little further forward on the counter and they fucked, Pete thrusting at her with his shorts round his knees until he came, dribbling spunk down her cabinet doors.

  Later that night, after most of the tequila had been downed, they fucked twice more: once in her bed, doggy style with her tits dangling down, just before they crashed out, and once more around ten the following morning when Pete woke up feeling horny, spat on his fingers and found Lucy’s crotch again for another round. She just about managed to wake up before he had finished, but she didn’t mind too much. She never expected much of the men she hung out with because they were all no-good no-hopers who helped her forget she was a waitress for a couple of hours. And also because that was the only sex she’d ever known: half the time Lucy would be lucky to be moist before the man’d splash his semen on her, in her or near her. So the idea she could come too was beyond her comprehension. And Pete’s as well.

  By midday, Pete had woken up again properly, made himself handy in the kitchenette frying some eggs and bacon for the two of them. Then he found his shorts and jeans and put them back on.

  “See you round, I gotta make tracks.”

  “Sure thing, babe. You come up and see me any time,” she said. Pete slapped her naked ass with a smile on his face, walked out of the trailer and headed home. “Great lay, terrible conversationalist,” he thought as he joined the I-95 back to Baltimore, not realizing he’d hardly said a word himself since the moment he entered her trailer in the early hours of the morning.

  HIS HATRED OF Pete stayed at the back of Andrew’s skull well into the afternoon. While he was chopping the vegetables and preparing the giant prawns, measuring out the rice and generally prepping for the evening meal. Getting everything ready so they could eat within twenty minutes of Brian’s return. After all, he was bound to be hungry after spending a day stuck in a tin can with Pete. So the best thing was to feed him before he got any more grumpy than he obviously was going to be under the circumstances.

  The clock ticked past six and there was still no sign of Brian. Ticked past seven and nada. Brian walked into the apartment at around ten to eight, tired, a bit sleepy, to be met with a hug from Andrew.

  “Hey, you. How was it with Pete? All go okay? Food’ll be ready in a mo’.”

  “Food? I’ve already eaten, thanks.”

  “What d’ya mean you’ve eaten already? I’ve cooked us a meal. I’ve cooked you a meal. Paella, your favorite.”

  “Thanks but, as I said, me and Pete caught a burger in a diner on the way back from Philly.”

  “No, you didn’t say. You didn’t call. I mean, you had enough time to stop at some grease joint to eat but you didn’t have enough time, apparently, to call me and let me know not to waste my time at the stove.”

  “Wait a minute.”

  “No, you wait a minute, buddy. Why the hell didn’t you call me? You knew I was going to cook. I mean, you knew that, right?”

  “Yeah, but.”

  “No, buts. You knew I was going to cook, right? So why didn’t you at least phone to let me know?”

  Silence. Brian’s molars were grinding, but he said nothing. Partly because he had a beer or two inside him and partly because Andrew was just plain right. He should have called, but it didn’t cross his mind when he and Pete walked into Lucy’s diner.

  Andrew stared at him, glaring into his eyes, flaring his nostrils. Then he turned his back on Brian, went back into the kitchen, dished himself up a big bowl of paella, sat down at the kitchen table and ate by himself.

  What a fucker, he thought, chewing on a prawn. It’s not much to ask. And why would Brian choose to spend time with Pete instead of him? It doesn’t make sense. That homophobic prick. If Andrew got the chance, he’d kill Pete. Not for taking Brian away from him this evening, but because of Martin and the way Brian was so easily manipulated by Pete to eat a burger with him. He couldn’t trust Pete. And so Andrew decided to slice the motherfucker’s stomach open and let him bleed out. Period.

  10

  A WEEK ON and Frank was pleased with himself. The half tumbledown factory was a perfect location for the group to meet. Mainly because no-one would be stupid enough to suddenly walk into the place because it was tumbledown and so obviously empty.

  The other reason he liked it was because he had been here many times before and was quite comfortable squatting among the rubble and broken bits of machinery, which were slowly rusting into oblivion. And this meant the others would be less comfortable and, like him the first time he was here, would want to get the fuck out as quickly as possible. So there shouldn’t be too many dumbass questions either. He wanted this job to go well, which meant he led and they followed.

  For their first time all together, Frank decided to run through the whole plan with the group and leave it at that for now. When they hooked up again, they could pick at the plan and find the holes in it. For now, they needed to know their part and see where it fit in the grand scheme of things.

  Frank and Mary Lou had arrived nice and early as a welcoming committee for the others. As soon as they get out of the car, Mary Lou complained if she’d known the state of the building she would have worn flats, not heels.

  Soon after, Uncle Frankie turned up with Luigi and Paul. The two stayed in the car and Frank gave his uncle directions to the room he had cleared to use for the meet up. Lagotti mumbled something under his breath abou
t a room at a cheap hotel. He proved his point when he scuffed his shoes on the way into the building past the rubble and broken machinery. Frank stayed outside to make sure everyone found their way in okay.

  Andrew and Brian appeared next. Then finally Pete the Wheels showed up in a loud, mean motor machine.

  “Good to see you, Pete, but Jeez, could you have picked a vehicle that was more likely to get you noticed?”

  “Sorry, man. Sweet ride. I’m going to drop it off for a friend after we leave here.”

  “Shit. Park it round the side, you asshole.”

  Pete gave Frank one of his trademark looks but Frank was far from impressed. Antics like that land them in jail and Frank had no intention of going back there. Including the two year stretch he finished three months ago, he’d spent a total of eight and a half years behind bars and that was without the year in juvey. More than enough time. This haul was going to be the last. He wasn’t like Uncle Frankie; he was more muscle than brains but he had his dreams and he’d figured out a way to get that to happen. Unless pricks like Pete drove brand new cars to secret bank robbery meetings. Asshole.

  WHEN FRANK CAUGHT up with the group, they were standing around talking to each other in a three-sided room on the side of the building. The fourth wall had fallen down when the termite infestation really took a hold. Not good for a food packaging plant.

  Mary Lou was clearly hoping there was a gentleman in the room to offer her his seat but she was wrong. Frank had dragged in the only chair in the factory from a nearby room so his uncle wouldn’t need to stand for the proceedings. After all, he was the big bankroll.

  The truth was Lagotti really didn’t care about the details of the plan. Who was going to do what, when and where was beyond his interest. He only cared about what would happen to his money and if his investment would be safe. So he turned up today to show his faith and support for Frank to the people Frank had picked for his team. Without this, Lagotti would have stayed at home. Besides, Frank Senior knew the key person in the scheme wasn’t even in the building: the bank clerk who was actually going to get the contents of the bank vault for Lagotti.

  Frank went through the assault on the bank itself, the drive away by Pete. Great driver that guy. Flakey as hell, but a great wheel man. Then talked about the real getaway from the town.

  The most important thing Frank omitted to talk through was how the contents of the bank was going to get into Lagotti’s hands for laundering. Simple reason: the two of them hadn’t discussed it yet. Frank hadn’t thought through that piece at all, hadn’t mentioned it to his uncle once. Lagotti was waiting to see how long it would take for Frank to get round to covering this off. Without it, Frank would have nothing but bags full of paper he couldn’t spend.

  Brian had heard of the money lender and investor ever since he first entered the business, but had never met him. Of course, almost every job he’d been on had been funded by Frank Senior. He didn’t look that special to be honest, mused Brian. I mean, he’s not that much to look at. Quite an ordinary looking guy in his late forties. He was flanked by two dudes who never said a word. Clearly his enforcers. Respect to him for that, thought Brian.

  Frank drew out a plan of the area in the dirt on the floor. Then he started talking about how they were going to get in, who was going to handle crowd control when inside the bank, - Brian and Andrew - and then how they were going to get away. All eyes turned to Pete, but he remained silent.

  They all listened intently as Frank described the bank layout, furnished by Mary Lou, and the overall plan to get in early just as the bank was opening, hit the vault for cash, notes only if possible, and then get the fuck out of town using a diversion to slow the cops down to a crawl. Simple, effective.

  Frank started going through the plan in more detail, covering each element piece by piece so everybody knew what was expected of them and what they’d be doing for the others. While they didn’t have much time to figure it out, they needed to see themselves as a team. Only trouble was: they couldn’t hang together for very long before the job because they’d be seen together and that was a no-no.

  “How’re we going to split up when we’re in the place?”

  “It’s cool, Brian. You, me and Andrew will be inside. Andrew and I will go to the vault and your job will be to keep the civilians in check. I don’t need to remind you that you need to keep them calm, keep them quiet and keep them still.”

  “Then don’t,” retorted Brian. Frank smiled.

  “No offense intended. But we both also know if you need to, waste one of them if they step out of line.”

  They were all silent for a spell because murder in the progress of a bank job raised it from a state crime to a federal crime. And that was a whole pile of shit none of them wanted but now they knew how serious this job was. If it fucked up the Feds would be after them, not a bunch of tinpot cops from the metropolitan district. And now Brian knew how far he could go with them: as far as he needed up to raping a child.

  IN THE BASEMENT, Andrew’d crack the safe if anyone had slammed it shut during the furore. They’d have no more than three minutes between entering the joint and leaving, so they’d need to shake their tails to get the money into their bags and out the back into Pete’s getaway vehicle.

  Andrew calculated if he timed it right, he could take some cash out to the car early, gut Pete and get back in for the second round before the other two knew what’d happened. And he could drive the car: he’d been the driver in previous jobs so that didn’t phase him. Besides, in the heat of the moment, neither Frank nor Brian were going to argue over who was behind the wheel.

  Mary Lou was an interesting broad to Andrew: Frank had done well for himself there. She still had her looks and, although her clothing was more whore than nun, she might have been classy once. Judging by her body language, she was clearly besotted with Frank. Eyes all over him. And Frank obviously trusted her enough to put her in with the bank manager guy.

  That dude was the weak link to this caper. Some bank employee who would make sure the safe was unlocked. Well, if he didn’t do what he was told, bad consequences ensued. Given Frank’s reputation for dropping people out of tall buildings, the appropriate motivation was being applied: fear and, presumably, a not inconsiderable dose of lust. That Mary Lou sure cut a slender figure in those jeans. But Andrew questioned her judgment on picking stilettos for today in an old crumbling ruin of a factory or whatever it once was.

  “AND WHAT ABOUT security guards, cameras, access, the whole thing?”

  “I was coming to that, Brian. We know a lot about the interior of the bank’s first floor but we are still working on the basement where the safe is.”

  Frank half glanced at Mary Lou, who stood by his left side, and placed his hand on her ass and squeezed and stroked it with his thumb, all the while talking to Brian and pointing at the map of Lansdowne town center drawn on the dirt of the floor. He felt warm inside standing next to her and touching her. Not warm near his dick like when he felt horny but warm in his stomach from an emotion.

  “Who’s the mark?”

  “Some assistant manager that Mary Lou’s got under her thumb and we’re gently teasing the information out of him. If there’s anything in particular you want to find out, let Mary Lou know.”

  “I bet that’s not the only thing she has under her,” muttered Pete and Frank stared daggers at him, while the other men smiled and hid sniggers behind coughs. Frank could feel Mary Lou’s butt tense in his hand and her face had gone red with embarrassment.

  “Fuck you, Pete. Let’s focus on the job at hand and no more smart ass remarks, fella.”

  Pete’s eyes gazed down behind his shades and the group came to order when Frank Senior quietly intoned a second later: “Back to business, gentlemen.”

  There would be one old guard, called Joe, who lets the staff in through the front door before the bank opens and then usually stands between the door and the Stars and Stripes on the left. He packed a piece, but they’
d have no argument from him because he was pure showcase. The man was seventy if he was a day and wanted to spend his time with his grandkids. No way was he going to risk his life for someone else’s bag of money.

  There were two tellers, the assistant manager and a deputy manager. They were all trained to cooperate with robbers because the money was insured and the bank didn’t want to get sued by the next of kin. So they wouldn’t be a problem. No, it was the civilians you had to watch. You never knew when one was going to put their panties over their stockings and act like a hero. If one of those types was in the room, there’d be blood.

  11

  FINALLY FRANK STOPPED going on about the vault and the civilians and started to talk about the getaway. Pete’s ears pricked up.

  “So Pete’ll meet us by the rear entrance, down the alley. Okay.”

  “Sure thing, boss.”

  “And we’ll use that car with the four us to take the loot out of town.”

  “Gonna by notes only or coins too?”

  “We’re not planning on coins so the load shouldn’t be too heavy, but there are safe deposit boxes in the basement and if we have time, we will lift them too. There’s maybe fifty of them but I’d rather take bearer bonds and cash than grand mom’s jewellery.”

  “Sounds like a plan to me. The more paper, the faster we get out of there.”

  “I know. I know.”

  Frank explained Mary Lou would be in a second car, nothing fancy, as she’d be the one to set the C4 off. The idea was to make some loud bangs by the junction outside the bank and cause a bit of chaos and confusion by felling a couple of telegraph poles. If the explosive was placed on the correct side of the pole there was a good chance when it landed, it would fall on the road. This would stop most law enforcement in their tracks and would mean there’d only be one way out from the bank. And Pete would need to take that fast.