“You could say that neither of the government officials in question was our president.”

“It was not. There, does that make you feel better?”

“Much, thank you.”

Their lunch arrived, and they ate it with gusto, conversing on other subjects.

Frank Riggs, né Russo, played a game with a television newscaster: he repeated every sentence spoken by the man and imitated his pronunciation and intonation. He had been doing this for a couple of days, and given Frank’s naturally imitative ear, he had managed to make himself sound more like an accentless American from some midwestern or western state, instead of a New York thug.

His new “law” partner recognized this. “I’m very impressed with the change in your speech, Frank,” he said.

“Thank you. I’m trying to blend in.”

“I like the new suits and shirts, too. Have you found a tailor?”

“Just a men’s store whose clothes fit me well.”

“The mustache is coming along nicely, too.”

“It still itches, but I’m getting used to it. By the way, thank you for the law license and legal education and the office space.”

“I don’t expect anything to come up, but it always helps to have a background, if you need it.”

“Agreed.”

“Frank, I’ve had a proposal from a guy who was recommended to me for robbing a bank in a small town inland from here. It sounds good: no major law enforcement to deal with, the usual alarm systems, and an attractive amount of cash.”

“From what source?”

“A number of agricultural enterprises within a reasonable radius of the place pay their employees on Friday, and a great many of them come into the bank in the afternoon to cash their checks, so the bank stocks up to meet their demands.”

“Sounds reasonable. What’s their modus operandi?”

“In and out quick, two getaway vehicles.”

“I have some rules about banks,” Frank said. “Would you like to hear them?”

“By all means.”

“To begin with, don’t assume because the bank is in a small town that they don’t have much in the way of security. It’s best to assume they have every modern technology and to be prepared for it.”

“Prepared how?”

“Employ masks, gloves, and identical clothing—something like the jumpsuits worn by workers, maybe carpet cleaners. Wear hats of some sort. On entering the premises, disarm the uniformed guards and threaten people with short shotguns—they’re more frightening than pistols.”

“And more effective.”

“Tell them to fire no rounds, if at all possible, though a single shot to the ceiling will concentrate the minds of those being robbed, and tell them, above all else, don’t actually shoot anybody. Money is just money, but a bleeding teller is a goad to law enforcement and has legs in TV news. Don’t bother with the tellers, and don’t worry about alarms—somebody will set one off, regardless. Go straight to the vault and stuff trash bags full of cash. Don’t get greedy, leave the vault after no more than one minute. They should be in and out of the place in ninety seconds, and somebody should call the time. They should drive at the speed limit and change vehicles twice and avoid stolen cars and vans, if possible. I like places that rent old vehicles. Returning them is a good time to change cars. Then meet somewhere after an hour, divide the money, go home, and don’t call each other. Afterwards, don’t spend anything for three months or so, just live a normal life. Don’t pay bills in the neighborhood with cash—use credit cards or checks to attract less notice. That’s a rough outline. They should, of course, plan everything in detail. The hardest part is not calling attention to themselves after the robbery by throwing money around. How much seed money do they want from you?”

“Fifty thousand.”

“Too much. Offer them twenty-five in return for a third of the take, and have a representative there when they divide the money. That’s about it, except for details peculiar to the location, like distance from the police station and state police.”

“Only a third?”

“It’s always a bad idea to get greedy. If there’s a lot of cash in the bank, a third of the take will recompense you nicely.”

“You want into this one?”

“I’m good for half the twenty-five, if you like their boss.”

“I think he’s okay, but I’d like you to meet him.”

“Okay, when?”

“He’s in my office now.”

Frank stood up. “Okay, let’s go.” He followed Jimmy down the hall and into the corner office. A man sat in a chair next to the desk, facing the windows.

“I’d like you to meet my partner,” Jimmy said.

The man turned and rose.

Frank sagged a little. “Hello, Charlie,” he said.

Charlie’s face lit up. “Hi, Frank, fancy meeting you here.”

“I’m sorry I lied to you about my plans, but you’ll have to forget about this when you leave here,” Frank replied.

“I got it,” Charlie said. “I don’t want to know your new last name.”

“How do the two of you happen to be acquainted?” Jimmy asked.

“We did some things together in New York. Charlie’s a good man, Jimmy. Let me take him down to my office and go over the details with him.”

“Okay, go do that, and come see me when you’re done.”

Frank led Charlie down the hall, sat him down in his office, and closed the door. “How’d you find me?” he asked.

“I didn’t,” Charlie replied. “I found your partner. About you, I had no idea.”

Frank sat down and took a legal pad from a drawer and shoved it across the desk. “All right, draw the bank for me.”

Charlie did so and handed the pad back.

“When did you last see it?”

“Yesterday. I went in and got change for a hundred.”

“And it’s as simple as this?”

“It is.”

Frank ran through his rules, though he didn’t really feel it was necessary.

“Got it.”

“Is there a back way out?”

“Yep, and an alley, too.”

“What are you using for vehicles?”

“One old van will do it—there’s just three of us and a driver. I’ll go into the vault alone with the manager; the other two will stand guard until we’re ready to leave the premises.”

“Go to a design shop and get business names made for the van, then peel them off when you’re done. Carpet cleaning is good.”

“Good idea.”

“Any questions, Charlie?”

“Nope.”

“Where are you going to divide the money?”

Charlie wrote down an address. “It’s a restaurant that went bust. One of my guys has a key to the back door.”

“I’ll be there for the divvy. Any arguments, my decision is final—make sure your guys understand that.”

“Done.”

“Wait here, and I’ll get your money.”

“Will do.”

Charlie went back to Jimmy’s office. “We’re done. It looks good.”

“You’re sure about Charlie?”

“All he needs is instructions, and he has those.”

Jimmy handed him a thick envelope. “Here’s twelve-five.”

“Right.” Frank went back to his office, opened his safe, counted out the other half, and handed it to Charlie, along with a couple of throwaway cell phones.

“Call me when you’re out of the bank, then when you’re on your way to the location. And Charlie . . .”

“Yeah, Frank?”

“Don’t fuck it up.”