“Beautiful,” Frankie said. “I’m living in Somerville. How the hell’m I supposed to get to Holbrook in the middle of the afternoon? Never mind, for Christ sake, how the fuck I’m supposed to get home inna middle of the night. ‘Buy a car. You need a car for your job, we’ll help you get your license back.’

“With what?” Frankie said. “I haven’t got no money. What am I gonna buy a car with? Why the fuck they think I need a job, I’m living with my sister and everything. So I can keep warm? I haven’t got no money, a car. ‘Maybe you can get a ride,’ they tell me. Right. Hang around the Square every day, I find somebody that just happens to be going down to Holbrook. Just at the right time, too. Assholes.

“ ‘Move down there,’ they tell me,” Frankie said. “Same thing. I still haven’t got no money. I had money, I could move down there, I’d move some place else, I wouldn’t be bothering them in the first place. Well, they’re sorry. That’s all they got right now, that they’re pretty sure the guy that does the hiring’ll take a guy like me. I should probably go down the welfare and get enough dough, I can move out there. The guy’s just sick of talking to me. He wants his fuckin’ coffee or something. Okay, that’s the end of that. Then I see Russell. He’s going right along. He’ll probably buy a hotel or something in a couple weeks or so.”

“Not on dogs,” Amato said.

“He’s just doing that,” Frankie said. “He’s gonna use that to buy something, soon’s he gets enough. That’s what I’d like to do, I got something in mind like that myself. But first I got to get the money to buy the stuff.”

“What is it?” Amato said.

“There’s this guy I know,” Frankie said. “I see him, he naturally wants to know, how’re things going? So we have a couple pops, he’s buying, and we talk, and then he says, well, he’s gotta go over this place and I can come along if I want, maybe I’ll see something.

“So we go down this place,” Frankie said, “and it’s money. All twenties. Beautiful stuff. I had, I could’ve bought some of that stuff. I hadda thousand on me, I could’ve bought twenny thousand dollars of that stuff. And I tell you, it’s beautiful. You could move it under a floodlight.”

“Better call the guy up,” Amato said. “Tell him bye-bye. He’s gonna get grabbed. He better pass the first one inna drugstore and get himself a new toothbrush. He’s gonna need one.”

“John,” Frankie said, “wrong. This stuff is really good. The paper’s good, the ink’s good, the colors’re right. I tell you. I really looked at that stuff. The guy that made it oughta go take some of it to the government. It’s better’n the real stuff.”

“The guy’s Chubby Ryan,” Amato said.

“I dunno him,” Frankie said.

“He’s not around,” Amato said. “He’s in Atlanta. He’s doing ten fuckin’ years for that beautiful stuff. That funny? You know something? I agree with you. It’s beautiful stuff. It’s fuckin’ near perfect. But Chubby, Chubby knows a lot about printing and all of that, but, see, Chubby hasn’t got no fuckin’ brains. Just like your friend, there, Doglover. He’s all right. He just don’t know anything. Guys like him, the guys you’re always hanging around with, well, they’re the only guys’re stupider’n Chubby. Because all that stuff’s good for now, except for wiping your ass on it, it’s to sell to guys like you, don’t know any better, what’s gonna start happening to them when they go out and start moving the stuff. That’s why the price’s so low.

“You know what’s the matter with that stuff?” Amato said. “I’ll tell you. Chubby took it out to fuckin’ Wonderland, is what Chubby did. He hasn’t got no brains. He thinks, it’s good, he’s gonna move it all by himself. He’s gonna go out the dog track and move the whole run, he’s so proud of that funny. So he did. He moved about ten thousand of it, all by himself, one single fuckin’ night. Five hundred of them goddamned beautiful things, and every single one of them’s got the same goddamned number on it.

“Now of course,” Amato said, “them guys, run dog tracks, they’re all stupid, aren’t they? Betcher ass. Dumb as shit. Never occurred to them, race track’s a good place to pass funny. No, not on your life. So they never train them tellers, look out for anything like bogus. So of course, them tellers never spot anything, the night Chubby’s there, throwing twenties around like he’s apeshit and everything, absolutely not. So they only had about nine hundred security guys and some cops and the Secret Service all over the place when Chubby comes back, the eighth race. And you know what he says? They give him his rights and everything, he don’t have to say a fuckin’ word, and if he didn’t know that already, which he should’ve, he knows now. And they tell him, he’s in the shit for counterfeit. And he looks at them and he says: ‘Jesus Christ. I put them in coffee. They don’t look new.’

“You know what he did?” Amato said. “They give him his phone call and he calls Mike. And Mike says, Mike tells him, keep his mouth shut. And Mike goes down there, and, Mike knows everybody. So he goes in, and they’re all laughing at him, and he knows it, and he asks: ‘Why?’ And they show him the reports and stuff. And then Mike’s gonna go see his client. And he walks inna cell and he looks at him and Chubby says: ‘Boy, am I ever glad, see you.’ And you know what Mike says? He looks at him, and he says: ‘Chubby, this one’s for free. Plead it.’ And he goes out.

“See,” Amato said, “that’s your main problem you got today. You got guys that know how to do things but they don’t know nothing about having no fuckin’ brains, is all. They haven’t got no imagination. The only thing they can think of to do is the first thing they can see that looks good to them. Only, five hundred guys already did it before and everybody knows what’s going on, so you automatically go out there and you do it and they’re watching for you and they get you. You got to think of a different angle, something nobody else thought of for a while, or else you got to go down to Holbrook there and you go to fuckin’ work. Everything else’s a waste of time, and it’s dangerous, too, because you’re gonna do time.”

“Okay,” Frankie said, “you’re the guy with the angle. Tell me what the angle is. Only, don’t tell me, it’s the barbut, is all. I’m not going down that alley behind Billy’s Fish some night and wind up in Everett with a couple in my head. No fuckin’ way. I want dough. I’m not getting dead, gettin’ it.”

“How about,” Amato said, “well, look, let’s talk about it. Before we decide. You think Doglover there can handle a card game?”

“Well I mean,” Frankie said, “shit. Sure, anybody can. They can find one where they can go in and they haven’t got to go up against some kind of an arsenal. Those fuckin’ things, they just got less money in them’n the barbut’s got, is all. Those things’re protected. You can’t do them unless you’re so fuckin’ dumb you actually like having everybody going around tryin’ to off you.”

“There’s one you can do,” Amato said.

“There’s ten I can do, John,” Frankie said. “I know of at least ten of them I can do. But then after, somebody, everybody’s gonna have at least eight hot ginzos out looking for me.”

“Uh uh,” Amato said. “Do this one and they’ll, they won’t even look for you.”

“Why not?” Frankie said.

“Because the minute it fuckin’ happens,” Amato said, “they’re gonna know right off, who it is.”

“For some reason,” Frankie said, “that don’t make me feel better, you know, John?”

“Not us,” Amato said. “Keep in mind, I know how these guys think. They’re not gonna think, they’re never even gonna think it might be us or even somebody else. They’re pick one guy, right off, and go find him and whack him out and that’ll be it. And you and me and that little prick, if that’s the guy we get, we cut up about forty, fifty thousand dollars. No fuckin’ sweat.”

“I don’t know’s I go for setting somebody up,” Frankie said.