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.”