Chapters (64)
- Books by Stuart Woods
- Title Page
- Copyright
- CONTENTS
- Chapter 1
- Chapter 2
- Chapter 3
- Chapter 4
- Chapter 5
- Chapter 6
- Chapter 7
- Chapter 8
- Chapter 9
- Chapter 10
- Chapter 11
- Chapter 12
- Chapter 13
- Chapter 14
- Chapter 15
- Chapter 16
- Chapter 17
- Chapter 18
- Chapter 19
- Chapter 20
- Chapter 21
- Chapter 22
- Chapter 23
- Chapter 24
- Chapter 25
- Chapter 26
- Chapter 27
- Chapter 28
- Chapter 29
- Chapter 30
- Chapter 31
- Chapter 32
- Chapter 33
- Chapter 34
- Chapter 35
- Chapter 36
- Chapter 37
- Chapter 38
- Chapter 39
- Chapter 40
- Chapter 41
- Chapter 42
- Chapter 43
- Chapter 44
- Chapter 45
- Chapter 46
- Chapter 47
- Chapter 48
- Chapter 49
- Chapter 50
- Chapter 51
- Chapter 52
- Chapter 53
- Chapter 54
- Chapter 55
- Chapter 56
- Chapter 57
- Chapter 58
- Chapter 59
- AUTHOR’S NOTE
“Because I overheard Sean tell another guy right before the next-to-last poker game that he’s considering putting cameras and all the other security stuff in the store, but not until the first of the year, which means it ain’t there now. Something else I know: when I bought a couple of cases of wine there for my housewarming, it was a Friday, like tomorrow, about noon, and while I was there two guys came in carrying bank bags with the week’s receipts from the other two liquor stores Sean owns, and I heard one of ’em say that Sean comes in every Friday at two, to pick up the bags and take the receipts from all three stores to the bank.”
“So the take from all three stores is there between noon and two?”
“Every Friday,” Al confirmed.
“So I’d have to deal with guys from all three stores, plus whoever works the counter in the 17 North store?”
“Nope, you sit outside somewhere, and you’ll see the two guys come in with the bags. When they leave the store, then you hit it. You’ve only got the two countermen to deal with.”
“Oh, I see. Sounds good.”
“Vinny’s up for it, too, but we’re going to have to give him twenty-five percent of this take. I talked him down from a third.”
“Seems reasonable. He didn’t fuck up last time.”
“I told you, Vinny’s a cool kid.”
“Yeah, he is.”
“I want the two of you to get together and talk about what you’re going to wear.”
“What is this, a fashion show?”
“Nah, I just don’t want you to look like the two guys who hit the poker game. And don’t bring that little shotgun of yours—that would be a tip-off, and this time, the police will get called. Drive down to Virginia—there’s gun shops, first exit off I-95—and get yourself a couple of riot guns, like the cops use, with eighteen-inch barrels. Buy ’em at different stores and use a false ID. You’ve got that, haven’t you? I know Vinny does.”
“Yeah, and don’t worry about my shotgun, it’s at the bottom of the river, sinking in the mud. Why not just use handguns?”
“Because shotguns will scare the living shit out of the counter guys. You want to get one of you behind the counter, so you can see if they’ve got any weapons stashed back there.”
“Yeah, okay. What do you figure we’ll pull down?”
“I don’t know, but it’s a week’s take from three liquor stores, and that’s like three weeks’ take from one liquor store, so it’s gotta be substantial.”
“Sounds right.”
“Then you two switch cars and come back here for the divvy. I’ll join you after lunch.”