There was something to Steve’s idea about the crowd at Barton’s being part of the problem, but the fact of the matter was that Tony was pretty much the ringleader whenever they would go out on a petty crime spree. If they knew someone was going to be away for the night, then a few of them would figure out how to break a window, sneak in, and steal anything of value. The problem was that most items were too big to haul away, and even if they were able to snatch a watch or a necklace or some jewelry worth a few hundred dollars, they would only get a fraction of the value. So, even with a little job here and there, Tony and Danny were broke most of the time.

Despite being out of pocket, when one of the guys would suggest a B&E at a house they knew would be vacant, Tony would usually find a reason to nix the idea. They’d had too many close calls over these stupid little hauls. He had the good sense to realize their luck would run out eventually. He knew the answer was cash. Cold hard cash. But how to get that? A bank job was too risky. Gas stations and convenience stores had cash, but that was almost like robbing a place in broad daylight, and you never knew if the guy behind the counter had a gun or some other weapon. They were bound to get busted or worse.

Then one day their luck started to turn for the better.

Tony and Danny were friendly with this tall, skinny, frizzy-haired kid named Jimmy Bagneski, who drove a truck for a local delivery service. He liked to call himself “the Bagman,” because he thought it gave him a certain criminal cache, but to most folks he was usually just “Bags.” Bags was one of the Turner groupies who attended Geauga High back in the glory days, and he still thought Tony and Danny might one day find great fame. Tony thought Bags was an idiot, but he put up with him because he always picked up the tab—and he enjoyed reliving the days when he was the big man on campus.

One night he showed up at Barton’s as excited as a dog at dinnertime, convinced he had found just the ticket they were looking for.

“You know that antique shop over in Novelty, the one that sells all that crap like old clocks, paintings, tables, and stuff?” Bags asked smugly. He didn’t know it, but he had just asked a rhetorical question.

“Yeah, what about it?” Danny said. “What would we do with that stuff even if we could get that junk out of there?”