Progress so far is like a deck of cards

Well, I’ve got a lot of characters. In a lot of scenes. Like being dealt a hand of cards. And somehow you have to make a winning hand out of it. And you’re not sure what game you’re playing.

The Gang

14. The Gang

Mustafa wrote his name in the patch of fog he had created on the motel window with his breath. Large snow flakes drifted lazily passed the glass.

“What are you doing?” Jimmy Higgs barked.

Mustafa turned back to the room. Jimmy Higgs sat on the edge of a desk. Behind him on the wall was a large piece of paper. On it there was a crudely drawn map. Guy Lombardo leaned against the door of the motel, his arms crossed. On the bed lay Montgomery. Her long blonde hair fell loosely across her bathrobe. She was smoking a cigarette.

“Nothing, Mr. Higgs.”

“We’re trying to be productive here, lad. Try and pay attention.”

“I’m going to have a kid.” Mustafa almost giggled as he awaited the expected cavalcade of congratulations. The room was silent. Montgomery glanced indifferently at Mustafa, smoke slipping out of her nostrils. Guy scratched his nose.

“We all have our problems,” Jimmy Higgs responded. “But we have other fish to fry. Sit down.”

Mustafa took a seat by the window. Montgomery’s legs were only a few feet away. He tried not to look up her bathrobe. Outside the snow kept falling.

Jimmy took a sharpened pencil out of his blazer jacket and pointed to the map.

“This is the bank. Down here we have the drug store. Beside the bank is the restaurant. Twenty years ago that restaurant was half the size it is today. There used to be a paint store in between the restaurant and the bank. I was on the crew that tore the paint shop apart and renovated the restaurant.”

Guy popped a stick of gum in his mouth. “I didn’t know that you were in construction, Mr. Higgs.”

“You want to spit that out, Guy. It’s distracting.”

Guy took the gum out of his mouth and stuck it behind his ear.

“I was never in construction,” Jimmy continued. “Not as a profession. But when I hear about a restoration of a bank or it’s neighbor, I take special notice. It’s called R and D., research and development. There are a dozen places I’ve worked on over the years. You file away the information for future consideration. The future is now for this bank. When we were restoring the basement of the paint shop we found a large safe, about the size of a small room. The paint shop kept its flammable supplies in it. This safe had three sides of metal. The back wall was brick. That wall backed onto the bank. We tried to take the safe apart but it was too much work. Or at least that’s what we told the owner of the restaurant. In fact, the opposite was true. The owner of the restaurant decided to keep the safe and use it as a wine cellar.”

“Sir?” Mustafa put up his hand. “I thought we were breaking into a bank. How much money could there be in a wine cellar?” Mustafa laughed at his insight. The rest of the room looked at him. No one else was laughing.

“How’d you do in high school, Ms. Demeanor?” Jimmy asked.

Mustafa looked around the room, puzzled. He looked back at Jimmy.

“It’s Mustafa. I did okay. A little trouble with algebra.”

“Problem solving?”

“Factoring.” Mustafa grinned sheepishly.

Montgomery sat up on the side of the bed. Out of the side of his eye, Mustafa caught a glimpse up Montgomery’s bathrobe. She isn’t wearing anything underneath.

Montgomery butted her cigarette out in a nearby ashtray. “I think it’s an interesting question.”

Jimmy looked at Montgomery. “You on Ms. Demeanor’s side now?”

“It’s Mustafa,” Mustafa muttered. He tried to smile. Nobody talks to me like this!

“It’s still an interesting question,” Montgomery insisted. “And I think we could all do without the sarcasm.”

The room was dead silent. Jimmy glared at Montgomery for a moment then smiled.

“Point taken. I apologize Mr. Mustafa. As far as your question is concerned Miss Montgomery, I was getting to it. When we were trying to dismantle the safe we noticed that the mortar holding the bricks together on the back wall was crumbling. I took a long steel rod and poked a hole in the wall. It went through that mortar like a hot knife through butter.”

“And you set off the alarms in the bank,” Montgomery added.

Jimmy smiled. “Nope. Not a peep.”

Once again the room was silent. Mustafa looked at Guy. He didn’t understand the significance of the silence.

“One good shove and I could have been in the bank. After I discovered this, we built the wine rack along that wall so that no one else would discover our secret. And I haven’t heard another word about that bank being broken into.”

Montgomery stood up and walked across the room. She opened the drawer of a dresser and took out a pair of underwear. All eyes were on her. Montgomery turned her back to the room and slipped her panties on. Mustafa swallowed deeply.

“So the problem now is how we break into the restaurant,” Guy said breaking the silence.

Jimmy was about to speak when he was interrupted by Montgomery. She dropped her housecoat and pulled on a sweater. Mustafa smiled. He looked at Guy. Guy’s mouth was open. Montgomery kicked the housecoat to one side and pulled a pair of jeans out of a drawer.

“You keep referring to we this and we that. You had a partner?” Montgomery pulled on her jeans.

Jimmy was staring at Montgomery. Montgomery waited for an answer.

“Yes,” he finally replied.

Montgomery stepped back over to the bedside table and grabbed a package of cigarettes. She lit one up. “What happened to your partner?”

“That’s irrelevant, Miss Montgomery.”

Montgomery shook her hair behind her and took a seat again on the bed. “Indulge us.”

Jimmy took a deep breath. Mustafa and Guy awaited his response. “His name was Victor Genova.”

“Was?” Montgomery asked.

“Mr. Genova is no longer with us. He had an accident.”

Once again the room was dead silent.

Oh shit! Mustafa thought.

The silence was broken by Montgomery.

“I could pick the lock on the front door of the restaurant.” A cloud of smoke billowed out of her open mouth.

“Could I bum one of those off you?” Mustafa asked.

Montgomery looked at Mustafa. “No.”

“The problem is the drugstore, folks. It’s open twenty-four hours. People standing in front of a restaurant in the middle of the night may be a little conspicuous. And, Miss Montgomery, you may set off the alarm.”

“I could hide in the washroom until they close up,” Guy suggested.

Jimmy smiled. “And what are the rest of us supposed to do? Stand around in front of the restaurant and pretend to be partying? No. We’re going through the roof. In and out through the roof of the restaurant. I’ve done some homework and we should be able to torch our way through. The roof has a tin floor. We’ll cut through a couple nights before, then patch it up enough to use later. You’ve used a torch before, haven’t you?”

Guy looked at Jimmy and nodded. “A little.”

“A little will have to do, lad. We’re going to need some tools when we get in there. A couple of picks. Some shovels. A generator. Maybe a little dynamite. A ladder.” Jimmy looked around the room. “Any questions?”

“I thought you could shove the wall in,” Mustafa said.

“We don’t know what’s on the other side of the wall,” Guy said. “It’s a fall back plan, right Mr. Higgs?”

Jimmy nodded.

“And maybe we have to blow up the safe, right Mr. Higgs?” Mustafa added.

Jimmy turned on Mustafa. “We aren’t blowing up any safes! It’s unprofessional. Besides, you want half of the Six Points area down on our ass. Once we get to the safe, Montgomery takes over. Monday is a holiday. No one will notice a thing until Tuesday morning. By that time we’ll be thousands of miles away.”

So what’s the dynamite for? Mustafa cleared his throat. “Who’s going to carry all this shit onto the restaurant roof and then down into the restaurant?”

“That’s your job, Mr. Mustafa,” Jimmy said then turned back to the rest of the room. “When the job is finished we’ll come back here to the motel and split the take. As a specialist, Montgomery gets five thousand off the top and then twenty five percent. As the driver, Guy gets fifteen percent. I get fifty percent. Does anyone have a problem with that?”

Everyone nodded assent.

“How much do I get?” Mustafa asked.

“Ten percent,” Guy responded.

“Jesus! Is that all? Why do I only get ten percent?”

Jimmy glared at Mustafa. “Because I said so.”

Mustafa lowered his head.

“How much do you figure is in the bank, Mr. Higgs?” Guy asked.

“Conservatively speaking, I think we can count on somewhere in the neighborhood of a million dollars.”

“That much?”

“Maybe a little more, lad.”

Mustafa turned to Guy.

“How much do I get then?” he asked quietly.

“A hundred g’s,” Guy said.

“A hundred thousand dollars!”

“Maybe a little more,” Jimmy added.

Montgomery stepped back across the room and looked out into the night.

“You fellows are going to have to return to your own room now,” she said. “I’ve got a date.”

“That was you in here last night?” Guy asked.

Montgomery smiled.

“The bank manager?” Jimmy asked.

“Phil likes to talk.” Montgomery ground out her cigarette against the glass. “Anyone know where I can get some film developed?”