The Venetian and the Rum Runner - L.A. Witt Page 0,84
call the police.” He inclined his head and held out his hand. “Or you can pay us whatever it’s worth to you for us not to call them.”
Danny swallowed. He glanced at his friends, then looked at the guards again. “Three dollars.”
“Each,” the man countered without hesitation.
Danny pressed his lips together as he eyed the pair of security guards. Carmine had damn well better compensate him for this. “Fine. Three each. Then you leave us to it, and no cops.”
The man smiled. “That’s very reasonable of you.” His expression darkened slightly, and he beckoned. “Hand it over.”
“Not so fast.” Danny shook his head. “You get paid when we get out and ain’t seen no cops.”
The security guard glowered. “How do we know you won’t run off with our money?”
“How do I know you won’t take my money and call the cops?”
They glared at each other.
Beside Danny, Francis huffed impatiently. “Give him three now, and we’ll give him the rest when we’re on our way.” He paused, then added, “And we’ll give them each another two if they help us move all this.”
The security guards exchanged glances, and for a moment, Danny was sure his friend’s brazenness was about to get them shot or arrested. But then the men shrugged and nodded.
“Fine,” the first said. “Three dollars now. Then the rest, plus two each, after we help you.”
Danny was stunned by how easily they’d gone from getting busted to getting two pairs of hands to help them move loot, but he focused enough to pull some cash from his pocket and count out what he needed. He paid the guards, showed them that he had the rest to pay them afterward, and then they all got to work.
In no time, Danny’s crew and the security guards had relieved the warehouse of a veritable mountain of merchandise, which the rest of the crew began loading onto the pair of trucks they’d stolen for the occasion. It took two trips with each truck to get it back to Manhattan, and it was nearly daybreak by the time the last box was loaded.
When they were satisfied they’d taken enough, Danny paid the guards.
And…that was it. They’d gone in, been caught red-handed, bribed the guards to help them and not turn them in, and now they were done, multiple truckloads of merchandise richer than they’d been last night. Plus they each had a cool half-century coming their way after Carmine paid them.
“That was easier than it should’ve been,” Danny said to Bernard as they climbed into a truck.
“Aye, it was.”
Danny glanced back at the warehouse. Something wasn’t right, but he couldn’t begin to figure out what it was. Hopefully Carmine could—and would—enlighten him.
“We didn’t even get to bust open those chains.” Bernard hmphed. “I blistered my damn fingers filing those bloody things down.” Shaking his head, he muttered, “What a waste.”
Danny laughed, clapping his friend’s shoulder. Trust Bernard to find something to complain about after such an easy victory.
Danny and his crew spent the morning carefully cataloguing everything they’d stolen. It had been an impressive haul, that was for sure. Enough they’d had to divide it between their respective homes and even hide a few things in the toolsheds behind Paddy and Bernard’s tenements.
That afternoon, they each came by Danny’s apartment with lists, and Danny marveled at what they had—with the help of the warehouse security—lifted without incident:
Three bolts of fine cloth that had probably been destined for suit shops. Several cases of expensive cigars. Gallons of rum. More molasses than any of them had ever seen in their lives. Nuts none of them had ever tasted before (but agreed were delicious after they’d all shared a box). Boxes of colorful thread and rolls of soft leather that Bernard thought was meant for shoes.
Even if they weren’t getting paid handsomely by Carmine, their score would fetch them plenty of money once they started selling it.
But Danny was still nervous about the whole thing. It had been entirely too easy.
When he went to see Carmine and get paid, Carmine briefly looked over the list of stolen items, then had him recount the night in minute detail. How they broke in. What they saw. How they got out. It was so strange, Carmine’s obsession with everything they’d done rather than what they stole. He’d asked for the list, and Danny had given it to him, but Carmine didn’t seem all that interested.
“And did you have any trouble?” Carmine asked. “With guards?”