“I’d say it’d make it a fabulous night,” Tony said. “I’ve never made this kind of money.”
“All right!” Angelo said, studying a map. “I know where both of these houses are.
Expensive part of town.” He placed the map and the list down on the center console, put the car in gear, and drove off.
It took less than half an hour for Angelo to cruise past the first house. It was a large white mansion set far back from the street. Angelo guessed the house sat on at least two acres. Several leafless elms lined a long, curving driveway.
“Which one this time?” Tony asked as he gazed up at the big house.
“The man,” Angelo said. He was trying to decide where to leave the car. In such a ritzy part of town there weren’t many vehicles parked on the street. In the end, he decided to drive right up the driveway since it looped behind the house. He could park so that the car wasn’t visible from the street. He turned his lights off as he came up the drive, hoping the darkened car wouldn’t attract any attention.
“Now remember,” Tony said as they prepared to move in. “This time it’s my turn.”
Angelo looked to the heavens as if to say, “Why me, God?” Then he nodded and the two went to the house.
The white mansion proved more difficult than the more modest stone house. The white mansion had several overlapping alarm systems that took Angelo some time to figure out as well as neutralize. It was a half hour before they broke out a whole sash in a window into a laundry room.
Angelo went in first to make sure there were no infrared detectors or lasers. When he determined the coast was clear, Tony climbed over the windowsill.
They stayed together and moved slowly through the kitchen, where they could hear a TV playing in a nearby room.
As carefully as possible they moved toward the sound. It was coming from a room off the front hall. Angelo went first and peered around the corner.
The room was a den with a wet bar built into one wall, a giant rear-projection TV in another. In front of the TV was a chintz-upholstered chesterfield. Asleep in the center of the couch was an enormously overweight man, dressed in a blue bathrobe. His stubby, surprisingly skinny legs stuck out from beneath the corpulent mass of his abdomen and were propped up on a hassock. On his feet were leather slippers.
Angelo pulled back to talk with Tony. “He’s asleep and alone. We’ll have to assume the wife, if there is one, is upstairs.”
“What are we going to do?” Tony questioned.
“You wanted to whack him,” Angelo said. “So go in and do it. Just do it right. Then we’ll check on the woman.”
Tony smiled and stepped beyond Angelo. His gun with the silencer in place was in his right hand.
Rounding the corner, Tony boldly strode into the den. He went directly up to the man on the couch. Pointing the gun at the man’s temple just above the ear, he purposefully bumped the man’s thigh with his leg.
The man sputtered as his heavily lidded eyes struggled up. “Gloria, dear?” he managed.
“No, honey, it’s me—Tony.”
The hissing thump knocked the man over onto his right side on the couch. Tony leaned over and placed the muzzle of his silencer at the base of the skull and fired again. The man didn’t move.
Tony straightened up and looked back at Angelo. Angelo waved for him to follow him. Together they went up the stairs. On the second floor they had to search through several rooms before finding Gloria. She was fast asleep with the lights on but with black eyeshades over her eyes and earplugs in her ears.
“Looks like she thinks she’s a movie star,” Tony said. “This is going to be a snap.”
“Let’s go,” Angelo said. He gave Tony’s arm a tug.
“Aw, come on,” Tony said. “She’s like a sitting duck.”
“I’m not going to argue,” Angelo snarled. “We’re getting out of here.”
Back in the car, Tony pouted while Angelo checked the fastest route to the next house. Angelo didn’t care how long Tony brooded. At least it kept him quiet.