‘The take, the risk, and who I’m supposed to be working with.’
‘Of course. That’s to be expected. But if the take is good and the risk is low and the people are known to you, you’re interested?’
Parker nodded.
‘All right.’ Negli put the long cigar in his mouth and talked around it. ‘The take,’ he said, ‘is between a hundred and a hundred fifty G. The risk is practically nil. The people, so far, are Dan Kifka and Arnie Feccio and me.’
‘So far,’ Parker echoed. ‘How many you figure all told?’
‘The details aren’t all worked out yet. We figure six or seven.’
‘That’s a big string.’
Negli shrugged. ‘We want risk low, we got to have enough men.’
That’s fifteen to twenty G a man, depending on how much and how many.’
‘Sure. Figure fifteen minimum.’
‘What’s the job?’
‘Gate receipts. College football gate receipts.’
Parker frowned. ‘How do you figure low risk?’
‘It all depends on the plan. We’ve already got a way in, and we ought to be able to make some kind of advantage out of the traffic jam after the game. There’s always a traffic jam after a football game.’
‘All you’ve got,’ Parker said, ‘is a way in and an itch.’
‘You ever hear a job start with more?’
‘It better have more before it’s worked.’
‘So come in and see Dan; you know where he lives. He’ll give you everything we got.’
‘Anybody asking ace shares?’
‘No. Equal divvy, share and share alike.’
Parker considered, and then nodded. ‘I’ll come in and talk,’ he said. ‘I don’t promise any more than that.’
‘Of course not.’ Negli got to his feet, the cigar at a jaunty angle in the corner of his mouth. ‘You’ll like this operation,’ he said. ‘It’s neat and clean. And profitable.’
They left the room, and out in the office Madge said, ‘Done so soon? Slick around, we’ll talk, it’s a slow night.’
‘Got to be going, Madge,’ Negli said. ‘Wish I could stay, but that’s how it is.’ To Parker he said, ‘Tomorrow night, nine o’clock.’
‘I’ll be there.’
Madge started talking again, urging them to stay and that. Parker assumed she was talking to Negli instead of him, and went straight back to his room. He switched the television on without the sound, left the room lights off, and lay on the bed to watch and think.
Sometimes there was an advantage in doing a job in the middle of a crowd, and if Negli and Kifka actually did have a way into this stadium, there was no reason why they couldn’t figure a way out again. It all depended on the details.
The next night, at nine, he was in Kifka’s apartment. There was no cheerleader there that time. Instead, there was Little Bob Negli and Arnie Feccio. Feccio was a florid moustachioed type with a beer-barrel torso and oily black hair. He looked more Greek than Italian, and whichever nationality he looked he had to be a restaurant owner. He’d tried to substantiate his looks a few times, but his restaurants always went broke and he always had to go back to his regular profession to get himself out of debt.
The four of them sat around a table in Kifka’s living room, and Kifka, with the help of maps and diagrams, told Parker what they had:
‘It’s Monequois Stadium, just outside town on Western Avenue. Monequois’s one of them hoity-toity Ivy League colleges, nothing but money, and this is their new stadium. Saturday, the sixteenth of November, is their big game against Plainfield, the big deal for the whole-season. And the nice thing, it’s what they call inter-conference - it don’t count in their regular season, they play in different conferences.’
Parker said, ‘What makes that nice?’
‘The gate receipts are different,’ Kifka told him. ‘It ain’t a regular season game, so the gate receipts go to some charity or fund or something, and season tickets don’t count. Also, no mail orders, no advance sales at all. It’s a big deal, see what I mean? Like the World Series. The box office opens at six in the morning the day of the game, and there’s always these clowns that stay up all night to buy the first tickets.’
Little Bob Negli said, ‘You see the beauty, Parker? Except for student tickets, student passes, whatever they call them, every seat in the house is paid for cash on the barrelhead the day of the game. And all that cash has to be right there in the stadium when the game starts.’
Parker nodded. ‘So it’s a big score,’ he said. ‘If we can get at it.’
‘We can get at it.’ Kifka spread out a diagram on the table, facing so Parker could see it best. ‘This is the stadium. They got three box offices where they sell tickets, North Gate, East Gate, and South Gate. These squares here with the X’s in them. About once an hour the cash is collected and brought around to the stadium building here at the west end of the stadium. All your offices and locker rooms and everything are in this building. Now, your finance office is on the second floor, and that’s where the money’s delivered.’
Parker said, ‘How?’
