Three men sat in their hideout discussing their latest operation. All around twenty, they expected a pretty good payoff for the risk that they were about to run.

“At this time of morning the bank Italia should be on the quiet side. Once we enter a simple threat will deal with the cashiers.”

The others nodded.

“We get the cash bags and return here,” their boss said. “Try to remember no shooting.”

“How long until we get rid of it?”

The boss smiled.

“Tomorrow at noon. Then we get a cut in about a month.”

“A month?”

“It’s guaranteed. Now, are we all ready?”

His gang nodded.

“Let’s go do it then. Our boss shall be pleased.”

As their armoured van drew out, across the ancient city, detective Salini and his sergeant stood before the coliseum.

“You know sergeant, when I was a kid I wanted to fight in there.”

He paused at the pleasant thought.

“As I got older though and learned of what really went on, I realised that I wouldn’t last five minutes.”

“So you became a copper instead.”

“I suppose so.”

Two armoured actors strolled past as the tourists entered the crumbling arena.

The armoured vehicle approached their target at a normal speed. The gang had now dressed in standard security uniform and calmly handled the firearms.

Their boss sat next to the driver.

“Now remember chaps. Straight in and out. No dilly-dallying.”

“We are here boss.”

The van drew up and the two accomplices climbed from the rear. Once they were together, they walked inside as calm as cucumbers.

They smiled at the cashier as a little old lady entered with her shopping trolley.

“You're a day early.”

“Blame it on our manager miss. We need the manager miss.”

She pressed a buzzer and the spectacled gent quickly entered.

“Security sir,” the cashier said.

The manager looked them up and down before saying, “Follow me.”

He led them to the rear and opened the main safe for them.

“Not a lot today.”

“Oh that’s okay. We could have done with a smaller van.”

As the bags were gently removed, the manager spotted something unusual.

“Where is your radios?”

The leader smiled before coshing him. Pulling his weapon free he said, “Damn fool manager. We have enough. Come on.”

As they dashed into the main room a guard shouted, “Hey you, stop!”

One of the gang turned and fired twice, taking the guard down. As they dashed outside, a lone officer was strolling his beat. He did not have time to grab his weapon before he too hit the hard pavement.

The armoured vehicle shot off at high speed as the alarm finally went off.

“What did you shoot them for?” the leader demanded.

“It was them or us mate.”

The leader shook his head.

“The damn boss ain’t going to like this mess.”

The squad car was slowly making its way back to the station when the radio crackled. As the sergeant took the message, he groaned.

“We had better head to the bank sir. Some crooks shot their way out.”

The detective activated the siren as they sped towards the crime scene.

When they arrived, other officers joined them as Salini took in the scene.

“What a mess. Are these the only two casualties?”

“Not quite sir,” the cashier replied. “Our manager may need stitches.”

“I need to see him now,” the detective demanded.

The manager was sitting inside his office, cradling a bleeding head.

“Nice of you to come.”

“How many are we dealing with?” the sergeant asked.

“Three sir. All wearing security uniforms too. If only I’d kept my mouth shut.”

“You became suspicious?”

The injured man nodded.

“They had no radios you see.”

“How much did they get?” the sergeant asked.

“Around twenty grand. A lucky break for us.”

“You had better get that seen to,” the detective said.

When they returned to the main building, the ambulance teams had arrived to remove the dead, and treat the shocked survivors.

An officer pointed to an old lady

“She saw the van sir.”

“Excuse me mam. What kind of van did it look like?”

She smiled at the detective and replied, “A large armoured one sir.
You know the type. The guys who handle cash deliveries.”

“I know what you mean,” the sergeant said. “Which way did they go?”

“Towards the outer ring road sir.”

The detective thought things over.

“We’ll check the tapes eh?”

As they viewed the footage, the officers grimaced.

“They are bloody ruthless.”

“We’ll take photos of them and hand them out sergeant. Do you have any snouts?”

His officer smiled.

“You want a word?”

“I certainly do. This raid was well planned and someone might know
about it.”

As they drew up outside a lock up, the sergeant pointed.

“That’s his pad sir. Goes by the name of Rico.

The door was open and when they entered, they noted a short, balding individual checking some crates.

“Can we have a word Rico?”

He turned and smiled at the familiar face.

“Giovani, long time no see. Got yourself a new boss?”

The detective showed his warrant card.

“Salini eh? A good old Italian name. What can I do for you?”

“There was a heist at the bank this morning,” Salini said. “Have you heard anything?”

Rico shook his head.

“Not a whisper.”

“Can you try and find out?” the detective asked.

Rico grinned.

“There is only one man who could carry that through.”

“Well?” the sergeant asked.

“Don Juin.”

The sergeant thought this over.

“It had to be.”

“You know him Giovani?”

“Yes sir. He’s the top city dog. He even has the mayor in his pocket.”

“Does he indeed? I don’t suppose you know where to find him?”

Rico interrupted.

“He runs a strip joint on Berto Street. Posh place too. I really do wish you luck.”

“Why is that the detective asked.

“He’s untouchable you see. Never gets his hands dirty.”

The detective nodded.

“Come on sergeant. Let’s go and see the dog shall we?”

Berto Street had more than one strip joint. The whole street was packed with them. When Salini saw them, he was genuinely shocked.

“I sometimes wonder what blokes use these.”

“The lonely and desperate sir. Our man owns them all.”

When they reached the third establishment, the squad car stopped.
Outside a sleazy but well kept entrance, two bouncers watched them carefully.

“Bodyguards?”

“Yes sir. They won’t stop us though.”

“Morning you two,” the sergeant said. “We need a word with the boss.”

The door was opened and they entered a cracking interior. The floor was covered in a lush red carpet and at the centre, a naked pole dancer practiced.

Don Juin stood at the empty bar watching her with interest.

“Hello sergeant,” he said pleasantly. “Who’s the mug?”

“Detective Salini,” the officer said.

“Oh I see. Want a drink?”

“No thanks sir. This is not a social call.”

“Please yourself then. What can I do for you?”

“We are investigating the bank job,” Salini replied. “Two people
were gunned down in cold blood.”

“The boss looked worried?”

“Gunned down you say?”

“They will get twenty years to life,” Salini said coldly. “So will
anyone withholding information. I’ll see to that.”

The boss poured himself a large brandy and downed it in one.

“The sergeant knows that my boys don’t carry shooters. I keep a clean house.”

The sergeant laughed.

“You have a finger in every pie Don Juin. So this job was done with at least your consent.”

“I could arrest you for that at least,” the detective said.

“Don’t you know that I’m protected? Tell him sergeant.”

“Sadly sir this is true. My former boss tried far too many times.

That’s why he was transferred to Milan.”

“To Milan eh,” the boss said with a happy smile. “I hear that it’s lovely there.”

“Less of the jokes,” the detective warned.

“So who did it?” the sergeant pressed.

“I heard about it around a week ago. Couple of crazy youngsters in town. They had a madcap scheme.”

“So you warned them off.”

“That’s right sergeant. Seems my friendly advice was ignored.”

“So where are they?” the detective demanded.

“Last I heard they were hiding out at the Via Metro.”

“Thanks.”

“Anytime sergeant. I’m only here to help.”

As they left, the boss made a call.

“Is he genuine?” Salini asked as the squad car trundled toward the hideout.

“As genuine as muck sir. They’ll be there though. That piece about his blokes being unarmed is true as well. He’s into gambling, girls, and protection rackets. Not armed robbery.”

The car sped on as others reached there first.

The young and foolish gang sat within their pad, staring at the stolen loot.

“Don is going to love this cash.”

The leader shook his head.

“You know the rules. No shooters.”

“So why carry them? You told us to?”

The leader grimaced.

“You were only to fire at the ceiling. Don’t worry though. I’ll
explain things to him.”

A loud knock came from the old door.

“Who is it?” the leader asked.

“Creo mate. We need a word.”

“Hold on a second.”

The leader padded over calmly and opened the door. A sudden burst of
automatic fire took him down as his friends tried to run.

The hit man stood tall and well built. As they cowered at the far wall he said, “No hard feelings eh?”


“Here we are sir.”

The officers stepped outside and saw the open garage door to the right of the run down building.

“Something’s wrong,” the detective hissed. “That’s far too obvious.”

He drew his weapon and knocked at the door.

“Police!”

When there was no answer, they burst inside and stopped.

“They were silenced,” the shocked officer muttered.

They ignored the bodies and walked over to the stolen cash.

“It looks all there sir.”

“Don Juin’s men?”

The sergeant nodded.

“They broke the rules sir. Rough justice eh?”

“I want this place dusted and the bullets examined.”

“I know how you feel sir but this was a professional hit. You won’t find any prints.”

The detective hissed at him.

“Murder is murder sergeant. We’ll match the bullets to the weapon if need be.”

He was amazed when Giovani shook his head again.

“You’ll find the bullets are standard army issue. We can’t arrest the whole army sir.”

“So nothing will tie this boss to the killings?”

“You got in one sir.”

The detective had a sudden gut wrenching feeling.

“How many coppers has he bought?”

“None that I’m aware of sir. He’s not stupid you see.”

The detective looked grim as the sergeant called it in.

“I don’t like dead ends mate!”

The sergeant shook his head sadly.

“You have no choice I’m afraid.”