Essay About Bank Robbery And First National Bank Of Prairieton

Bank Robbery
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Bruno Brian ran slim fingers over his carefully styled hair. Shrugging the navy blazer more comfortably on his broad shoulders, he wondered if his businessmans disguise masked the figure of a broken-down football coach who hadnt worked in years. He took another sip of beer as he saw Shorty Lopez striding into the bar. “Where you been?” Bruno growled. “Youre late.” Shorty eased into the booth, his toes barely touching the floor. “Cool your jets, Bruno,” he snapped. “Im always at the starting gate when it counts, aint I?” Bruno hated to admit Shorty was right. “Ready for another heist?” “Thought youd never ask. Whats up?” “First National Bank of Prairieton, Iowa– population twenty thousand,” Bruno replied. “Rich farm community across the state line. We should split a hundred grand.” “Thatll set me up in Acapulco for a few months,” Shorty said. Bruno ignored him. “Heres the plan. Tonight while youre holed up in a motel, Ill meet with the bank prez. If theres inside info to be had, Ill get it.” “Youre going to dinner with the prez? Come on!” “No joke. The big gun is my aunt, Alice Brunk.” “A woman?” “Yeah. She held out for a career before it was the in thing for women.” “And youd steal from family? Why?” So when do we strike?” Shorty asked. “Early in the morning, I hope. First Ive got to find out when the vault opens. But listen. Theres a new escape route.” “I liked the old one.” “Hate to repeat an MO. Cops keep track of stuff like that,” Bruno explained. “Anyway, this plans a winner. Ive snitched a Student Driver sign from the local high school. Youll steal a car, attach the sign to it and park at the bank like some kid waiting on his drivers-Ed teacher. “Ill get the goods, slip into the passenger seat and youll drive– slowly– to our motel. Well change cars there and split. Its all safe and low-key. Cops wont be looking for a slow-moving car with a student driver sign on it.” Shorty grinned. “Bruno, my man, youre a genius.” The plan began smoothly. The two men checked into the Prairieton Motel, and when they were settled, Bruno drove to his aunts elegant home on the towns west side. Bruno felt no remorse over conning the old biddy. So she had raised him after his parents died. Big deal! She had been domineering and demanding, always nagging him to go to school, to attend youth meetings at the church, to join Boy Scouts. This heist would even up old scores. Aunt Alice greeted him at the door with a warm hug. Still wearing a gray pinstriped suit and the family pearls, she invited him in, slaying, “Its good to see you after all these years, Bruno. Where are you living?” “Omaha,” he lied. “Got an investment business there.” He hadnt done an honest days work ever since he got fired from his coaching job. “How nice.” They sat on a satin couch in her formal parlor. At a signal from the maid, Aunt Alice invited him into the dining room. No pre-dinner cocktails, but he hadnt expected them. He knew this straight-laced old dame. “Hows the banking business going?” he asked, cutting into his roast beef. “Very well, thank you. After we eat Ill show you my scrapbooks and bring you up to date on my life.” “Wonderful.” He held back a sigh, remembering those tedious tomes from his childhood. Fifty-two pages per book. Auntie clipped articles that highlighted the news events of each week, pasted them in her albums and thus, as she put it, kept track of progress. Boooooring! “I suppose you still work a full day,” Bruno said. She beamed. “Certainly. I may be seventy-five, but as bank president and chairman of the board, its my duty to be there at nine when they open the vault.” “Of course.” Nine in the morning. Thats all Bruno needed to know. He squirmed, suddenly. What if she recognized him tomorrow? But no. His disguise was foolproof. It even fooled Shorty. “Well be a bit shorthanded in the morning, however,” Aunt Alice continued. “One teller has the flu, and Ive excused another cashier to help me in the school-community fund-raising booth on Main Street. Tomorrows the kickoff day.” Bruno could not suppress his grin. What a break! Auntie would be out of the bank the whole day. Once they finished dinner, his aunt led him back to the parlor, handing him leather-bound scrapbooks. He glanced at some of the oldest ones with thinly veiled distaste. What did he care about Prairieton? Finally he stifled a yawn and spoke. “I must be going. Its