“Bobby, Barney, and me, we’ll be the ones going in,” Mickey explained. “ Dee ’s outside on the walkie-talkie. Ned, I’ve saved the really cushy job for you.”

All I had to do was zip around Palm Beach and trigger the alarms in several expensive homes. All the owners would be at some posh charity ball at the Breakers. There were pictures of the houses and a sheet with the addresses. The local police force was small, and with alarms going off all over town, they’d be like the Keystone Kops going in fifteen different directions. Mickey knew how to get into the target house and disable the alarm. There might be a housekeeper or two to worry about, but that was it. The hardest part would be not dropping the paintings when we took them off the walls.

“You’re sure?” I flipped through the house photos and turned to Mickey. “You know I’ll go in with you.”

“You don’t have anything to prove,” he replied, shaking his head. “You’ve never been arrested since you were a kid. Besides, for the rest of us, what’s a little conviction for grand robbery and interstate traffic of stolen goods gonna matter? If you’re caught, whadda they get you for – petty vandalism?”

“If you’re caught, don’t even come back here.” Barney laughed, then downed a swig of beer. “We’ll hold back half your stake.”

“We all voted,” Dee said. “It’s not up for discussion. We want to keep you safe and sound. For your little Tess,” she giggled.

I looked at the addresses. El Bravo, Clarke, Wells Road.

Some of the nicest streets in Palm Beach. The “core people” lived there – the Old Guard.

“We meet back here at half past nine,” Mickey said. “We should have the money in our accounts tomorrow. Any questions?”

Mickey looked around the table. The people I’d known all my life, my best friends.