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it”—he paused, grinning a little—“who’re frank with each other and earnest about their work, can pull down three to five grand a week.”
    â€œYou can also pull ten to a quarter in Jackson,” Stick said.
    â€œListen,” Frank said, his voice low and very serious, “I read a true story about two guys who actually did it. Two, three hits a week, they had to keep getting a bigger safe-deposit box. Lived well, I mean well , had all the clothes, broads they wanted, everything. It was written by this psychologist or sociologist, you know? who actually interviewed them.”
    â€œThey told him anything he wanted to know?”
    â€œThey trusted him.”
    â€œWhere was this, where he talked to them?”
    â€œWell, at the time they were in Lucasville, Southern Ohio Correctional, but they went three and a half, four years straight, without ever being arrested. Oh, they were picked up a couple of times, on suspicion, but not for anything nailed down. See, any business will fail if you fuck up. I agree the end result is slightly different here. You don’t just go broke, you’re liable to give up a few years of your life, confined, you might say. But I don’t see any reason to get caught. And that’s where my ten rules for success and happiness come in. I see this strictly as a business venture. What I’m wondering now, if you’re the business partner I’m looking for.”

3

    FRANK RYAN’S TEN RULES FOR success and happiness were written in blue ink on ten different cocktail napkins from the Club Bouzouki, the Lafayette Bar, Edjo’s, and a place called The Lindell AC. Some of the rules, especially the last few, were on torn napkins with crossed-out words and were hard to read. The napkins said:
    Â Â 1.  ALWAYS BE POLITE ON THE JOB. SAY PLEASE AND THANK YOU.
    Â Â 2.  NEVER SAY MORE THAN IS NECESSARY.
    Â Â 3.  NEVER CALL YOUR PARTNER BY NAME—UNLESS YOU USE A MADE-UP NAME.
    Â Â 4.  DRESS WELL. NEVER LOOK SUSPICIOUS OR LIKE A BUM.
    Â Â 5.  NEVER USE YOUR OWN CAR. (DETAILS TO COME.)
    Â Â 6.  NEVER COUNT THE TAKE IN THE CAR.
    Â Â 7.  NEVER FLASH MONEY IN A BAR OR WITH WOMEN.
    Â Â 8.  NEVER GO BACK TO AN OLD BAR OR HANGOUT ONCE YOU HAVE MOVED UP.
    Â Â 9.  NEVER TELL ANYONE YOUR BUSINESS. NEVER TELL A JUNKIE EVEN YOUR NAME.
    10.  NEVER ASSOCIATE WITH PEOPLE KNOWN TO BE IN CRIME.
    The angle of the venetian blinds gave Stick enough outside light. He sat by the window in his striped undershorts, placing the cocktail napkins on his bare leg as he read them again, one by one, concentrating on making out some of the blotted words. He was smoking a Marlboro and taking sips from a can of Busch Bavarian that sat on the metal radiator cover beneath the window. He didn’t look up until the groaning sound came from the bed and he knew Frank was awake.
    â€œWhat’s that noise?”
    â€œAir conditioning,” Stick said. “You want a beer?”
    â€œJesus Christ.” Frank got up on an elbow, looking at the window, squinting. “What time is it?”
    â€œAbout nine thirty. My watch’s over on the TV.” Stick took a swallow of beer as Frank got his feet on the floor and finally stood up. He was wearing jockey shorts and black socks.
    â€œWhere’d you sleep?”
    â€œRight there in bed with you,” Stick said, “but I swear I never touched you.”
    He waited until Frank went into the bathroom, then reached over and pulled the cord on the venetian blinds, raising them and flooding part of the room in morning sunlight. He wanted to get Frank’s reaction when he came out and saw the bright pink walls.
    He didn’t notice them right away. When he came out, he said, “There’s four cans of beer in the washbasin.”
    â€œThree for you and one for me,” Stick said. “I’ve already had a