By Andrew Vachss
Eddie starts off stealing vehicles lengthy earlier than he is sufficiently old to get a license, pushed by way of a strength so compelling that he by no means questions, simply obeys. After a chain of fake begins, interrupted by way of remains in juvenile associations and a kingdom criminal time period, Eddie's abilities and loyalty allure the eye of J.C., a near-legendary hijacker. while he will get out, Eddie turns into the driving force for J.C.'s ultra-professional workforce. J.C., the grasp planner, is ultimately able to pull off that one large task each con goals of ... the Retirement rating. yet a few roads have twists even a certified getaway guy could not foresee ...Andrew Vachss, a author greatly acclaimed for respiring new existence and demise into the crime style, the following offers a vintage noir story, relentlessly exhibiting and dissecting no longer guilt, yet innocence.
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Extra info for The Getaway Man
I said. “Once that little girl tells who—” “Janine’s not going to tell,” Tim said. ” “We made a pact,” Tim said. “A blood pact, between kin. ” “Maybe. And even if he did, it’d be only for a couple of years. ” “He has to be worried, though,” Virgil said. ” “He’s not worried about the law,” Tim said. ” “He doesn’t know—” “Sure, he knows, little brother. You think that whore Brenda wasn’t on the phone to him first thing? Hell, she’s probably with him right now. It’s for damn sure Wallace hasn’t been sleeping at their place.
I don’t know how much Rochelle liked me, but I liked her, all right. In the morning, I drove her to work. She was a waitress, and she had the early shift. I saw her for a few weeks straight after that. I used some of the money from the job to buy her a bracelet she saw in a store window. Rochelle said she really liked that bracelet, so I knew I couldn’t go wrong getting it for her. One night, Rochelle told me her man would be back sometime the next day. The County was cutting him loose, and he would be moving back in with her.
I revved the engine, put the car in first, held the clutch down. Virgil threw the laundry sack in the side window. It landed right next to me. He crawled in behind; Tim jumped in the front. They pulled their masks off. The flames were swallowing the stairs. I dropped the clutch. We came out of that lot like a shotgun blast. The stock car got a little sideways on the dirt, but I was ready for it to do that, and I never had to let off the gas. The road went straight as a string for about five miles before there was any chance to turn off.
The Getaway Man by Andrew Vachss