The Art of Making Money
bills. True to his word, later that week Pete handed Art seven thousand dollars in real money. It was more cash than Art had ever seen, much less possessed, and it had an instant, opiate effect on the sense of struggle he’d been feeling since he was twelve. He gave some of the money to Karen for the baby, telling her that he was now making good money “working construction” with da Vinci. Then he proceeded to blow most of the rest on a used black Grand Prix. Overnight, he had the nicest car in the projects, and had no worries about saving any money; he knew that soon they would be making more.
    By the time da Vinci called Williams in for their second print run two months later, he was broke and had forgotten almost everything he’d learned. Or, more accurately, he had barely assimilated anything to begin with. “That first time he showed me, I was in awe, and I don’t think I even paid attention to a word Pete said, my heart was racing so fast. But the second time I was a like a hawk. I knew I had to learn this.”
    This time da Vinci allowed Art to do much of the work himself while he stood silently over his shoulder, supervising. He’d watch closely as Art shot negatives and burned plates, offering tips and quizzing him on the process. As Art became proficient in the technical aspects of the craft, he began grilling da Vinci on some of the broader aspects of the crime. One of the first things he wanted to know was what other useful items they could counterfeit. Pete explained that you could also fake bearer bonds, checks, titles of ownership, food and postage stamps, posters to sell at the county fair—almost everything of value sooner or later comes down to paper and ink. Da Vinci had dabbled in all sorts of items over the years, but he considered most of them a waste of time.
    “There’s nothing better to print than money,” he said. “Everybody wants cash. A guy selling drugs is selling it to get cash. A guy stealing jewels is stealing jewels to get cash. We don’t have to do anything but print it.”
    The Secret Service was a frequent topic of conversation. Pete had tremendous respect for the Service, almost to the point where he considered other law enforcement entities minor nuisances. One morning as they were driving to the shop, they spotted two Chicago PD cruisers prowling through the neighborhood. Pete piloted the Caddy and parked in his regular spot like they weren’t even there.
    “Aren’t you worried?” Art asked.
    “Not about the cops I can see,” Pete told him. “I’m worried about the ones I don’t see. When you don’t see them, that’s when you have a problem.”
    Pete taught Art what he knew about the Service’s infamously sneaky methods and tactics. As the original undercover agents, they pride themselves on infiltration. They are also infamously ruthless when it comes to using divide-and-conquer tactics to break up counterfeiting rings. The Service’s annals brim with cases in which they’ve turned family members against each other. Once they catch someone passing counterfeit, they will threaten and pressure them and their families in an effort to turn them into informants against the maker. In recent decades their best weapons have revolved around their surveillance abilities. They can infiltrate counterfeit rings remotely, wiring up informants, phones, and computers to collect evidence from afar. Since it is the same force that protects the president of the United States, it is well funded and possesses the most cutting-edge technology, including an electron microscope capable of analyzing bill components on a molecular level. In a broad sense, the Service’s greatest strength is that it enjoys the benefit of an unambiguous mission.
    “They only have two jobs,” Pete explained. “Protect the president and protect the currency. And they protect the president pretty well, don’t they? Well, they do the same with the money.”
    No matter how hard Art pressed, there were

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