What's In The Briefcase In Pulp Fiction Novels & Stories

If this man were to attack me now, I would not even be able to lift a finger to defend myself. But then, the moment passed, and the dark look disappeared from his eyes. A small smile took its place—nothing but a tiny lifting of his lips, however—and Ricardo turned to a guard who stood behind him. Gesturing to the guard, the guard raised the briefcase in his hand and clicked it open. My heart raced as I saw several hundred thousand dollars in the briefcase, alongside what looked like a Glock and a revolver gun. Ricardo dug underneath all of that and brought out a stack of cards. Pulling one out, he stretched it towards me.

I did not know why my mouth wanted stars more than the sound of the lullaby. At the end, when Miss Vivienne clapped like a magic trick, Dr. Hartman stood up to wash his hands. He left his briefcase on the chair. It was brown and smelled faintly of old paper and ink. He always had little things in his briefcase…colored pens, a box of candies, a small white receipt pad.

All alone, for as long as I could remember. Considering everything that had happened, I suppose what came next was inevitable. I grabbed my shirt and wiped my face. Glanced up and saw them, arranged in orderly piles on shelves under the sales counter. Hand guns. Pistols. Old revolvers and a few shotguns. I didn’t know what kind of pawn shop sells used guns. Didn’t know if it was legal, or if they had to do background checks or anything, or if they needed a license to sell them. But I was getting the idea by then, you understand, that no license existed for what Handy’s sold, and there they were. Hand guns, pistols, revolvers, shot guns and some rifles, all stacked neatly. And of course, sitt

HARRISON’S POV - I returned to the bar where I was scheduled to meet the elderly Mr. Richard in order to obtain what I required from the old man. After checking each document I put it back in the brown envelope and placed the briefcase on the table containing one million dollars. Mr. Richard ordered the two men to open the briefcase. When they opened it, Mr. Richard took out a bundle of money, he checked the money then looked at me. “I had your background investigated, and judging by your wealth, I can tell that all this money is legitimate. And if it turns out to be counterfeit, I know exactly where to hunt you down.”

When they came back, Duke had put the briefcase on the passenger’s seat. At my question, William nodded at Duke and Duke handed the briefcase to me. I was taken aback by its heavy weight but that made me even more curious. I didn’t waste any time opening the briefcase and my eyes went wide when all I saw inside was cash. “What do you need all this money for!?” I brought out bundle after bundle of the hundred dollar bills. “This is up to a hundred thousand, isn’t it?” “Just a bit more.”

Towels were folded evenly on the towel rail of the en suite. Paul handed me a pair of disposable gloves and I opened the large walk-in wardrobe and stepped inside. I touched his suits, his shirts and his trousers. I put my hand in the pockets of his jackets and found a taxi receipt, a dry cleaning tag, a pound coin and an unopened packet of chewing gum. There was a red and black Dunlop golf bag with clubs in one corner. In the middle, there were racks of shoes, at least a dozen pairs, arranged in the neat rows and in the other corner in a large transparent plastic container at least a hundred different varieties of scented massage oils. “What did this guy do for a living?” I asked the D

the boys asked standing up "The eight briefcases of money are gone!"

So standing up he walked to the wardrobe. Mike stretched a bit and he was able to bring the black square object down and that's when he saw it was a briefcase. He took some seconds wondering what was inside the case then he decided not to speculate about it's content but to rather be sure of what really is there so he opened it up and was left shocked at what he saw. Stacked dollar bills! ”Holy Christ," Mike exclaimed and just then. ”What are you doing here?" A stunned female voice said from behind him and Mike turned around to find Gloria standing at the door...

ONE ATTEMPT REMAINING. Gritting my teeth, on a wild impulse, I punched in my own birthday. The safe door clicked and swung open. My eyes went wide. The top-secret safe of a Mafia Don, and the password was my birthday? Holding my breath, I looked inside. There were no business secrets. Just a few boxes and a black leather-bound diary. I opened the first box. Inside, there were no diamonds. Just a pen with bite marks on the end, half an eraser, and a faded pink hair tie.

Not to mention, there was some porno playing on the PC, which I smashed to pieces, feigning annoyance. It looked like it had been in use recently. There was some paperwork recording the raids and whatever money was gathered from the stores that were under the mafia's protection racket scheme. That's just sick... Well, there is nothing useful in here, but a picture is worth ten thousand words. There has to be some sort of switch or trigger to see something hidden beyond the wall or something. I looked around and spotted a wooden, well-polished cabinet with a portrait of a middle-aged couple flashing a cruel smile with a child in their midst.