“I?ll keep that in mind. Have you seen Cisco yet?”
“Talked to him on the phone. I?m meeting him for breakfast. Maybe you ought to join us.”
“I think I?ll pass. If any of these guys spot me with you this soon they could get antsy. Right now they
trust me. I?d like to keep it that way.”
“Whatever,” I said as Dutch joined us.
“That was a nice job,” he said to me. “I liked the little heart tug at the end.” And then to Stick: “What
have you been up to?”
“Hound-dogging Costello. He and Cohen spent the day on his yacht, talking business.”
“Great. That?s two more we can alibi.” Then back at me: “You talk to Cisco yet?”
“Just before the meeting. He suggested maybe Stick and I should team up. is that a problem?”
“I guess not. It?s a pretty loose operation. I?ll move you around a little bit, just so?s the rest of the boys
don?t wonder why I?ve put the two newcomers together. So what can I tell you, you don?t know
already?”
“Anybody on the local scene I ought to know about?” I asked, not really expecting an answer.
“Just Longnose Graves,” Dutch said.
“Longnose Graves?” I said, chuckling at the moniker. Dutch stared at me through his hooded eyes.
“He ain?t a laughing matter,” the big man said.
“Oh? Who is he?”
Dutch scratched the edge of his jaw with a thumb. “The local bandit,” he said. “Not a local bandit, the
local bandit.” He tossed a sideways glance at the Stick. “This business tonight, I hope it doesn?t blow
up like the Cherry McGee thing.”
“Cherry McGee?” I said. “Would that be the McGee from up in Pittsburgh?”
“The McGee I?m talking about is planted in the local cemetery,” said Dutch. “Compliments of Nose.”
The Stick drew himself a cup of coffee and poured me one. It was strong enough to swim the English
Channel.
“So what?s the story on Graves? What?s he called? Longnose?”
“Not to his face,” Dutch said. Then he ran down the pedigree:
“Graves once had a beak, made Durante look like he had a nose job. He had an inch or so shaved off
it in a fight, but the name sticks. He?s black, a dandy, but not pimp-dandy, know what I mean? Sports
jackets, shirt and tie, likes sports cars—that?s more his style. Long before I got here, Graves
controlled whatever underworld Dunetown had in the old days. Ladies, sharking, the book. He doesn?t
deal iii hard drugs; in fact, he probably kept them out of Doomstown.”
“That?s a switch,” I said.
