'The money's been snatched.' Massino told him. 'Get over there . . . get the boys,' and he hung up.
Going down to the garage, he got into the Rolls and began the three mile haul across the City to his down town office.
As he pulled up outside the office block, he saw a prowl car and Toni's Lincoln parked by the kerb. Well, at least he was getting some action, he thought as he rode up to the sixth floor in the elevator. There were two cops standing around looking vague. They stiffened to attention when they saw Massino. Both cops worked in Massino's district and were well looked after. They saluted as Massino stormed into Andy's office.
Benno was sitting on a chair, blood on his face, his eyes glazed. Toni stood by the window. Ernie stood by the open safe.
'What happened?' Massino demanded, coming to rest before Benno who made an effort to stand up but promptly sat down again.
'There was a fire, boss,' he mumbled and his hand went to his head. 'I opened up and there was a newspaper burning. While I was putting it out, I got clubbed.'
'Who did it?' Massino barked.
'I dunno . . . didn't see no one . . . just got clubbed.'
Massino went to the safe, looked inside, looked at the lock, then went to the telephone. He dialled a number while Ernie, Toni, Benno and the two cops watched him.
'I want Cullen,' he said when a woman's sleepy voice answered. 'This is Massino.'
'Oh, Mr. Massino!' The woman's voice came fully awake. 'Jack is out of town. He's attending a conference in New York.'
Massino cursed and slammed down the receiver. He took out an address book from his wallet, checked a number and dialled.
Assistant Police Commissioner Fred Zatski answered. He sounded outraged to be woken at this hour. 'Who the hell is this?'
'Massino. Listen, I want this goddamn town sewn up fast: road blocks, the railroad station, the bus station and the airport. I've had a $186,000 steal and the bastard will try to get out of town. Get moving! Hear me! Seal the whole goddamn town!'
'Just who do you imagine you're talking to?' Zatski bellowed.
'Alert headquarters! Don't bother me! And listen, Massino, you may imagine you're someone in this town, but to me, you're just a bladder of wind,' and he hung up.
Massino's face turned purple with rage. He yelled at the two cops, 'Get moving, you hunkheads! Get someone who can do something here . . . hear me!'
As O'Brien, the older of the two, jumped to the telephone, Andy Lucas came in. He had obviously come in a hurry. He was wearing a jacket and trousers over his pyjamas.
He looked into the safe, then at the lock, then met Massino's enraged eyes.
'It's an inside job,' he said. 'He'll try to run. He had a key.'
'You telling me?' Massino snarled. 'Think I'm blind! Cullen's out of town and this bastard Zatski won't play!'
O'Brien said, 'Excuse me, Mr. Massino, Lieutenant Mulligan with the squad is on his way.'
Massino looked around the room like an enraged bull hunting a target.
'Where's Johnny? I want my best man around me!'
'He didn't answer when I called him,' Andy said. 'He's not at home.'
'I want him here!' Massino pointed at Toni. 'Don't stand around like a goddamn dummy . . . get Johnny!'
As Toni left the office, Andy said quietly, 'We'd better talk, Mr. Joe.'
Massino snorted. He nodded at Ernie.
'Get Benno to hospital,' and leaving the office he crossed the passage, unlocked his office door and went in, followed by Andy.
He sat down at his desk and stared at Andy who sat on the corner of the desk.
'We're in trouble,' Andy said. 'At midday we have to pay out or there'll be a riot. We've got to borrow the money, Mr. Joe, or we're sunk. If the newspapers get hold of this the numbers will come under the limelight and Cullen will also be in trouble.'
'So?'
'Tanza is our only chance. It'll cost, but we've got to go to him.'
Massino clenched his big fists but he knew Andy was talking sense. The wail of a police siren sounded.
'You handle Mulligan,' he said. 'Get the town sealed off. I'll talk to Tanza.'
'Whoever took the money is out of town by now,' Andy said, 'but we'll go through the motions.' He went out, closing the door.
Massino pulled the telephone towards him, hesitated, then dialled a number. As he did so, he looked at his desk clock. The time now was 04.25.
Carlo Tanza was the head man of the Mafia cell in town. He was just one of the many arms of the Mafia octopus: a man of power, to whom Massino paid a weekly cut on his Numbers racket, his loan shark service and his vice earnings.
