'Where is he?'
'I don't know,' Melanie sobbed.
He slapped her twice, jerking her head from side to side.
'Where is he?' he yelled at her. 'Come on, baby, spill it!'
She lay stunned by the force of the slaps.
'I don't know,' she mumbled, trying to shield her face. 'I don't know anything!'
Toni hesitated. He was almost sure she was lying, but to knock Johnny Bianda's girl about could be asking for real trouble if he was making a mistake.
If Johnny suddenly walked in and caught him with this chick, Johnny would kill him. Toni had no doubt about that.
'Get your clothes on,' he said. 'You and me are going for a ride. Come on!'
'I won't go with you! Get out!' Melanie screamed. Then sliding down the bed away from him, she was on her feet and out into the sitting-room before be could stop her.
Cursing, Toni rushed after her, caught her at the front door and dragged her back into the bedroom. He pulled his gun and shoved the barrel into her chest.
'Get dressed!' he snarled.
She looked with horror at the gun, then he had no more trouble with her.
Twenty minutes later, he led her into Massino's office.
'Something stinks here, boss,' he said as Massino glared first at him and then at Melanie. 'Maybe you can talk to her.' He went on to tell Massino about Johnny's car, about Melanie's terror and no Johnny.
'What are you trying to tell me?' Massino snarled. 'You telling me Johnny took the money?'
'I'm telling you nothing. She'll tell you.'
Massino turned his bloodshot, enraged eyes on Melanie who shrivelled under his glare.
'Where's Johnny?'
She began to sob helplessly.
'I don't know. He went out on a job . . . that's what he called it. Don't touch me! He told me I was to be his alibi. He lost his medal . . .'
Massino drew a long slow breath.
'Sit down,' he said. 'Here, Toni, give her a chair.' Then he began to question Melanie who talked, terrified by the staring bloodshot eyes and the fat, stone- hard face.
'Okay,' Massino said finally. 'Take her home, Toni,' and getting up he went into Andy's office where Lieutenant Mulligan was about to leave. Massino drew him aside. 'I want you to pick up Johnny Bianda,' he said. 'Turn every goddamn cop you've got on the job. Keep it quiet . . . understand?'
Mulligan gaped at him.
'Bianda? You think he's behind this?'
Massino grinned like a wolf.
'I don't know, but if you can't find him in four or five hours, he could be. Drop everything . . . get after Bianda!'
At 10.00, Carlo Tanza arrived in a Cadillac with three bodyguards. With a wide, oily smile he watched them dump two heavy suitcases on Massino's desk.
Tanza was a short, stocky Italian with a balding head, a big paunch, tiny, evil eyes and lips like red wine.
He shook hands with Massino, waved his men out of the office, nodded to Andy who stayed to count the money, then sat down. 'There's the money, Joe,' he said. 'You ask, you get. How's that for service?'
Massino nodded.
'Thanks.'
'The boss talked to me on the phone,' Tanza said.
'He wasn't pleased. If you want to hold on to your Numbers, Joe, you have got to wake up your ideas. This safe . . .'
'I'm getting a new one.'
'I guessed you would. Now, who took the money?'
'Nothing certain yet,' Massino said, 'but it points to Johnny Bianda. He's gone missing.'
'Bianda?' Tanza looked startled. 'I got the idea he was your best man.'
'Yeah.' Massino's face turned red and his little eyes glittered, 'but it points to him,' and he went on to tell Tanza about Melanie, the alibi and the fact Johnny's car was still parked outside Melanie's pad.
'You're sure the girl knows nothing?'
'I'm sure. I scared the crap out of the bitch.'
