1
They were all there — Capone, Dillinger, Nelson, Karpis and Charlie Lucky. The table at which they sat was littered with poker chips, playing cards, whisky bottles and glasses. A green shaded lamp hung low over the table; its harsh light fell on their faces, while the rest of the room remained dark and shadowy.
Several men, almost invisible in the gloom and haze o f tobacco smoke, lounged behind the group at the table. They were small men, with eyes like wet stones, swarthy complexions and granite faces.
The group at the table and the men in the shadows suddenly stiffened when George Fraser walked into the room. He stood a few feet from the table, his hands in his coat pockets, his jaw thrust forward and his eyes threatening and cold.
No one spoke; no one moved.
''If any of you guys wants to start something,' George Fraser said, after along pause, 'I'll take care of his widow.'
Very slowly, very cautiously, Capone laid his cards down on the table. 'Hello, George,' he said in a husky whisper.
George Fraser eyed him coldly. There were few men who would have had the nerve to walk alone into that back room and face five of the biggest and most dangerous bosses in the booze racket, but George Fraser was without nerves.
'It's time we had a little talk,' he said, biting off each word. 'You guys have been running this show too long. You're through— the lot of you. From now on, I'm taking over this territory, and I'm running it my way.'
There followed another long pause, then Dillinger, his eyes glowing and his face white with rage, snarled, 'Who said?'
George Fraser smiled. 'I said,' he returned, in his clipped, cold voice.
Dillinger made a growling noise deep in his throat and his hand flashed to his hip pocket.
Capone, sitting next to him, grabbed frantically at his wrist. His fat face was blue-white with fear. 'Do you want to commit suicide?' he yelled. 'You don't stand a chance with Fraser!'
Dillinger, swearing under his breath, tried to break Capone's grip, and the table rocked as the two men wrestled. A bottle of whisky toppled and smashed to pieces on the floor.
'Let him alone, Al,' George Fraser called. 'If he wants to play it that way, you'd better give him some air.'
Capone shot a terrified look at George Fraser. The pale, set face and the eyes that were now like chips o f ice completely unnerved him. He nearly fell over himself to get away from Dillinger.
'Look out!' he cried. 'He's going to shoot!'
The other three at the table kicked their chairs away and jumped clear, while some of the men who had been standing in the shadows threw themselves on the floor.
Dillinger, alone at the table, sat motionless, glaring at George Fraser.
'Okay, Johnny,' George Fraser said mockingly, 'go for your gun. What are you waiting for?'
Dillinger rose slowly to his feet. He swept his chair out of the way and crouched.
'Bet you a hundred bucks I can put five slugs in your pumper before your rod shows,' George Fraser said, letting his hands hang loosely at his sides.
Dillinger cursed him, and then his arm moved with the speed of a striking snake. A heavy, snub- nosed automatic jumped as if by magic into George Fraser's hand. The room rocked with the sound of gunfire.
Dillinger, his eyes wide and sightless, crashed to the floor and rolled over on his back.
'Take a look at him, Charlie,' George Fraser said, his eyes on the group of men huddled against the wall.
Charlie Lucky, after a moment's hesitation, reached forward, pulled Dillinger's coat back and ripped open his shirt.
'Five slugs, 'he said, his voice cracking; 'all in the same spot.'
'Good morning, Mr George,' Ella said, putting a cup of watery tea on the bamboo table by the bed. 'Did I wake you?'
'Hmm?' George Fraser asked. He looked up with blank astonishment at Ella in her frowsy blue uniform and her ridiculous cap perched on the top of her mouse-coloured hair. 'Good Lord! You gave me quite a turn. I didn't hear you come in. I must've been dozing . . .'
'It's ever such a lovely morning,' Ella went on, crossing the drab little room, and pulling up the blind. 'The sun's shining and there ain't a cloud in the sky.'
George Fraser closed his eyes against the bright sunlight that streamed through the grimy window pane. The image he had been creating of himself as 'Machine-gun Fraser', millionaire gangster, still gripped his imagination, and Ella's unexpected intrusion fuddled him.
