As they walked along, Joe came up close to Rico and whispered: “Little Arnie.”
Rico nodded. Pepi heard Joe.
“Yeah,” he said, “and I’m gonna plug him tonight.”
“There won’t be no plugging,” said Rico.
“Aw, hell,” said Pepi.
Otero was excited.
“Yes, yes, Rico,” he cried.
“Shut up, you birds,” said Rico; “who the hell’s running this show?”
A crowd was waiting for them in front of The Palermo. Bat Carillo and Ottavio Vettori began to yell as soon as they saw that Rico was on his feet.
Jastrow turned around.
“Well, I guess I done my duty.”
“Sure,” said Rico, “come in and have a drink.”
“Nothing doing,” said Jastrow, then he shouted: “You birds quit your damn yelling and get in off the sidewalk.”
Everybody laughed. They all liked Jastrow, who had the reputation of being on the square. Rico went in escorted by a mob of Little Italians. In the club people were standing on the tables; the orchestra was playing loudly; and Sam Vettori, in the middle of the deserted dance floor, was waving his arms wildly and bellowing.
When they saw Rico there was a tumult.
“Rico! Rico! Rico!”
Killer Pepi and Otero, intoxicated by the excitement, grabbed each other and began to dance. Joe waved the bandages. Rico took off his hat and smiled.
On the way up the stairs Rico turned to Joe and said:
“Go get The Sheeny.”
Killer Pepi took Rico by the arm.
“He’s upstairs now, boss,” he said; “the Kid got plugged.”
“How’d you make out?” Rico inquired.
“OK,” said Killer Pepi; “we was making a getaway on the third stand when one of the guys plugged the Kid. He ain’t hurt much. Just skinned him.”
Killer Pepi and Kid Bean had robbed twenty-five filling-stations in the last two weeks.
“All right,” said Rico, “you guys have been on the up and up. Split the money two ways.”
“That’s the talk, boss,” said the Killer.
Otero knocked on the door. Joe Sansone’s face appeared at the grating, then the door swung open.
The Sheeny was working on Kid Bean. The Kid was lying on the card table, smoking a cigarette. His shirt was off and there was a smear of blood on his hairy chest. When he saw Rico he said:
“They damn near hit the target, boss.”
He pointed to a pierced heart tattooed on his chest. He was as proud of his tattooing as a Maori chief.
“The boss got plugged,” said Pepi.
“What!” yelled the Kid, sitting up; “go fix him up, Sheeny.”
He gave The Sheeny a push. But Rico said:
“Finish up the Kid first. I can wait.”
“Only jist got to bandage him yet,” said The Sheeny with his ingratiating smile.
The Sheeny was a graduate doctor, but he had been sent up for an illegal operation and his licence had been revoked. He said his name was Lazarro, but nobody believed him and everybody referred to him simply as The Sheeny.
Rico took off his coat and shirt, and sat waiting. His wound had stopped bleeding.
Joe Massara came over and stood by his chair. Joe’s big cut for an inside job had pulled him back to the fold. He never talked any more about quitting the racket. The Courtney affair had blown over apparently, and he had regained his confidence.
“Joe,” said Rico, “how come they gave you the tip?”
“Well,” said Joe, “I ain’t sure, but I think it was an outsider that didn’t know nobody but me. He sure had the dope all right. He said the guys were gonna park at twelve. They didn’t expect you out till two or three.”
“A fine bunch of gunmen Arnie picked!”
“Yeah,” said Joe.
The Kid climbed off the table and stood feeling his chest.
“Boy, I thought I was plugged for sure.”
“They just bounce off you,” said Pepi.
The Sheeny began to bathe Rico’s wound.
“ ’Tain’t much,” he said, “but it pays to be careful.”
When The Sheeny had got Rico bandaged, Rico put on his shirt and sat smoking. Bat Carillo and Ottavio Vettori, whom he had sent for, came in and sat down beside him. The Sheeny put on his hat.
“Well,” he said, smiling at Rico, “I guess I’m done. If you guys have any trouble with them wounds let me know.”
Rico got his billfold and gave The Sheeny a fifty.
“Thank you! Thank you!” said The Sheeny, bowing.
Joe Sansone let him out.
Rico said:
“Now listen, you birds, tonight’s the big cleanup. If these guys want trouble, why, that’s what we’re looking for.”
“You bet,” said Killer Pepi.
“Now,” Rico went on, “I got things fixed with Joe Peeper and I’m gonna to give Little Arnie the grand rush right away. I want Killer Pepi and Otero and Ottavio to go with me.”
“How about me?” demanded Joe Sansone.
“You too, Joe. And you, Bat, I want you to take your gang and smash up Jew Mike’s. Run everybody out and then smash the place. If Little Arnie wants trouble, why that’s what we got the most of. Got it?”
“OK,” said Bat, “how about the rods?”
“Don’t use ’em,” said Rico; “Jew Mike’s yellow and he won’t put up no fight.”
“Them guys of mine are hard to hold on to,” said Carillo, grinning.
“That’s your job,” said Rico. “We got to watch this plugging stuff with Flaherty on our trail.”
“OK, boss,” said Carillo.
III
When the doorman saw Rico get out of the automobile, he stood stunned, then, pulling himself together, he made an attempt to run. But Pepi crossed the pavement in two strides, grabbed him by the collar and pushed him ahead of him up the stairs.
“Listen, Handsome,” said Pepi, “you tell the lookout we’re OK or they’ll bury you.”
At the head of the stairs the doorman spoke to the lookout through the shutter.
“These birds are all right,” he said.
The lookout opened the door and Pepi shoved a gun against him.
“Turn your back, Buddy,” said Pepi, “and march straight ahead of me.”
Rico, followed by Joe Sansone, Ottavio Vettori, and Otero, climbed the
