Rico turned to Chiggi.
“A guy tried to pop me over at Frank’s. This bird has spilled something. I got to be moving.”
Chiggi’s eyes got big.
“You gonna pull out, Louis?”
“I got to,” said Rico; “somebody’s looking for that seven grand.”
“Jesus, Louis,” said Chiggi, “what we gonna do without you?”
“Best you can,” said Rico. “Go get me a cab, Chiggi, I’m moving right now.”
Chiggi went out of the room. Rico took Red by the shoulders and shook him. Red blinked his eyes.
“Red,” said Rico, “was you on a bat with some Chicago guys?”
“Was I?” cried Red; “spent a hundred bucks on them birds.”
“Any of them know me?”
Red rolled his head from side to side, and sang, then he smashed his fists down on the table.
“Rico,” he said, “old Red’s going back to the big burg, yes sir, old Red’s tired of this tank town. Old Red’s got a good stake now and he’s moving. They run me out once but I ain’t scairt of them no more. I’m going back and show ’em who Red Hackett is. Yeah bo!”
Rico shook him.
“Listen, Red,” he said, “did any of them birds know me?”
Red lolled his head, trying to focus his eyes on Rico.
“One of them guys was a personal friend of yours,” said Red; “fact, he asked me if you wasn’t laying up here, see, he knew all right; wasn’t no harm in telling him nothing.”
“Who was he?” shouted Rico.
Red thought for a moment, then he said:
“I can’t seem to remember. He’s a wop, all right, a bald-headed wop.”
“Scabby!” Rico exclaimed.
Good God, wasn’t that a break! Scabby hated him and Scabby would sell his own mother out for a split on seven grand. Rico felt resentful. Just his damn luck to get mixed up with a bunch of yellow-bellies and softies.
Chiggi came in.
“Cab out in front, Louis,” he said.
Rico pointed at Red.
“That guy spilled the works. For two bits I’d bump him off.”
Rico was furious. He made a move towards his armpit, but one of the bartenders opened the door and yelled:
“The bulls!”
“What!” cried Rico.
The bartender was trembling all over and his face was white.
“Police car out in front, boss.”
Rico made a dive for the door but Chiggi grabbed him by the arm.
“Out the back, Louis.”
Chiggi leapt across the room and pulled a switch and all the lights in the place went out. Then he took Rico by the arm and led him through the hall and out into a little court at the rear.
“So long, Louis,” he said.
Chiggi slammed the door. Rico was in utter darkness.
“A hell of a chance I got,” he said.
He stepped cautiously out into the alley back of the court and took a look around. The alley was blind to his right; to his left it came out onto a main thoroughfare and there was a bright arc light at the end. Rico took out his gun and moved slowly towards the arc light.
“You can’t never tell,” he said; then, in an excess of rage: “They’ll never put no cuffs on this baby.”
When he was within fifty feet of the main thoroughfare a man appeared at the end of the alleyway, a big man in a derby hat. He saw Rico and immediately blew a blast on his whistle. Rico raised his gun and pulled the trigger; it missed fire.
Rico was frantic. He wanted to live. For the first time in his life he addressed a vague power which he felt to be stronger than himself.
“Give me a break! Give me a break!” he implored.
The man in the derby hat raised his arm and Rico rushed him, pumping lead. Rico saw a long spurt of flame and then something hit him a sledgehammer blow in the chest. He took two steps, dropped his gun, and fell flat on his face. He heard a rush of feet up the alley.
“Mother of God,” he said, “is this the end of Rico?”
Colophon
Little Caesar
was published in by
W. R. Burnett.
This ebook was transcribed and produced for
Standard Ebooks
by
Alex Cabal,
and is based on digital scans from the
Internet Archive.
The cover page is adapted from
Snow Bird,
a painting completed in by
Fred Craft.
The cover and title pages feature the
League Spartan and Sorts Mill Goudy
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The League of Moveable Type.
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