next few days.”
“Why especially?”
“Look at this—one grand piece of double-crossing. This village of ours is full of mean lads who are waiting right now for these stiffs to bring ’em their cut of the stickup. What do you think’s going to happen when the word gets out that there’s not going to be any gravy for the mob? There are going to be a hundred and more stranded thugs busy raising getaway dough. There’ll be three burglaries to a block and a stickup to every corner until the carfare’s raised. God bless you, my son, you’re going to sweat for your wages!”
Duff shrugged his thick shoulders and stepped over bodies to get to the telephone. When he was through I called the agency.
“Jack Counihan called a couple of minutes ago,” Fiske told me, and gave me an Army Street address. “He says he put his man in there, with company.”