“You said something about five,” he shrugged. “That was hours ago,” I said. “I thought better of it. Let’s go up and frisk the apartment.” “Say that just once more—” his right hand slid towards his hip. “If you’re thinking of pulling a gun, Mr. Palermo wouldn’t like it,” I said. “To hell with Mr. Palermo,” he snarled, in a voice suddenly furious, out of a face suddenly charged with dark blood. “Mr. Palermo will be glad to know that’s how you feel about him,” I said. “Look,” the carroty man said very slowly, dropping his hand to his side and leaning forward from the hips and pushing his face at
...more
