The Negro said: “Sorry, Vince.”
Sheedy put his hands up.
Kells clicked a button-switch on the wall with his elbow but the lights in the hallway stayed on.
The white man stayed at the end of the hallway about ten feet away from them. He was short, with a broad bland childlike face. He held the revolver close to his stomach, pointed indiscriminately at Kells and Sheedy.
Taylor came up to them, felt Kells for a gun.
Sheedy started to speak, and then the room door opened and Gilroy stood outlined against darkness.
He asked: “Wha’s the mattah with the lights?”
Taylor turned his head, jerked an automatic put of his belt, swung it toward Gilroy. Kells slammed his open left hand down hard on Taylor’s arm and then he got his other arm around Taylor’s neck and hugged him back close to the walls so that Taylor was between him and the short white man.
The white man turned swiftly and disappeared through the door to the cabaret, Sheedy after him. Then Borg came out past Gilroy and clubbed his gun, tapped Taylor back of the ear. Taylor went limp and Kells let him slide down awkwardly to the floor.
Gilroy said: “Well, fo’ goodness’ sake!”