Crotti had taken two or three steps forward. His head was turned toward Kells and his black wide-set eyes were big, his thick red mouth hung a little open.
The man with two bags still stood just inside the door. His small face was entirely expressionless; he bent his knees slowly and put down the bags. The other man looked up at Borg and his face was soft and childlike and surprised; then he toppled over on his side.
MacAlmon was standing up. Kells moved toward Crotti. Borg was staring at Crotti: he moved suddenly forward, very swiftly for a fat man, and took the revolver barrel in his left hand and swung the gun back and brought it down hard on the back of Crotti’s head. Crotti was still looking at Kells. His eyes went dull and he fell down very hard.
The man with two bags had turned and put his hand on the doorknob. Kells said, “Hey,” and the man turned and stood with his back against the door.
Kells went to the door swiftly and reached past the man and turned the key in the lock and took it out and put it in his pocket. He went back to the table and put down the Luger, scooped the money up and stuffed it into his pockets. He glanced at MacAlmon, indicated the three kitbags with his eyes.
“Now you’ve got it. What are you going to do with it?”
MacAlmon was staring down at Crotti. Borg was watching the man at the door. Kells said: “We’re off!”
Borg went to the man at the door and patted his pockets, felt under his arms.
They went out through the kitchen, out through the service entrance into the hall. They heard someone pounding at the front door as they went out. They went down the hall, down the back stairs and out a side door to a small patio. At the street side of the patio Borg stood on a bench and looked over the wall. He shook his head and stepped down, said: “Faber’s gone.”
Kells said: “Maybe we can get through to the next street.”