The first person he saw was a woman whom he had never seen before. She-was sitting on a broad desk, talking to two men. One of the men, in ill-fitting dinner clothes, was unfamiliar — the other man turned as he watched, and Kells recognized Lieutenant Reilly.
Reilly was heavy, shapeless. A cast in one eye gave his bloated, florid face a shrewdly evil quality. He was holding a tall glass of beer in-one hand; he lifted it, drank deeply.
There were two large washtubs full of bottled beer and ice on the floor near the desk.
Another woman, in a bright orange evening gown, crossed Kells’ line of vision, stooped and took two bottles from one of the tubs, disappeared.
Kells’ lips framed the word. “Party.” He was grinning.
Then he saw Ruth Perry. She was sitting on a dilapidated couch at one side of the room, swaying drunkenly back and forth, talking loudly to the man beside her. Kells put his ear to the pane but couldn’t quite make out the words.
The man beside her was MacAlmon.
Then the rough pine door in the middle of the far wall opened and two men came in. In the moment the door was open, Kells saw a swirl of people around one of the crap tables in the big gambling room. Then the door closed; Kells looked at the two men.
One of them was a short-bodied, long-armed man whom Kells remembered vaguely from somewhere. His face was broad and bland and child-like.
The other was Jack Rose.