Fenner straightened, glared at Kells. He half turned toward the door.
Kells got up and took three slow steps, then two swiftly, crashed his fist into Fenner’s face. There was a sickening crackly noise and Fenner fell down very hard.
Kells jerked him up and pushed him back into the chair. Kells’ face was worried, solicitous. He said very slow — almost whispered: “Sit still.”
Then he went back to his chair and sat down, went on: “One of the boys sapped the manager. They fanned me and made a pass for Granquist’s handbag. She tossed it out the window, smacked one of them and the other one went after the bag. Granquist faked going after the bag too and I sent Fenner after her, figuring that the stuff wasn’t in the bag and that she’d come back here and that the three of us would get together here for another little talk.”.
Fenner was pressing himself back into the corner of the chair. He was holding his hands to his bloody face and moaning a little.
“When I sent Fenner after Granquist,” Kells went on, “I gave him a gun — one of the boy’s. He was so excited about getting to the bag, or keeping G in sight that he forgot to frisk the manager for his big dough...”
Kells took the yellow envelope out of his pocket. “So I got it.” He leaned forward, pressed the edges of the envelope and a little packet of cigar coupons fell out on the floor.
“Almost enough to get a package of razor blades.”
Beery grinned.
Kells said: “Granquist headed over here, so Fenner knew that the bag had been a stall, followed her. When she came in past the office he ducked up the side way and, figuring that she had come right up, knocked at her door.”