“Speaking of Costain,” he said softly, “has he turned up yet?” He turned to Doyle. “Something tells me he wasn’t at Tony’s and that he’s still in one piece.”
They were all looking at Green; Demetrios and the lieutenant with more or less puzzled expressions, Doyle with a broad grin.
Doyle laughed. “You’re a little behind the times, Nicky,” he boomed. “They found what was left of Costain on the New York Central tracks at a Hundred an’ Twenty-first Street a little while ago. No mistake about it this time. He was identified by a lot of papers an’ stuff in his pockets.”
The lieutenant said: “That’s why we woke up his nibs, here. We thought he might know something about it.”
Demetrios turned and closed the window savagely. “I don’t know nothing about it,” he snarled. “I told Lew I didn’t want no part of it.. I been in bed since ten o’clock an’ got a witness to prove it. There’s been three phone calls through the switchboard, so the operator knows I was in.”
Green asked gently: “Told Lew you didn’t want any part of what?”
“Any part of nothing! Me an’ him was washed up. He’s been screwy for the last week. He thought everybody was trying to double-cross him.”
Green purred: “Everybody probably was.”
Doyle repeated: “Any part of what, Demetrios?”
Demetrios sat down. “He was tipped off yesterday that Gino an’ Tony were juggling the books. One of Tony’s barbers called him an’ said instead of the syndicate going into the red like it’s supposed to been going the last few weeks, it’s been cleaning up important money. Costain never paid any attention to the business. He didn’t have no head for figures. He furnished the original bankroll an’ trusted Gino an’ Tony to take care of the business.”