Halloran started to speak with his mouth full, but Doolin interrupted him: “The answer to that is that Martinelli had hooked up with the outfit out here, the outfit that Riccio and Conroy figured on moving in on...”
Halloran said: “Martinelli probably came out to organize things for a narcotic combination between here and Detroit, in opposition to our local talent. He liked the combination here the way it was and threw in with them — and when Riccio and Conroy arrived Martinelli put the finger on them, for the local boys...”
Doolin swallowed a huge mouthful of bacon and eggs, said: “Swell,” out of the corner of his mouth to Mrs. Sare.
He picked up his cigar and pointed it at Halloran. “That’s the reason he wanted all of you — you an’ Winfield because you’d get the Detroit outfit on his neck if you testified; Decker an’ Coleman because they could spot the L A boys. He didn’t try to proposition any of you — he’s the kind of guy who would figure killing was simpler.”
Halloran said: “He’s got to protect himself against the two men who are in jail too. They’re liable to spill their guts. If everybody who was in on it was bumped there wouldn’t be a chance of those two guys being identified — everything would be rosy.”
They finished their bacon and eggs in silence.
With the coffee, Doolin said: “Funny he didn’t make a pass at you last night — before or after he got Winfield. The same building an’ all...”
“Maybe he did.” Halloran put his arm around Mrs. Sare who was standing beside his chair. “I didn’t get home till around three — he was probably here, missed me.”
Doolin said: “We better go downtown an’ talk to the D A. That poor gal of Winfield’s is probably on the grill. We can clear that up an’ have Martinelli picked up...”
Halloran said: “No.” He said it very emphatically.