Fenner paused. “What are you yapping about?”
“My people are afraid to go up on floor three. There’s a rough hoodlum sitting up there, not letting anyone pass. I’ve threatened him with the police, but he says you told him td stick around. What does it mean?”
Fenner said, “Get my check ready. I’m moving out.” He went upstairs quickly, leaving the manager protesting. There was no sign of Bugsey when he reached his room, and he kicked open the door and went in.
Glorie was sitting up in bed and Bugsey was sitting close to her. They were playing cards. Bugsey wore a pair of white shorts and his hat. Sweat was running down his fat back.
Fenner stood still. “What’s goin’ on here?”
Glorie threw down her cards. “Where have you been?” she said. “What’s happened to you?”
Fenner came in and shut the door. “Plenty,” he said. Then, turning to Bugsey, “What you think you’re doing—a strip tease?”
Glorie said, “He was playing for my nightie, but I beat him to it.”
Bugsey grabbed his trousers. “You sure came in at the right moment,” he said feverishly. “That dame’s a mean card player.”
Fenner wasn’t in the mood for laughter. He said, “Get out quick and get a closed car. Park it at the rear of the building in a quarter of an hour.”