“You and me’ve got a job to do,” Fenner said, looking at the fat man with intent eyes. “The law doesn’t come into this.”
Noolen said viciously, “Get out!”
Without any effort, Fenner hit him on the side of his jaw. Noolen jerked back; his fat thighs, pinned under the desk, saved him from going over. Fenner slid off the desk, took four quick steps away and turned a little so that he could see the three of them.
Bugsey’s hand was groping in his back pocket. His face showed the indecision that was bewildering him.
Fenner said, “Hold it. If you start somethin’, I’ll smack your ears for you.”
Bugsey took his hand away and transferred it to his head. He scratched his square dome violently. “I guess I’ll scram,” he said.
“You’ll stay if you’re wise,” Fenner said evenly. “Carlos might be interested to know what you’ve been doing playin’ around with a dick.”
Bugsey went a little green. “I didn’t know you were a dick,” he said sullenly.
Fenner sneered. “Tell it to Carlos. You don’t have to tell it to me.”
Bugsey hesitated, then he slumped against the wall.