Scalfoni swung his short legs. “I got just the thing for those guys,” he said, with a cold grin. “How would you like to take a load of bombs with you?”
Fenner looked vaguely round the room. “Bombs?” he said. “Sure, bring bombs.” A fixed ice-cold look crept into his eyes. “Sure,” he repeated, “that’s quite an idea.”
Noolen said uneasily, “The cops’ll make a hell of a row about bombs.”
Fenner shook his head. “The cops won’t worry about Carlos. They’ll hang out bunting when that guy croaks.”
Scalfoni got up. “When do we go?” he said. There was a tight eagerness in his voice.
“We’ll go now. We’ll go just as soon as the boat’s ready an’ you boys have collected some artillery.”
Scalfoni hesitated, then shrugged. “I gotta date, but I guess she’ll have to wait. This sounds like it’s goin’ to be quite a party.”
Fenner said, “Where’s your boat?”—to Kemerinski.
“It’s in the harbor opposite the San Francisco Hotel.”
“Okay. Suppose you boys meet me in an hour’s time on the boat?”