Alex nodded and grunted.
Fenner said, “Okay. What are we waitin’ for? Where’s Whiskey Joe’s?”
“It’s a joint near Nigger Beach.”
Fenner turned to Noolen. “I’m goin’ after Carlos. When I get back, I’ve got something to say to you. Stick around. This is the finish of this business.”
He turned to the other two: “Get a couple of Thompsons. We’re goin’ to Whiskey Joe’s. Carlos’s over there.”
Alex went away. Kemerinski said, “Just we three?” He sounded a little uneasy-
Fenner shook his head. “I’m going. You two come in later and clear up the mess.”
Fenner went out with Kemerinski. Alex was waiting in the car, nursing two Thompsons. As Kemerinski drove off, Fenner said, “You two take the guns. You wait outside until you hear shooting, then come in and blast everything you see. Don’t stop shooting until there’s nothin’ to shoot at— get it?”
Alex said, “This has been a swell night.”
The big car went down Duval Street fast. Duval Street stretched right across the whole length of the island. It was late, and they met no cars. Kemerinski drove very fast. He cut speed as he reached South Street and swung the car to the right. At the bottom of South Street he drew to the curb and killed the engine. “Whiskey’s over on the corner at Nigger Beach.”