“It’s a bit late now,” Grantham said. “I suppose it’s Jay Ellinger?”
“Yes, do you know him?”
“I know him all right. He’s been snoopin’ around a little too much lately. Can’t you send him out of town?”
“Well, I could.”
“I’d like you to do that. He makes me nervous. Can’t you send him somewhere out of the way for a little while? I want time to get organized, and I think he’s gettin’ a little too near the truth.”
Poison thought a moment. “Yeah,” he said, “I’ll get him to cover the Tammany Hall trial. That’ll keep him in New York for at least a month. Every paper is sending a reporter. He can’t refuse to go. I could get him on the black list if he did.”
Grantham sighed with relief. “Do that, Poison, and I’ll guarantee you results.”
“Consider it done,” Poison said, and hung up.
Grantham replaced the receiver and relaxed. So far as he could see it was going all right. It depended a lot on Raven. If Raven’s ideas were good the organization would hold together. After all, Mendetta had built it up on sound lines. He had over two hundred girls working for him. He had the Club, which paid very well, and his protection rackets were bringing in big dough. Yes, on the face of it it looked all right.
Grantham reached for another cigarette as the phone rang again.