Grantham came on the line almost immediately.
“Well, I fixed it,” Mendetta told him. “There ain’t goin’ to be any trouble.”
“No? Well, I’m mighty glad to hear it. Ellinger was in last night, snooping around. I got one of my boys to look after him. He went out with Rogers; then this morning he went round to that screwy little punk Fletcher.
Do you remember him?”
Mendetta was faintly bored with all this. “No,” he said, “I don’t, but it doesn’t matter. I’m telling you”
“Listen, Tootsie, it does matter,” Grantham broke in. “Fletcher was the guy who caused that spot of trouble at the Club a while back about his sister.”
Mendetta’s hard eyes narrowed. “I thought you got rid of that guy,” he said angrily. “You say Ellinger’s been to see him?”
“Yes.”
“Well, what about it?”
“Nothing. I thought I’d tell you.”