“I don’t know. He disappeared.”
Gollowitz felt the blood drain out of his face.
“You don’t know?” he repeated, starting out of his chair.
Seigel stared at him.
“He’ll turn up. I’ll kick hell out of the punk when I do catch up with him!”
“You goddamn fool!” Gollowitz shouted, his face twitching. “That girl will give a description of him. A blind man could find the punk with that stain on his face. The police will pick him up quick enough, and if he talks we are really sunk. Don’t you see that? All the girl needs to hang the lot of us is corroboration, and to save his skin Weiner will corroborate till he is black in the face. He got his orders from you, didn’t he? Well, they’ll slap an attempted murder charge on you if Weiner talks! And he will talk, make no mistake about that!” He waved his fat fists in the Mr. “Get after him! Find and silence him! Leave the girl to me! I’ll handle her, but get after Weiner. Put every man you’ve got after him. Go yourself!”
Seigel stood rooted, gaping at the screaming, gesticulating figure, then he realized Gollowitz was talking sense.
“I’ll get him!” he said, and snatched open a drawer in his desk. He took out a .45 automatic and shoved it in his hip pocket. “I’ll get him — I’ll get him myself,” and he went out of the room at a run.
IV
Conrad had never seen the D.A. look so excited as he listened to Conrad’s story of the killing of Moe and the finding of Frances Coleman.