His small eyes were sunk so deeply into dark-ringed sockets as to be almost invisible, but when Seigel looked closer it seemed to him he was looking into the fixed, unnatural eyes of a wax effigy.
Both Gollowitz and Seigel were so startled by Ferrari’s unexpected appearance that they remained staring at him, unable to utter a word.
Ferrari took off his black hat. His thick mass of dark hair was turning a little grey at the temples. He put the hat on the desk and then sat down in the chair Seigel had occupied.
“A woman and man, that’s right, isn’t it?” he said. He had a queer husky voice that sent a chill up Seigel’s spine. It was the kind of voice you might hear come from the mouth of a medium at a séance.
Gollowitz hastily collected himself.
“I am very glad to have you here,” he said, and was aware that he was gushing without being able to help himself. “It was very good of Big Joe…”
“Where are they?” Ferrari interrupted, his sunken eyes on Gollowitz’s face.
Gollowitz gulped, stuttered and looked helplessly at Seigel.
“You mean these two you’ve come to take care of?” Seigel asked, his voice off-key.
“Who else?” Ferrari said impatiently. “Where are they? Don’t you know?”