The sound of water splashing behind the bathroom door made O’Brien’s heart skip a beat.
“You know Weiner puzzles me,” Conrad said. Tm inclined to think his birthmark drove him off the rails. There’s no real vice in him: not like the rest of them. What’s his record amount to? We have no evidence he ever committed violence. As far as I know he specializes in stealing cars for the gang. I’ve talked to him, and I think he could be put back on to the rails again.”
“The hell with him!” O’Brien said savagely. “I’ve got no time for these hoods: and that’s what he is. Just because a guy happens to have a birth-mark doesn’t give him the right to steal cars.”
“Isn’t it time he came out?” Conrad said, looking at his strap watch. “He’s been over twenty minutes.”
“Aw, he doesn’t hurry himself.”
Conrad rapped on the door.
“Snap it up, Weiner!” he called.
O’Brien inwardly cursed Conrad. He wondered if Ferrari had gone. With an unsteady hand he lit a cigarette.
The noise of the storm was slowly receding. Every now and then thunder crashed, but it was now more distant. The rain continued to hammer down on the roof and hiss in the gutters.
O’Brien saw Conrad turn the bathroom door handle, then frown.