Ferrari got out of the armchair, stretched his short arms, took a couple of steps towards the door, then paused.
“I guess I’ll stick around for a couple of days,” he said. “You might need me. You never know.”
“I won’t need you,” Maurer said, trying to speak quietly.
“You never know,” Ferrari repeated. “Big Joe said I was to see this thing through. If you want me to get out, maybe you’d better have a word with him first.”
Maurer glared at Ferrari. Their eyes locked, and Maurer’s was the first to give ground.
“Well, okay, if you want to waste your time,” Maurer said indifferently. “But I don’t need you to handle this. Please yourself what you do.”
“I’ll stick,” Ferrari said, smiled, and went silently out of the room.
Maurer turned and looked at Gollowitz.
“Pleased with yourself, Abe?” he asked softly. “Are you happy you’ve got that little snake into my organization? How have you liked being the boss around here? Think you’ve done well?”
Gollowitz didn’t say anything. He sat staring down at the carpet, his face slack, his hands twitching in his lap.