“Who’s going to take care of the girl?”
“Get Louis in here. That’s his job.”
Gollowitz got up, crossed the room, opened the door near the bar and beckoned to Seigel.
Seigel came in as if he were walking on egg-shells. He was no fool. From what he had heard he knew Maurer had handled June Arnot’s killing himself, and he was appalled at the possible consequences. He knew one slip now might upset the whole of the carefully built-up kingdom. He had clawed his way up the ladder during the past ten years until he was now in the highest position he could ever hope to attain, with plenty of money, plenty of women, and every conceivable luxury within reach. The thought of losing what he had gained filled him with a sick, vicious rage.
“Louis, this girl’s got to be hit,” Maurer said, coming immediately to the point. “McCann will let you know where she is. You’ve got to move fast. We have half an hour before Conrad moves in.”
Seigel stared at him.
“It’ll have to be a crude job, Mr. Maurer,” he said. “We shan’t have time to case the joint, and that’s bad.”
“I don’t care how the job’s done so long as it is done. Who’s going to do it?”
Seigel thought for a moment.
“Moe and Pete,” he said finally.