“Where are we going?” Mack asked.
Miller said, “I’ve found something worthwhile that I want to show you.”
He turned onto Jefferson Avenue and after a time he drove slowly by a lumber yard beside a railroad track. “That’s it,” he said. “I got a tip they’re handling booze in there by the carload. But they don’t ship it until it’s watered down. We’ll come back later and pay them a visit.”
The three men rode aimlessly around Ecorse until mid-morning and then Mack drove back to the lumber yard. They walked into a building where several men were making boxes. Suddenly Mack said, “Here comes a friend of mine.”
Fleishman saw a big, handsome man emerge from an office. He recognized him instantly from his pictures. He was Pete Licavoli, and very plainly Licavoli was upset.
“For God’s sake,” the hoodlum said in disgust, “where did you come from?”
“We just thought we’d pay you a visit,” Mack said. “Nice place you’ve got here.”
“Beat it,” Licavoli snarled. “Beat it and I’ll fix you later.”
Mack said, “Okay, boys, let’s get out of here.”
As they drove from the lumber yard, Mack said, “This thing is too good to put off. I’ll arrange for us to see Pete tonight.”