Nine parts of his mind saw through nine pairs of eyes the man who stormed in. Nine pairs of ears heard him snarl, "What's the big idea of having my men arrested?"
As quickly as he could Hanlon started bringing the portions of his mind from the roches into his own brain. He sat up on the bed, and made his face look blank—but inside he was thunderstruck. How had Ran Auldin found out he was behind those arrests?
"Why ... why," he pretended to stammer. "I don't know what you're talking about, Ran. What arrests? What's happened?"
The usually fastidious gang-boss was now dirty and his clothing soiled and rumpled. His eyes were red, apparently from sleeplessness, or worry, or both. His voice was still accusing as he answered, "My men were surprised at their work the other night, and I only escaped by luck. Been hiding ever since."
"But what's it all about? Why were they arrested? I don't know anything about what you were doing—Yandor didn't tell...."
"It must have been you. Nobody else knew."
"And I tell you I was not told, either, so how could I know? I've been too busy getting my act ready and putting it on, and Yandor hasn't even mentioned you to me."
Auldin stepped close to the side of the bed as Hanlon struggled to get up, and pushed him down again. Now Hanlon could see that the mobster was carrying in each hand a piece of large rope, approximately half an inch in diameter and about two feet long. The far end of each was tied into a knot, in which pieces of wires had been woven to add weight.
"Maybe you didn't have anything to do with the arrests," Auldin admitted, "but I still think you did. Anyway, you used me to get in good with Yandor, then turned him against me. I don't like that."
Oh, so that was what had really touched him off. Hanlon saw that the slim man was spoiling for a fight—and that he was using almost any excuse to try to take it out of a fellow who was making good where he had failed.