A glimmer of reason was dawning on Jake Dermott. He studied Sneaks Rubin’s ugly countenance with hungry eyes.
“You’re sure about Wednesday night?”
“Get that three grand,” declared Sneaks. “I’d rather handle this than let Markan try it. He’ll get the credit for it — an’ a funeral will go with it.”
“But if Double Z tips off the dicks, with all this mess still stewing, they’ll be watchin’ the hotel—”
“Let them watch — Bodine won’t be there!”
“Where’ll he be?”
“In his hideout. The hotel is a blind. That’s the dope you’re to give Markan for his grand. I know where the hideout is. No bodyguards. Bodine ain’t trustin’ them right now.”
“Whew!” exclaimed Jake Dermott.
“That’s the lay,” Sneaks talked on. “I’ve got the guts to do the job. I picked him for Double Z. He’s a one-man mob in himself, but I ain’t trustin’ him alone on this trip. He’d go through with it, but it’s too risky.
He’s been lookin’ for a pal, an’ he’s got one.”