The bootblack’s was not hard to find. It was the only lighted place along the length of the dark, sinister alley. Moreover, it was more brightly illuminated than is usual for bootblack parlors.
A stubby, swarthy man came to the door, and admitted that he was Angelo. His bright, piercing eyes took in Harry’s features.
Feeling a strange uneasiness, Harry delivered the envelope and left hurriedly.
BEFORE he had gone a dozen strides, two men abruptly emerged from the darkness. Harry was about to shout, but felt the muzzle of a revolver digging into his side.
“Keep moving!” The command came in a harsh tone, tinged with an Italian accent. Harry shuddered. The two words had been sufficient for him to recognize the voice of John Genara.
On the other side of Harry, the second man pressed closely. That would be Anelmo.
Harry Vincent was in the company of the Homicide Twins!
He decided there was nothing to do at the moment except to obey the killers. Moving at a brisk gait, the captors and their prisoner reached the end of the alley.
A few passers-by chanced to be on the opposite side of the street, but Harry was not so impatient for death as to risk crying out. He had no alternative save to play the game of the Homicide Twins.
A large sedan parked beside the curb. Roughly, Harry was shoved into its front seat.