The Homicide Twins were ushered into Savoli’s apartment. They did not sit down when they reached the library; instead, they remained standing, awaiting the arrival of Savoli and Borrango.
The big shot and his enforcer came in, Borrango walking in front. The killers had expected this. Their plan was laid out.
“Well?” questioned Savoli, as he sat in his big chair.
Borrango also looked intently at the visitors as he leaned against the bookcase.
“We have seen The Shadow once more,” said Anelmo, stepping forward toward Savoli. Genara, moving slightly, edged in Borrango’s direction.
Nick Savoli rested his chin on his left hand, and slipped his right hand into the pocket of his smoking jacket. It was a characteristic pose of the big shot; it meant that he was keenly interested.
“He came by us, in another car,” said Anelmo. He made a gesture with his left hand, as though to describe the scene. “Before we could stop, he — “
With a rapid movement, Tony Anelmo whipped out an automatic with his right hand. The action required but a fraction of a second. Yet it was the last deed that the Sicilian ever performed.
Neither he nor his companion, Genara, were quick on the draw. They were sinister killers who came upon men in the dark. They lacked the speed of other notorious gunmen. Anelmo did not live long to regret his laxity in this phase of gunmanship.
Before he could cover Nick Savoli, the big shot fired, using an automatic that was hidden in the large pocket of his jacket. The bullets found their mark. Tony Anelmo sprawled upon the floor without a word.