“If he did, he’s a wizard.”
“That’s what he did. It’s the only way he could have done it.”
Frank Marmosa made no reply. He was speechless. The others made no comment. They looked at each other in wonder, and in silent admiration of the amazing Monk Thurman.
To Harry Vincent, the event was a revelation.
There had been five gangsters in that room. Two, the Homicide Twins, had been outwitted. The others, Schultz and Spirak, had been conquered single-handed by a man who held one gun against their four.
Now this amazing gangster had gone, quietly and unobserved, leaving wonderment behind him.
Monk Thurman!
The man was a supergangster. Chicago had never known another like him; that was Le Blanc’s strong statement.
But Harry Vincent was not comparing Monk Thurman with Chicago gangsters. He was comparing him with another person entirely. For Harry had seen another man who could act with such amazing promptness, and who had the ability to make mysterious departures which no one could fathom.
Monk Thurman was an incredible personage; his accomplishments seemed almost beyond human ability. Yet there was one other man as remarkable as Monk Thurman — a man whom neither Le Blanc nor Marmosa had ever seen.