“No!” There was incredulity in Cronin’s voice. “Where were the Homicide Twins? I thought they protected Marmosa.”
“Where were they? Outside, following a blind lead. Chasing the guy that plugged Heeny.
“Larrigan’s men were in the joint, and they had us covered. But Monk Thurman was there, too. Listen, Steve, you missed the greatest gun play of your life.
“Monk crippled both those boys like they were a couple of Boy Scouts. He was laying against the bar like he was asleep, and he just put those two false alarms out of commission in about five seconds!”
“Monk Thurman did that? I can’t believe it, Joe.”
“Why not? He’s a killer, isn’t he?”
“Yes, but he doesn’t work that way. He fights with a mob. Shoots at close range. This marksmanship stuff is news to me.”
“I saw it, Steve.”
“He’s playing a new game then. But how does that tie him up with the big shot?”
Joe le Blanc laughed.