“Wake up, Steve,” he said. “Marmosa pays coin to Savoli, doesn’t he?”
“Of course.”
“Well, he called up Mike Borrango last night, and told him all about the battle, when Mike came to collect the cut.”
“Did he introduce Thurman to Borrango?”
“No. Monk was gone.”
“Oh!” There was a note of relief in Cronin’s interjection. “So Borrango hasn’t got hold of Thurman, yet.”
“Not yet, Steve. That’s why I’m wising you up. Monk Thurman is a killer de luxe. He did a better job last night than Genara and Anelmo could have done together.
“He’s the kind of a torpedo that both Savoli and Borrango can use.
STEVE CRONIN sat for a moment in careful thought. He reached to the table, poured himself a drink from a bottle, and then turned to Joe le Blanc.
“Thanks for the tip-off, Joe,” he said. “I get your drift exactly. You know what I’ve been doing here. I came in as a stranger. I got with Savoli. I’ve moved up, right along. I’m one of his best men right now.”