“You’ve been here since nine o’clock, both of you,” he said, mentioning the time at which Cronin had first appeared in the cigar store. “Why don’t you go up to Marmosa’s place, and try the roulette wheels?”
“That would be great,” replied the girl.
“Those wheels are fixed,” objected Cronin. “But we can go up there and watch the suckers drop their dough.”
HE left the place with the girl, and they rode in a taxi to Marmosa’s restaurant. Steve Cronin was familiar with the gambling den; as a man in favor with Nick Savoli, he gained immediate entrance.
Kitty Boland had never been there before. She expressed a lively interest in the establishment, but Cronin responded only with grunts. He ordered drinks at the bar. The memory of his thwarted enterprise still annoyed him.
Cronin glanced sullenly about him. His gaze was finally directed toward the door, and there he spied a young man dressed in a tuxedo. It was Harry Vincent.
A dim recollection occurred to Cronin’s besotted mind. He stared at Harry as though he remembered him. Then he happened to see two men in another corner: John Genara and Tony Anelmo.
The sullenness of their expressions brought a feeling of comradeship to Steve Cronin. He knew the Homicide Twins by sight as well as by reputation. Leaving the bar he sidled across the room, and took his place beside them.
“Hello, John. Hello, Tony.”
“Hello,” grunted Anelmo. Genara made no response.