Despite his drunken condition, he realized that the Homicide Twins were quite as interested as himself when it came to considering the progress of Monk Thurman in Chicago.
“I hear he tried to make you boys look cheap,” said Cronin boldly.
“What’s that to you?” broke in Anelmo.
“Plenty,” said Steve Cronin. “He’s after my job. Trying to get in right with the big shot.”
There was a gleam of understanding in Tony Anelmo’s eye. He smiled in an ugly manner.
Both he and Genara had no love for Monk Thurman after last night’s proceedings. They would rather have seen Schultz and Spirak successful in their attempted holdup of Marmosa’s, than have another gunman do their work as Thurman had done.
“Ha,” said Anelmo softly. “So this man Monk is smart with you, too, eh? What has he done to you, Steve?”
“Nothing — yet. He’s just laying low. Ready to take my place if I slip a bit. I don’t like guys like him. They’re better off in New York, or — “
He did not complete the sentence, but the suggestion was understood. Anelmo glanced at Genara, and the other Sicilian understood his companion’s thought.
It would be a mistake to put Monk Thurman on the spot unless several persons were gunning for him. Steve Cronin’s expression of enmity was a stepping-stone to the action that the Homicide Twins craved.