“I am — but not until after Thursday. Wait until that’s past then you can dig up a new gorilla. I’ll give Marty the tip to scram. He’s in bad right now!”
“Lance Bolero is O.K.?”
“Sure thing. He’ll be on the job, too. No chances Thursday night. No questions, either! Keep this mum — that’s your specialty!”
Dip grinned. He watched Flash Donegan get up from his chair and go to the window. This time the inspection was satisfactory. There had been no motion of the shades. Both windows were locked.
Dip arose and stretched himself. He stared at Flash a moment; then seeing that there were no further instructions, he gruffly announced that he was leaving.
“You know where to get me, Flash,” he said. “Leave it all to me, boy. This guy Vincent will be soft pickings for me, if he starts any trouble.”
DIP was on his way to the entry as he spoke. His head was turned back over his shoulder. Reaching his destination, he swung directly toward the spot where his hat and coat were hanging. Because of this, he failed to notice that the door was closing.
That fact would have surprised Dip Riker. For the door had been shut and latched from the inside by Dip himself. But the wolfish-faced gunman did not see the door in motion, nor did Flash Donegan, who was standing back in the room.
Hat and coat on, Dip opened the door. Flash was beside him now. Dip gave a knowing nod, and a whispered comment, as he stepped into the hall.
“Leave it to me, Flash,” he said. “I’ll take care—”