“Sounds natural,” Malone said.
“Sure it does,” Manelli said. “But there was a foul-up someplace, because the win animal was disqualified and nobody heard about it until after a lot of payoffs were made. That costs money.” He stopped. “I mean it would cost money, if it happened,” he finished.
“Sure,” Malone said. “Certainly would.”
“And you tell me it’s not the FBI?” Manelli said.
“That’s right,” Malone said. “As a matter of fact, we’re investigating things like these confusions and inefficiencies all over.”
Manelli finished his drink in one long, amazed swallow. “Now, wait a minute,” he said. “Let’s say for a joke, like, for laughs, that I am some kind of a wheel in these things, in bookies and numbers boys and like that.”
“Let’s call it a syndicate,” Malone said. “Just for laughs.”
“Okay, then,” Manelli said, with a suspicious gaze at Malone. “Whatever you call it, a man like me today, he wouldn’t be some two-bit chiseler without brains. He would be a businessman, a smooth-operating smart businessman. Right?”
“Right,” Malone said. “And what I want to know is: how’s business?”
“You’re kidding?” Manelli said.