The man drew a piece of paper from his pocket. Dan read the address on it and put it in his own pocket.
"Who are they?" he asked pointing to the bodies.
The man was calm now.
"Dat's a' Rocky Callahan," he said, "an'a da leetle wan he's a Joe Baker. I was a' gon' ta tell you. I was a' gon' ta—how you say—walk out on a' dem."
"Rocky Callahan from Detroit!" Dan said in surprise. "You mean the fat feller."
"Dat's a'right."
"Sucker," Gatti chuckled.
"Yeah," Dan said wryly. "But what started the target practice?"
"He pulled a rod on us," Gatti said.
"Who?"