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“I’m gonna count till three,” Jesso said.

The heavy face turned slightly to the tall man, turning with a muscled twist of the neck as if it were going to creak any minute.

“You may hang up the clothes,” said the tall one. Jesso noticed the precision in the voice.

“One,” he said.

“Your conduct will be reported, at any rate.”

“Two.”

For the first time the squat man’s face showed interest. He had very light eyes and they traveled from Jesso’s feet to his head, as if the man were thinking of buying a side of beef.

“Ready or not,” said Jesso, looking at the light eyes. There was something else about them. The way the man’s nose was tilted, it looked as if his eyes and nostrils were all in one line. The long upper lip and thin mouth finished the picture. Just like a porker.

“Three,” Jesso said, and he dropped the clothes on the floor. The man in the chair didn’t move, but the tall one started to scramble. He was halfway across the room before Jesso knew how he got there, and then the man started to crouch. It wasn’t as if he were preparing to jump. It was more scientific. Jesso saw the shoulders hunch, the long arms held still, one hand held higher than the other. Those hands stayed open, the fingers stiff. Jesso pushed away from the wall and started to lean. The man’s face didn’t tell him a thing, just cold, light eyes and the lips bunched hard over the teeth. Jesso couldn’t figure why the man looked like murder or why dropping his lousy coats should bring on all this seriousness. But he wasn’t going to stop and argue. He got set for the rush, leg ready, because once Bean Pole was close enough he was going to get it where it hurts. When the man started to dip on his feet there was a snap. Somebody had snapped his fingers.

Bean Pole straightened up abruptly, turning to his buddy in the chair, who snapped his fingers once again and pointed to the clothes. Bean Pole was picking up the overcoats while Jesso was still standing there. Then he relaxed.

“Boy,” he said.

Nobody answered.

“Boy, that’s training,” he said.

Bean Pole was holding the coats neatly and the squat one in the chair looked as if he weren’t even there.

“And no whips, even,” Jesso said. “Just snapping the fingers. Tell me, Porker-” but then the door to Gluck’s office opened.

But it wasn’t Gluck and it wasn’t for Jesso.

“Mr. Johannes Kator,” said the butler, and the man in the chair and the tall one with the overcoats moved as one. The heels made sharp little clicks. Kator went first, then Bean Pole. Jesso and the tall one looked at each other, but it didn’t mean a thing. Jesso was thinking that he didn’t like Johannes Kator at all.

They came out again before ten minutes were up, which was just about as long as Jesso was willing to wait. So when the two men came out, Jesso walked through the open door before he was called. It was the kind of thing Gluck didn’t like.

But Gluck didn’t show it. When the door banged shut and Jesso walked across to the desk, Gluck turned to look and he was ready with his smile.

“Greetings, boy.” He took the dead cigar out of his mouth and tapped it. “Make yourself comfy for a sec, huh?” Gluck carried a folder to the room with the filing cabinets. He had a flat-footed walk, probably because of the weight he carried in his rear, and he made a grunt each time he took a step.

“You shoulda waited outside,” he said when he came back. Then he sat down and the jowls around his face made a quick shimmy.

“I waited. What in hell did you think I was doing out there besides waiting?”

“Now, Jack boy, let’s act like buddies. You and me-”

“Stop licking, willya, Gluck?”

“Jackie boy, what’s eating you?” Gluck put the dead cigar back in his mouth.

Jesso didn’t answer right away. He held it for a minute because it wouldn’t do to buck Gluck all the time. Not when it wasn’t important. Save your strength. Ignore the bastard, just the way Gluck knew how to ignore the things he didn’t like. It wasn’t easy to figure what he liked and what he didn’t like. Most of the time he took just about anything as long as he could call a man his buddy boy And then somewhere along the line buddy boy would get the shaft.

“You know why I’m boss and you aren’t, Jackie boy?”

The cigar came out and there was a friendly smile.

“No,” said Jesso. “You tell me, President.”

“I will,” and the cigar went back. “Because you don’t know people, boy. You never studied how to get along. Take me, for instance.”

“Don’t. Don’t put yourself out, Gluck. Just keep the secret.”

“Like right now, boy. You’re riled because I let you wait.”

Jesso lit a cigarette and tossed the match at the ash tray. He missed. “Now I know why you’re president and I’m the punk around here. You know everything. So now let’s talk about Vegas. You read the stuff and papers I brought back?”

“No.” Gluck smiled. “I didn’t have to. On account I read minds.” He sat back and gave Jesso a wink.

“You’re not doing so hot, Gluck, or else you’d be reading right now you should stop clowning around.” Jesso got up and ground his cigarette out. “Let me know when you’re ready for a cabinet meeting, Gluck, about Vegas and so forth. Or better yet, go out there yourself next time and don’t send a flunky.” He turned to the door and then he heard Gluck’s chair creak.

“I didn’t,” said Gluck.

Jesso stopped. That was another thing about Gluck. He always got the last word or the last lick. And once Jesso turned around there would be jolly old Gluck swishing his cigar around. Jesso turned and went back to the desk. He put his hands flat on the top and leaned.

“How did you mean that, President?” He sounded calm as hell. “You mean you didn’t send a flunky or you didn’t send me?”

“I didn’t send a flunky.” Suddenly Gluck wasn’t smiling any more. “So you shouldn’t have gone there, Jesso.”

Gluck hardly ever insulted a man in a straightforward way. And he hardly ever had a lit cigar in his mouth. Gluck was lighting it now and he never even blinked when the strong smoke crawled up around his face.

“Sit down, boy. I want to talk about Vegas.”

Jesso didn’t sit. He pushed himself away from the desk and thought about walking around to the other side, where Gluck was sitting, and starting out by grabbing lapels.

“This is important. It’s all about you, Jesso.”

Jesso sat.

“You goofed, Jesso.”

But this time Gluck made no impression. Jesso never goofed unless he knew about it.

“And I’m taking the time to explain it to you because in this new setup, you working for us, you can goof and not know it. You haven’t got the background to know it.”

Jesso kept still because Gluck was making sense.

“Who told you to go to Vegas, Jackie boy?”

“Nobody.”

“So you goofed.” Gluck sat back and started smiling.

Jesso sat back too. He took his time lighting a smoke, and this time he didn’t toss the match, but placed it in the tray as if he had nothing else on his mind.

“Gluck,” he said, “there’s two things I don’t like. One, I’m not working for you. I didn’t before you came, I’m not doing it now. Two, I don’t goof. We been after a tie-in with those two clubs in Vegas for a long time. Those two were outsiders and we wanted in, right? They been using our bonding company, the money outfit that started right here with dough I put out long before you ever came along. We put up their bond and they never came across with their percentage off the tables. Now, you know I want in, I know you want in. So what did you and your glorified bookie friends do about it? Nothing. So I did. I don’t horse around sending messages on business stationery. I go out there. We’re in for a cut on those clubs right now. What would have taken you another year I did in twenty-four hours. And that was yesterday.”

“Bravo,” said Gluck, but he wasn’t smiling. “And now I tell you why you goofed.” He squeeked his chair around and lit the dying butt again. “Let’s not talk about your taking off without my say-so. With you, I’ll overlook that. Let’s talk about what Limpy told me. Limpy called from Vegas and says you’re there seeing Buchanan and that sidekick of his. You’re seeing them about the percentage from their clubs. Next thing, you’re ready to leave town, the percentage guarantee all settled in your favor-and Buchanan in the hospital.”