Joe le Blanc stared shrewdly at the man who had spoken so plainly. He had intended to lead up slowly to the idea that he had in mind; but now he decided that direct procedure was the best policy.
“Listen, Steve,” he said, “you and I can do a lot for each other. Savvy?”
The other man laughed.
“I might be able to do a lot for you, Joe. It’s a question how much you could do for me.”
“I can do plenty, Steve.”
“What, for instance?”
“Well, I can tip you off to a bit of interesting information for a starter. Did you ever hear of Monk Thurman?”
The question produced another laugh from the stocky individual.
“Did I ever hear of Monk Thurman!” he exclaimed. “What’s this, a game of ‘Ask Me Another’? Next you’ll be wanting to know if I ever heard of George Washington.”
Joe le Blanc indulged in a grim smile.
“All right,” he said. “Of course you’ve heard of Monk Thurman. But did you ever meet him?”
“Yes.”
“How often?”
“Several times.”
“Does he know you?”
“I don’t think so.”
“Good.” Joe le Blanc’s statement was emphatic. “Steve Cronin knows Monk Thurman. Monk Thurman doesn’t know Steve Cronin.”
“All right,” replied the other man. “Monk Thurman doesn’t know me. But Monk Thurman’s in New York. How does that concern us?”
“Monk Thurman is in Chicago!” answered Le Blanc.
“What of it?” retorted Cronin. “He doesn’t mean anything here. I’m in with the Chicago big shots. I wouldn’t give a plugged nickel for all the gangs in New York.”
“No?” questioned Le Blanc. “Well, Nick Savoli would give a lot of real dough just to have Monk Thurman on his pay roll. What do you think of that?”
CRONIN stared sharply at the other man. Joe le Blanc smiled. His words had created the impression that he had desired. He knew that Steve Cronin’s interest was now aroused.
He waited quietly, anticipating an exclamation of surprise from Cronin, and he was not disappointed.
“Savoli wants Thurman?” cried Cronin. “What does the big shot know about Monk Thurman? How does that guy figure in Chicago?
“Why, I heard that he was finding things pretty tough in New York — that he was in wrong all around!”
“Well, he’s in right here,” retorted Joe le Blanc. “When I say that Nick Savoli wants him, I mean that Mike Borrango wants him, and that amounts to about the same thing.”
This new statement did not please Steve Cronin. There was an anxious expression on the dark man’s face, and he looked at Le Blanc as though demanding further details.
“Here’s the low-down, Steve,” said the proprietor of the Gray Mill. “There was a fracas at Frank Marmosa’s, last night.”
“I heard about it,” said Cronin. “Somebody plugged Eddie Heeny, while he was in the restaurant. They say that Schultz and Spirak were mixed up in it.
“But what has that got to do with Monk Thurman?”
“Just this.” Joe le Blanc leaned across the table and spoke emphatically. “Heeny was killed in the restaurant. But the real blow-off was in the gambling joint. Schultz and Spirak tried to stick up the place.”
“No!” There was incredulity in Cronin’s voice. “Where were the Homicide Twins? I thought they protected Marmosa.”
“Where were they? Outside, following a blind lead. Chasing the guy that plugged Heeny.
“Larrigan’s men were in the joint, and they had us covered. But Monk Thurman was there, too. Listen, Steve, you missed the greatest gun play of your life.
“Monk crippled both those boys like they were a couple of Boy Scouts. He was laying against the bar like he was asleep, and he just put those two false alarms out of commission in about five seconds!”
“Monk Thurman did that? I can’t believe it, Joe.”
“Why not? He’s a killer, isn’t he?”
“Yes, but he doesn’t work that way. He fights with a mob. Shoots at close range. This marksmanship stuff is news to me.”
“I saw it, Steve.”
“He’s playing a new game then. But how does that tie him up with the big shot?”
Joe le Blanc laughed.
“Wake up, Steve,” he said. “Marmosa pays coin to Savoli, doesn’t he?”
“Of course.”
“Well, he called up Mike Borrango last night, and told him all about the battle, when Mike came to collect the cut.”
“Did he introduce Thurman to Borrango?”
“No. Monk was gone.”
“Oh!” There was a note of relief in Cronin’s interjection. “So Borrango hasn’t got hold of Thurman, yet.”
“Not yet, Steve. That’s why I’m wising you up. Monk Thurman is a killer de luxe. He did a better job last night than Genara and Anelmo could have done together.
“He’s the kind of a torpedo that both Savoli and Borrango can use.
STEVE CRONIN sat for a moment in careful thought. He reached to the table, poured himself a drink from a bottle, and then turned to Joe le Blanc.
“Thanks for the tip-off, Joe,” he said. “I get your drift exactly. You know what I’ve been doing here. I came in as a stranger. I got with Savoli. I’ve moved up, right along. I’m one of his best men right now.”
“That’s right, Steve. I’m a friend of yours. I want to see you stay where you are — or get further.”
“O.K., Joe. Well, I’m getting farther. I’m going out on a real job to-morrow night. When I pull that one, I’ll be worth plenty dough to Savoli!”
Le Blanc did not reply, but he raised his eyebrows in a questioning manner. Cronin observed him; and smiled slightly.
“Can’t tell you what it is, Joe,” he said. “I’m leaving Savoli’s some time in the evening. The alibi is all fixed. I’ll let you in on this much of it — I’m taking Guisto’s place.”
“I get you, Steve. He got his the other night, didn’t he?”
“Yeah — “
“Say, you’re with Machine-gun McGinnis, now, aren’t you? I suppose he will be on to-morrow night’s job.”
Steve Cronin snapped his fingers.
“Enough said, Joe,” was his reply. “Forget it, now. What concerns you is this: after to-morrow night, I’m going to mean something here in Chicago. I’ll have the jump on the rest of the boys. I don’t want any competition.”
“Such as — “
“Such as Monk Thurman. That’s why I’m glad you tipped me off. I heard that Monk was through in New York. The West Side gang was out to get him. Well, he’s made a mistake if he’s come to Chicago.”
“I don’t know about that, Steve. Savoli wants him, that’s a good start for him.”
“Well, I hope Savoli don’t find him. That gives me an idea, Joe. Suppose, before Savoli or Borrango find Monk Thurman, Schultz and Spirak get ahold of him. Where will Monk Thurman be then?”
“Out in a ditch, full of lead.”
“Correct. Then he won’t be any use to Savoli.”
“I get you, Steve.”
“Right, Joe. If you locate Monk, just pass the word along to Larrigan’s gang. Then it will be curtains for this tough gorilla from New York.”
Joe le Blanc nodded his head as he looked shrewdly toward his companion. He knew that he could profit greatly by aligning himself with Nick Savoli’s henchmen. He had chosen Steve Cronin as the first one to approach, chiefly because Cronin was advancing rapidly in the employ of the big shot.
STEVE CRONIN had come to Chicago a few months before. He was wanted in New York, and he kept away from the East. Under the protection of Nick Savoli, he had developed into a notorious gunman.
Cronin was famed for his nerve. He had displayed it often in the past, when working in his own interests. Now, as Savoli’s man, he had reached a high place in Chicago gangdom. It was rumored that he was slated to become Nick Savoli’s personal bodyguard.