Half an hour later, he noticed that newcomers were entering the place, and he realized immediately that it was from these that the patrons of the gambling den would be gained. Marmosa had said nothing about the opening time of the gambling house, but Harry now conjectured that nine o’clock would be about the earliest.
A thin, sallow man entered the restaurant, and walked upstairs. Harry saw him disappear behind the pillar that obscured Marmosa’s office.
The man did not return immediately, so Harry again looked from the balcony, until he became conscious that some one was approaching his table, and he turned quickly to encounter Frank Marmosa and the sallow man who had arrived a short while before.
“Meet Joe le Blanc,” said Marmosa genially. “This is Harry Vincent, Joe.”
The sallow man shook hands with Harry, and sat beside him at the table.
“Vincent is a friend of Barutti,” explained Marmosa. “You know Barutti — you’ve met him in New York.”
Le Blanc nodded. Then Marmosa went away.
Harry studied Le Blanc, and recognized him as a silent type of man. The fellow had a sophisticated air that commanded instant attention.
“No one here yet,” said Le Blanc tersely, after he had made a quick survey of the crowd below.
HARRY watched the man’s eyes. Joe le Blanc had a faculty for looking everywhere, without moving his head. One observing him from below would not have realized that he had made a thorough inspection of the entire room beneath the balcony.
Four people entered the restaurant — two men in evening clothes, and two handsomely dressed women.
“That’s Glen Colliver,” said Le Blanc, in an undertone. “Big advertising man. Don’t know the fellow with him. Some guy from out of town, I guess.
“That blond dame’s been here before. Never saw the brunette before. The whole bunch is O.K. because Colliver is with them. Remember that bird. He pays plenty here.”
The party had scarcely seated itself before another group entered. Le Blanc recognized them immediately, and gave the information to Harry. Then came a few more persons who were identified by the sharp-eyed watcher.
Finally Colliver and his companions walked up the steps to the balcony. They disappeared behind the pillar that hid the entrance of the gambling den.
“They’ll be looked over through the door,” said Le Blanc. “Old Hawk-eye in there can tell any one that’s been here once. Here comes another pair upstairs. They’re O.K., too.”
Nothing was said for a few minutes. Then Harry decided to question Joe le Blanc.
“Don’t we let them know who is coming?” he asked. “I thought we would have to tell the fellow inside — “
“No, no,” replied Le Blanc. “These people don’t mean anything to us. We haven’t begun to work yet. Wait a while, until some of the gunmen begin to come in. That’s when we’ve got to keep a real look-out.”
“Why?”
“Listen close, Vincent,” said Joe le Blanc. “Marmosa tells me you don’t know anything about this racket.
“That’s all right. You’ve got to learn, and I’m here to tell you. There’s going to be a pile of dough spent in that place tonight. You savvy that, don’t you?”
“Of course.”
“Well, who gets the dough?”
“Frank Marmosa.”
“Sure, but he pays a lot of it out — to several places. There’s a lot of cuts, fixing the coppers, and everything else, but the real jack goes to the big shot.”
“Who’s the big shot?”
“Nick Savoli, of course. Don’t tell me you haven’t heard of him?”
HARRY had heard of Nick Savoli, the gangster whose fame had long since reached New York. He knew that Nick Savoli held the strings that governed the great majority of Chicago gangs.
“Nick will have his man here tonight,” went on Le Blanc. “Ready for the collection, after the dough has been taken in.”
“Does he ever come himself?”
“Who? Nick? I should say not! Sometimes he sends Mike Borrango, though. He’s the big enforcement man for Savoli. Keeps things moving when Nick’s out of town.
“But it’s most likely to be Al Vacchi. He comes here right along, and he brings a couple of gorillas with him.”
Le Blanc paused to lean against the rail of the balcony while he carefully inspected two men who had just entered. Then he added a further explanation.
“Here’s the way it goes,” he said. “Nick Savoli runs most everything in this town. He uses Mike Borrango as an enforcer. Al Vacchi is a fix-up man, who smoothes over troubles when they arise. That makes him a good man for collecting here, because he knows all of them, and keeps on good terms.
“Then there’s a bunch of men who have their own gangs, and their own territories. Most of them are in the booze racket. Mike Varona, Casey O’Rourke, Bingo McGurk, and others.
“They keep in with the big shot. They know enough not to battle among themselves.
“But there’s others — like Mike Larrigan — who have never come in line. Right now, there’s trouble between Larrigan and Varona.
“It’s guys like Larrigan’s gunmen that we watch out for here.
“Take Hymie Schultz, for instance. He works with Larrigan, but he’s independent, too. He wouldn’t think anything of coming in and sticking up a swell joint like this.
“If it meant trouble between Larrigan and the big shot, Larrigan would claim that Hymie was working on his own. Savvy?
“Then, every now and then, some small fry crop up and make trouble. That’s what we look out for. See — “
He pointed to the door of the restaurant. Two men entered; both were dressed in tuxedos, but they looked out of place in that garb. They kept close together, and seemed to cast a disdainful look at the diners. The newcomers moved up the stairs toward the balcony.
“John Genara and Tony Anelmo,” whispered Le Blanc. “They call them the Homicide Twins. Tough babies.
“They’re working for Marmosa tonight. They protect the joint. They’ll be inside the door, like they were gambling, but let any guy get tough — well, there’s nothing those fellows won’t do.”
The two men were at the top of the stairs. Genara glanced toward the table where Harry Vincent and Joe le Blanc were seated. Joe nodded his head in greeting, and Genara responded with an ugly scowl, which Le Blanc accepted as a response of friendship.
The two gunmen left the head of the stairs and went into the gambling den.
THEN came a general arrival of well-dressed persons who were evidently coming to play roulette.
“Look there!” Le Blanc’s exclamation was a low one. “Hymie Schultz and Four-gun Spirak. The little guy is Hymie — he’s the one I was telling you about.”
“Do they mean trouble?”
Le Blanc shrugged his shoulders.
“No telling until they get in,” he said. “We can’t keep them out without causing trouble. But with Genara and Anelmo there, I don’t think anything will happen.
“Just the same, it puts our friend Marmosa in a tough spot. The only connection he has with Nick Savoli is this: Marmosa pays cash to Savoli. He gets protection, all right, but the important part is that Marmosa has to pay, and Savoli doesn’t have to protect. Get that?
“If anybody makes trouble for Marmosa, it’s too bad for him. Savoli wouldn’t like it, of course, but he has his own worries, without bothering about Marmosa.”
Two men entered the restaurant while Le Blanc was speaking. Harry saw them as they came up the stairs to the balcony, and he recognized immediately that they were another pair of gangsters. Le Blanc noticed them as they approached.