“How?” queried Spider Carew eagerly. “Where? That’s somethin’ I ain’t been able to figure out!”
“You’ll learn tonight, Spider,” interposed Socks. “Just keep quiet while I’m talking.
“As I was saying, we pull the jobs perfect, and we know how to duck out after we’re through. Every time we work, we leave the sign of The Red Blot.”
“Why?”
“Because this stuff we’ve been doing is nothing compared with the big jobs ahead. Nothing! Savvy that? We want to make The Red Blot so important that we’ll have people scared right. We’ve done it. too!”
Socks delivered a smile which showed an ugly toothed mouth in a grotesque contortion.
“But last night,” suggested Spider, “you worked different. You ain’t told me why.”
“I’m getting there!” growled Socks. “Listen, and I’ll tell you! First of all, old Baruch’s hock shop wasn’t in the location we wanted. When you tipped us off that you heard Tweezers Darley talking to Hurley Brewster over the phone, we were all set to do something about it. But we figured a smooth, quiet job was the best. So we pulled it — long before Tweezers and Hurley were due to show up.
“Who do you think worked the main spring? Who do you think we’ve got in our outfit who would crack that safe in Baruch’s joint?”
“Moocher Gleetz,” returned Spider.
“Good guess,” rejoined Socks, with a broad grin. “Well, where is Moocher supposed to be right now?”
“Out in the sticks somewhere.”
“Sure. Well, if the safe had been found cracked, with The Red Blot to blame, the cops would have figured one of two guys — Moocher Gleetz or Tweezers Darley. We wanted them to figure Tweezers — and nobody else.
“So, after we pulled the job — when we knew that Tweezers would still be working on the safe, with Hurley alongside of him — we phoned a neat tip-off to Merton Hembroke. Told him what was up.
“He traveled there with a squad — down to Baruch’s. He found the front door open, like we’d left it for him. You know the rest. The bulls got Tweezer and Hurley. The Red Blot got the swag!”
SPIDER CAREW nodded; but his wan face expressed anxiety. Socks Mallory noted it and grunted.
“Getting cold feet, Spider?” he queried. “Turning yellow?”
“Don’t say that, Socks!” protested the stoop-shouldered gangster. “I ain’t yellow. But I got a right to be worried, ain’t I?”
“Well — what’s the worry?”
“These lays I’ve been givin’ you. Look at last night. Say — there’s plenty of gorillas who’d croak me if they knew I was in on the frame-up that wound up by Tweezers and Hurley takin’ the bump!”
“Nobody’s going to know. Those mugs are dead. They can’t talk.”
“They can’t,” greed Spider, “but there’s other guys that may. If I keep spyin’ for you—”
“That’s all over,” assured Socks. “We’re ready for the big works now. I’m using you tonight, Spider, and when the job is finished, you travel along with us. Say — we’ve been coming out of cover and getting back again, haven’t we? Well, after tonight, we’re going to stay under cover all the time, and do the jobs, too. What do you think of that?”
“It can’t be done!”
“It can’t, eh? Well, you’ll see it done — and you’ll be helping us. You’ll know plenty, Spider. You’ll know everything!”
Socks Mallory sat back and laughed. He seemed to enjoy his companion’s bewilderment.
“The Red Blot is some smart guy,” commented Spider, in a wondering tone. “Some mighty smart guy. That’s all I’ve got to say.”
“Here’s the lay for tonight,” declared Socks, in a businesslike tone. “You know where the old East Side Bank is. Well, there’s a sort of alley runs alongside of it. Straight across from the alley is an old building that’s not worth a nickel. You can get in there and watch from one of the windows — but be close to the door while you watch.
“We’re coming up the alley from the opposite direction. We’re going to smash into the bank. You’ll see us do it. Then we’ll come out again — the same way we went in — and that’s where you join up. Cut across the street and run with us. Stick with the mob — you’ll be O.K.”
“Say” — Spider’s tone was apprehensive — “you ain’t chancin’ that, are you, Socks? There’ll be an alarm when you bust in — there’ll be all kinds of cops down there—”
“Sure,” interposed Socks. “We’ll be making the getaway when they show up. They’ll be all around us — like a net — and that’s where we’ll fool them like we did before.”
“But there won’t be enough dough to make it worth while!”
“Listen, Spider,” interrupted Socks gruffly; “I know what I’m doing. First of all, the East Side Bank is an old crib. Easy to bust into, though we can’t dodge the alarms. All right. We’ve got the system for the getaway.
“Maybe somebody would have tried it before — except that the East Side Bank is a dump that don’t do big business. But right now, there’s a lot of dough piled in that joint — cash that nobody knows about except The Red Blot. It’s a set-up. Savvy?”
SPIDER nodded to show that he had a glimmer of understanding. As the secret spy of The Red Blot, he knew that the master crook must be a man of great resourcefulness.
“So you be there,” repeated Socks, “just like I told you. Scram when we scram. Then you’re one of us. Maybe” — a malicious smile came upon Mallory’s sullen lips — “maybe I’ll take you along with me tomorrow night when I pull the under-cover job. It’s going to be sweet.”
Rising from his chair, Socks leaned close to Spider’s ear and whispered harshly.
“Tomorrow night,” he said, “I’m going to bump off Tony Loretti!”
“The big guy that runs all the night clubs?” gasped Spider. “Say, Socks, he’s a big shot! If you go after him, there’ll be a mess!”
“Don’t I know it?” queried Socks. “Wasn’t Loretti’s racket my idea? Didn’t I run the Club Janeiro until he muscled in and chased me out?”
“That was my joint, and I’m going to get it back! The Red Blot wants me to do it — there’s a reason why. So Tony Loretti gets his tomorrow night.”
With this thrust, Socks laughed hoarsely and arose from his chair. He nudged Spider Carew with a short, friendly punch; then turned toward the door.
“I’m going back,” informed Socks. “I’ll be getting the mob ready. We’ll be at the East Side Bank inside of two hours. You know where to be. That’s all.”
The door closed upon Socks Mallory’s departing form. Spider Carew remained seated upon the cot. The pasty-faced ruffian’s countenance went through a series of curious contortions. Through Spider’s mind was passing all that Socks had said.
For weeks, Spider had been Socks Mallory’s listening post. All that happened in the bad lands; comments which concerned the activities of The Red Blot; other forms of useful news — these had been given to Socks by Spider whenever Socks paid his scheduled visits to Spider’s hideout.
Secure because of his unimportance, Spider had prowled through the underworld, peering into every hangout, overhearing what was going on. His duties had been amplified; he had been deputed to watch for opportunities that The Red Blot could use.
Thus, Spider Carew had been responsible for The Red Blot gaining the spoils from Timothy Baruch’s pawnshop safe. But now, Spider realized that he was no more than a trifling member in The Red Blot’s array of criminal talent.
A tip-off to Merton Hembroke! That had been nervy. A raid upon the East Side Bank! That would add to the prestige as well as the gain which The Red Blot had acquired.
Who was The Red Blot? Spider Carew did not know. He realized only that anyone who could govern such powerful mobsters as Socks Mallory and Moocher Gleetz must, indeed, be a supercrook.