Chapter Thirty-one
The hairs on the back of my neck stood up. I closed the door, turned and stared at the two heavies in my room. They were both wearing black pin-striped suits, with white shirts and fancy ties, and they both had dark blue, wide-brimmed fedora hats. One of them was wearing a dark-brown overcoat.
“Hoo-ha boys, well what you know. Say, this room’s getting busier than Grand Central station,” I said, trying to remain calm.
“Are you packin’ Dallas?” the gunman said.
I said nothing.
“Search him, Willy.”
Willy grabbed me, put his claw around my neck and began to pat me down with his other hand.
“Easy, Willy,” I said with a smile. “Long time, no see.”
He ignored me. “Clean, Tommy,” Willy said and threw him my wallet.
“Okay, Dallas, we’re all going downstairs nice and easy
