“What the hell are you doin' here?” he said, crowding up to the bar. “Two ryes and ginger,” he said to Hank.
“I wanted to see you,” I said, “so I looked in on the off-chance.”
Hank put the rye in front of us. He beamed at Ackie. “You all right, mister?” he asked.
Ackie leant forward and patted Hank's arm. “Me? I feel fine, couldn't be better.”
It looked like these two knew each other, so I tried again.
“That guy who was play in on the table over there... who was he?”
Hank stopped laughing. His little eyes shifted like quicksilver. “I tell you I don't know him,” he said.
Ackie looked at me, then he looked at Hank. Ackie was a smart guy. He saw the set-up without being told. “Spill it, Hank... this guy's a pal of mine,” he said.
“I tell you I don't know.” Hank was getting angry. “I can't waste all my time with you gents... I gotta get on with my work.” He walked to the far end of the bar and began polishing glasses down there.
Ackie looked after him thoughtfully and poured himself another rye. “What's it all about?” he asked.
I shrugged. “Maybe it's nothing. I was pushing some balls around an' some guy offers to play me. I turned him down, an' while he was showin' off I spotted a gun in his pocket. Then he asked if my name was Mason, took a hard gander at me and beat it. I was just wondering who he was. This bar bozo knows who he was, but won't say.”
Ackie frowned. “What's this fella like?”
“A tall, thin bird, with a hanging lip and cold, hard eyes. He looked a dope, but I guess he was tough all right.”
Ackie's eyes narrowed. “.This guy know how to handle a cue?”
“Sure, he's the hottest thing I've seen.”
“That's Earl Katz,” Ackie said. “Well! Well!”
I shook my head. “That's a new one on me.”
“Yeah, you wouldn't know him. He's a bad guy all right. One of Lu Spencer's gunmen.”
I put my glass on the bar with a sharp little click. “Lu Spencer?” I said.
Ackie nodded. “Yeah... looks to me like they're watchin' you already.”
“What makes Hank get the jitters about a dope like that?” I asked.
“Katz a dope?” Ackie wagged his bullet head. “You're crazy. That guy's as deadly as a rattlesnake. Don't go gettin' ideas about him. Why, Hank and the rest of us are scared sick of him.”
I took another poke at the rye. “Well, I don't mind telling you,” I said quietly, “that guy ain't goin' to make me nervous.”
Ackie shrugged. “You wait till you know him,” he said.
I glanced round the room, but the place was still empty except for Hank, who was keeping away from us. I lowered my voice. “I had a little adventure last night. A dame dropped in and pinched some dough off me.”
Ackie looked interested. “You mean she came in and took your roll or somethin'?”
“I was havin' a shower and she got in, knocked off a nice slice of my rent and skipped without me seein' her. A guy who lives opposite me saw her go. I'm tyin' her up to this business, an' I wondered if you might know who she was.”
Ackie looked incredulous. “Why the hell should I know?”
“Can you fit in a dame that's blonde and dresses in black? Wears a big felt hat and looks like a real hot mamma?”
Ackie shook his head. “Why should you tie her up to the Vessi business?” he asked.
I wasn't going to tell him that, but just as I was getting set to air off my imagination he got it. Ackie had a lot of brain under his hat. “Jeeze! That's a howl,” he said, smacking his thigh and giving one of his grunting laughs. “You got paid, huh? They slipped you the ten grand already, an' someone pinches it.” He leant against the counter and hooted.
When he'd got through with his fun, he mopped his eyes with his sleeve and grinned at me maliciously. “Gee! That's tough,” he said. “So a blonde hotcha got away with your dough.”
I said “Yeah,” and gave myself another drink. “Suppose you cut out the sympathy and bend your brains on this. Can't you give me a lead on the blonde?”
Ackie shook his head. “What do you take me for? Think I know all the blondes in town?”
I said slowly, “It wouldn't be Vessi's moll, would it?”
Ackie looked suddenly uncomfortable. “Listen, Nick,” he said, “I like you, but I've got to keep out of this... do you understand? You go ahead if you want a funeral on your hands, but you've gotta keep me out of it.”
“All right, all right,” I said, “Forget it. I'll look into this on my own.”
Ackie nodded. “You're the sorta guy who might crack this without gettin' hurt.”
A nice line in comfort this guy had got, I thought. I looked at my watch. It was getting on for lunchtime. “Okay, Mo,” I said, “I'll be seeing you.” I left him giving himself another rye.
I stood on the kerb thinking. It was a theory of mine to take the fight always to the other guy. I was not quite sure if I was going to be right this time. Maybe I'd start something that I couldn't finish. I didn't know. Then I thought I might as well go ahead and see what happened, so I signalled a taxi and told the driver to take me to the Hoffman Building quick.
CHAPTER FOUR
