June 6th, 9.45 a.m.
RAVEN SAT on the edge of his bed and looked round at the three men who stood or leant against the wall opposite him.
There was Lefty, Little Joe and Maltz. For eighteen months these three men had elected to follow Raven, and they had for this period experienced a very thin time. Raven didn’t excuse himself. He had just told them to be patient and they had believed him. He had never let them go hungry. Somehow, by dangerous raids, hold−ups and the like, they had managed to make a little money, but all the same they had all had a bad time.
Such was their faith in Raven, however, that they had not grumbled. It was now that he could tell them that their faith in him was justified.
He knew these three men for what they were. There was no spark of human feeling in any of them. They wanted money: not just money, but big money. They didn’t care how they got it, but they knew that none of them had the brains to make that money. They knew Raven could make it, so they had been contented to wait.
Raven looked round at them, and he gloried in his triumph. “Well,” he said, “I’ve sent for you guys because somethin’s happenin’. I told you it would, and it has.”
The three shifted a little and regarded him with blank, stony eyes. Three jaws moved rhythmically as they turned the chewing−gum in their mouths.
“When I first came to this burg I wanted to play ball with Mendetta. But the dirty rat said no. He was in the position to say no. I had to take it. You guys thought I’d get a break. You’ve stuck around for a long time waiting for that break. You haven’t bellyached. You’ve done what I’ve told youwell, by God, we’ve waited long enough. We’re takin’ over the burg.”
Still the three stood silent. They waited for facts.
“Mendetta had protection,” Raven said, stressing the past tense. “We couldn’t start anythin’ as long as he was alive. Now he’s deadso we move in.”
The three fidgeted.
“I’ve seen Grantham. He won’t be any trouble. In a day or so I’ll have my hands on some dough. We’re goin’ to organize this burg. We’re goin’ to milk it dry. We’ve got everythin’ just where we want it. I’m tellin’ you what to do, an’ you’ll do it. That way we’ll all be in the dough.”
Maltz, a little wop, with a heavy sneering mouth and bloodshot black eyes, straightened away from thewall. “You said you’d do it, boss,” he said, “and we knew you would. Why didn’t you get one of us to rub Mendetta?”
Raven shook his head. “Who said I killed him?” he asked quietly.
The three exchanged glances and grinned. They thought that was a good joke.
Raven got to his feet. “Stick around, fellas,” he said, “I gotta go an’ talk with Grantham. By tonight I’ll know how much dough’s comin’ to us.”
He went away, leaving them still standing in his bedroom.