Carmella Commands
don’t mean anything to you, you better wise up on your job.
“Now do we see Nicolo quick, or do we not-quick? I want to know quick, because there’s a pay station phone across the street, and if I gotta use it I want to use it quick. Get me? Quick!”
The dazed sergeant lurched to his feet.
“F’r the love of Pete, kid, where’d you get your line of politics?” he asked. “Sure you can see the boy. I think you’re lying, but you’re doing it damn’ well.”
He escorted the two to the detention room, and brought in Nicolo. The boy came gruffly and sullenly, looking down. His mother tried to embrace him, but he shook her off, and took refuge behind the sergeant.
“Oh, my Nicolo!” his mother cried.
“Lay ofl' that stuff, for God’s sake,” growled the boy.
“Better watch your step, Nicky,” said Carmella. “You may need your mother yet, you know, you rat! Mike’s out of town for the week.”
Nicolo almost leaped toward her.
“The hell he is! The hell you say!”
All through the hours he had been planning that Mike should “fix things” for him. He winced, and Carmella saw her advantage.
“Mike’s skipped. You ain’t pinched for his job. He knows what you’re pinched for. That’s why he skipped. He didn’t want to be mixed up with a yel-
[222]
