“How did you do in Las Vegas?”

Skip’s head jerked up. He fixed his gaze on Big Tom. “Hey,” he said.

“That’s right. Big Tom knows all about it.”

“Well, I’ll be damned. Cook me for crowbait,” said Skip incredulously.

“It’s this way, Skip. You and Eddie are a couple of inexperienced young punks. You’ve got hold of something here, maybe. Maybe not. If it’s real and there are possibilities in it you’re going to find yourselves with a wildcat’s tail in your mitt.”

“Now let’s get this all straight,” Skip said between his teeth. “You’ve brought in this old gazoo to run things?”

“Now don’t speak disrespectfully of Big Tom,” Willy advised. “He’s a man with a great reputation. Earned it hisself, I might add.”

Skip was staring evilly at Willy. “I oughta bust you in the snoot. Tipping my plans to some broken-down has-been. What is it, really? You figuring on a cut for yourself?”

“Don’t get excited.”

Skip was full of a cold rage. He went on to describe in detail just what he should do to Willy, and what Willy could do with Big Tom. The two older men listened for a short while in silence; Willy in a warning stillness and Big Tom biting his lips. Then Big Tom said, “This isn’t getting us anywhere.”

“You’d better listen to us,” Willy warned. Skip went on with the bitter tirade, and Big Tom stood up on his chair and all at once there was a gun in his hand. It was a shining and well-kept-looking Luger, not new but quite businesslike. Big Tom walked over to Skip, and Skip’s words died in his throat.

“It’s like this, kid.” Big Tom whipped the gun against Skip’s face, not edgewise but cupped flat in his hand. The skin burst in a few places and Skip spun sidewise, catching himself at the rim of the bed. He felt as if the bones of his jaw and of his face in front of his ear had snapped to splinters. He sucked a breath in agony. He saw Big Tom through a whipping red haze. “Now that wasn’t anything,” Big Tom said, “but just a tap. I can do better if I have to, lots better. I like bouncing punks around. If you weren’t Willy’s kin I’d show you how I like to do it.”

Skip pushed erect and touched his face with a shaking hand, not sure there was anything but pulp there. His head still rang from the blow, the blow that hadn’t looked like anything when he’d seen it coming. It occurred to him that this man called Big Tom had a freakish strength and power in his hands.