“And kept a hideout for the boys, didn’t he?”

“That’s right. But he must be over-”

“Never mind. What happened to him?”

“Christ, Jackie, I wouldn’t know.”

“Who would? Think, Paul.”

“He had a daughter. Cook’s the married name.”

“Here in New York?”

“I think so. At least, five years ago I remember-”

“O.K., Paul, thanks a million.”

Jesso hung up. He turned to Kator, who had lit a cigar and stood by the window watching Jesso.

“I need a phone book, Kator. Manhattan first.”

“To your left, in the drawer.” Kator rolled the cigar between his lips and watched Jesso.

There was a long string of Cooks, and Jesso felt disgusted before he started. Then the phone rang. “This is Murph. May I speak-“

“It’s me, Murph. So?”

“I checked around by phone, Jackie, and so far nothing. Nobody’s seen anything like that Snell guy around. And I meant to tell ya, Jackie, Gluck came down and the car wasn’t ready. So I tried to explain to him how you-“

“To hell with Gluck. What else?”

“I sent a few guys checking the flops and got some names for you. Names of guys what used to keep a hole in the wall for special guests.”

“Let’s have it.”

“Well, there’s that farmer Cook, out near Nyack.”

“You say Cook?”

“Yes, Jackie. He’s in New Orleans right now, due back in a week. Then there’s Murrow, Able-sometimes, anyway-another Cook, Jenowitch-“

“That’s enough. Stay at Gluck’s place and I’ll be right over.”

“O.K., Jackie, but I wanted to tell you, Gluck was sore when his car wasn’t-“

“Forget it. And wait for me.”

Jesso hung up. This job was going to be over so fast that Gluck was going to have sleepless nights thinking of bigger and better ways to get under Jesso’s skin.