Ritz reception. Yet he was chief of the Lovo gang's gunmen and personally was the most daring and resourceful gunman Tony had ever encountered.
"Sit down, Mike," said Tony. "I've got a little job for you."
Mike obeyed, carefully easing his pants over his knees so as not to spoil their razor-like creases. Then he lighted an imported, cork-tipped cigarette with an ornate silver and mother-of-pearl lighter, and looked up expectantly.
"Do you know any of the men in the North Side mob?" demanded Tony.
"A few—by sight," answered Rinaldo, cautiously; his eyes narrowed with suspicion at the unusual question.
"I want one of 'em. And you're to get him for me."
"I don't think I quite get you, chief."
"I want one of Schemer Bruno's men—the higher up in the gang he is, the better I'll like it—brought here to me. I don't care how you do it just so he's alive when you get him here. I want to find out some details about how that mob operates."
"But, good God, chief, none of them would talk."
