"Let's take a look." Naples moved off toward the hack, the boys at
his side. I followed. Naples looked in at Stenn. Stenn sat relaxed
and looked straight ahead. Naples turned away, nodded to one of his
helpers. The two moved off a few yards.
The other man, a short bullet-headed thug in a grease-spatted overcoat,
stood by the hack, staring in at Stenn. He took a heavy old-style
automatic from his coat pocket, pulled open the door. He aimed the gun
at Stenn's head and carefully squeezed the trigger.
The hammer clicked emptily.
"Ping," he said. He thrust the gun back in his pocket, kicked the door
shut and went over to join Naples.
"Okay, Rube," Naples called.