Doing somebody in, especially all close and personal like that, always got his blood going. He’d give some bimbo the schtupping of her life later. Now to finish up with the body. It was always “the body” after he was done. He had orders to make this one disappear, which was why he’d made Swiss cheese outta the belly. Kept the gasses from building up and bringing it to the surface like a balloon. Maybe he’d over-done it a little, but a wink was as good as a nod to a blind horse, eh? Kneeling, he pulled the body forward so it flopped over his shoulder and carried it around to the driver side, laying it on the seat in a sitting position. More blood on his coat. Well, that’s what he’d worn it for, wasn’t it? He popped the parking brake and gave the Ford a good shove from the back to get it going. He followed it, watched it roll. It veered to the right a little and went into the water a few yards short of the end, but that was close enough. The jalopy sank fast and, though he waited to be sure, he didn’t see anything bubble up from it. Ben Siegel removed his bloody rain coat, tossed it into the Hudson wrapped around the incriminating Colt, and found the back-up car waiting in the warehouse. Just like Charlie said. Time for a little companionship of the female variety.
22
Drawing Dead