“The lights of the giant tanker moored there couldn’t compete with the 11 P.M. skyline of New York. The city was like some humpbacked starship that had put down among the stink and squalor. But Hawker didn’t spend much time gazing at the scenery. His eyes were glued to the three-story warehouse building that Detective Lieutenant Callis had fingered as the Mafioso stronghold. As Callis had put it, “More bodies have disappeared out those windows into the Hudson River than most undertakers handle i...n a year. The men you see coming in and out that front door are nothing but scum. Some of them are drug addicts and kill to finance their habit. But most of them just have bugs in their brains. They like to kill. It’s how they get their kicks. Hell, the regular Mafia disowned them—that’s how sick these dudes are. But they aren’t too sick for Fister Corporation. It says something about Blake Fister’s methods, doesn’t it?” Callis had paused for a moment, reflecting. He said, “Every now and again, we’ll bust two or three of them.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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