Tony Rome Page #6

in front of him!

I do it every night

in front of 300 men.

How's he any different?

Where in New York?

Queens. His father

owns a butcher shop.

My old lady

lives next door.

His real name

is Joe Furman.

It's all I can tell you.

You can tell me

why he beat you up.

I was a little girl

when I knew him back home.

I ran into him a few times

down here at the club.

He asked me out.

Well, I guess he expected

something different.

But you

wouldn't understand.

Oh, I might. Maybe he was trying

to get in the wrong ballpark.

That's her business.

Bust outta here, will you?

- Shut up.! He's a cop.!

- I'll shut up when I want to.

Shut up!

Oh, lose a few pounds and shut up!

You... Oh!

Oh! Oh, honey!

Oh, honey, I didn't mean it.

Oh, baby, please come here.

Come here! Come here.

I'm sorry.

I'm sorry!

Oh, sweetie,

I didn't mean it.

I didn't mean it.

Don't make me

do things like that.

I'm sorry. I'm sorry.

- I didn't mean it.

- You want the lights on or off?

Yeah, better off.

- Little Dave!

- Hi, Uncle Tony.

- Come on up here. How you feeling?

- Fine.

- That a boy. Hello, Rose.

- Hi, Tony.

Hey, tiger.

What do you say there?

How many times do I gotta tell you?

He don't talk.

- He don't talk.

- Yeah, I forgot about that.

- Dave's pretty mad at ya.

- I know.

He's out back,

and the beer's in the usual place.

Okay.

I'll catch you later.

- Good luck.

- Right.

How are ya?

- You missed a spot over there.

- Thanks.

I get the word

you're still mad at me.

What did you expect?

You and your Kosterman juice.

You got us all running around like errand boys,

checking on things you wouldn't explain.

Did you check on Oscar and Langley?

Yeah.

Yeah, I checked.

You didn't kill much.

Oscar was wanted

on a couple of assault raps.

Langley had three arrests

in New York.

- Released for lack of evidence.

- What kind of evidence?

The evidence that runs

out the back door.

He booked talent for stag parties

and sold jewelry on the side.

Ain't much of a loss.

You know,

your self-defense plea should hold.

But not on the case

ofTurpin.

You're our best bet

until we find out what really happened.

Why don't you drop it, Dave?

Turpin's worth no trouble at all.

Are you crazy? We find a dead body

in your office. We can't ignore it.

If it was a dead archbishop, I could understand

the fuss, but Turpin's a big fat zero.

Tony, you gonna tell me

what's going on?

- In time.

- Thanks.

Meantime, check on a guy

named Joe Furman, alias Nimmo.

Also on a guy named Catleg,

walks with a limp.

- Why?

- Because I think these two guys...

followed me

to Turpin's hotel.

And I think they later

caught up with him in my office.

If that's true, one of them is walking around

with a slug in him out ofTurpin's gun.

Okay, I'll check out

the names.

But, Tony, tell me...

what's going on?

Will you stop worrying?

I'd never leave you holding the greasy

end of the stick, now would I?

I don't know.

Would ya?

Rudy, I keep telling you

this vice president of yours...

wants us to finish

the top floor this week.

- That's what you said at the start, remember?

One floor a week.

- No, no.

- How many days did it rain this week?

- Two days. That's why...

Two. The only way

we're gonna finish this week...

is to go into Saturday

and Sunday, right?

- Well, I thought you said...

- Will you stop thinking and start listening?

Go ask the bookkeeper how much it'll cost to

keep all the men on overtime for the weekend.

- Huh? Go ahead. Go with him.

- Okay.

What do you want?

- I need a word with you.

- Well, hurry it up.

- Rita's gonna call for me in a couple minutes.

- Listen to me.

Two hours after I brought your little girl

home without the pin, Langley knew about it.

That means the tip had to come

from somebody in your family.

If you're gonna dig up a lot of dirt...

I just as soon you let

the whole thing drop.

I don't think the insurance company

would be that polite.

What's your wife's

maiden name?

That's none of

your damn business.

Look. Rita didn't do it

if that's what you're thinking.

If she wanted more money,

all she has to do is ask me for it.

Those jewels are worth about a half

million dollars, Mr. Kosterman.

- Even if she asked for that much?

- She'd get it.

- No questions?

- Good-bye, Rome.

Look out! Look out!

- Rudy.! Rudy.!

- It's all right. It's all right, Rita.

It's just my arm. That's all.

It's just my arm.

The bullet is out.

The bone isn't broken.

- There's nothing to worry about.

- Thank you.

- It's a superficial wound. He'll be fine.

- Thank God.

See, honey? I told you he was

too tough to die.

- When can I see him?

- They'll let you know soon enough.

Mrs. Kosterman,

what's your maiden name?

The desk would like to know in order to

fill out the surgical release forms.

It's Rita Neilson.

Are you sure he's all right?

Positively.

Whatever happened

to that fella Nimmo?

- Nimmo?

- Nimmo.

I don't know anybody

by that name.

Yes, you do, Rita.

He came to the house once.

We didn't like him.

Maybe that's it. You don't like him

well enough to remember him.

Can't you see she's upset?

Stop bothering her.

Don't be a hero, buster.

I checked your war record.

He went AWOL when they handed him

a rifle at basic training.

Hey, you

and your clients.

Well, you gotta admit

I bring you a lot of customers.

However, this one

is still alive.

You got a make

on the guy who shot him?

Yeah, Catleg. The guy I told you about

with the limp.

He was driving a 1967 gold Pontiac

four-door sedan.

- Here's the license number.

- We'll run it through Motor Vehicles.

- Rented or stolen is my guess.

- Lieutenant?

- Yeah.

- Here's the bullet.

- Get it to the crime lab.

- Yes, sir.

I think you'll find

when you get a make on that...

that it matches the one

they lifted out ofTurpin.

Look. Do I get told how

this ties in with Turpin?

I wish I knew.

Anything on Nimmo?

Nothing local,

under Nimmo orJoe Furman.

How 'bout you contact

the New York Police Department?

Have 'em check out

his father.

He runs a butcher shop

in Queens.

I figure if they write to each other,

we can get an address on him here in Miami...

whether it's Nimmo or Furman,

whatever name he uses.

And while you're at it,

check on Mrs. Kosterman.

- For what?

- If I knew for what, I wouldn't ask you.

All I found out about her is that

her maiden name is Rita Neilson...

and she used to work in a bar

at the Columbia Towers.

- Uh, Mr. Kosterman would like to see you.

- Thanks, Doc.

Oh, almost forgot. They called me

from the coroner's office.

- They wanna know who's gonna bury Turpin.

- They wanna know what?

Well, you and he

were partners once.

Wait a minute.

You try to hit me with a murder rap...

and now you expect me to pay for

the bum's funeral?

Well, I hear

you got lucky.

Yeah.

Thanks to you.

That's one push

I owe you.

The attempt on you sounds like

a contract, Mr. Kosterman.

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