Joe thought as Don, Billy and he waited in the shadows outside the hospital. All his carefully prepared plans down the drain of Hymie’s rotten luck. “Look, Joe!” Joe followed Don’s finger. He tensed. Even at this distance he could see the sergeant step from the police car and enter the lighted area of the hospital casualty department’s door. “Is he...?” Don started to ask. “That, mate,” Joe said harshly, forgetting that Don’s concern was for their companion, “is the bastard I want done!” Billy shivered. “Not tonight, Joe. Christ – Hymie’s...” “Hymie’s a fuckin’ Jew an’ can take care of ’imself.” Joe edged an inch closer to the huge gates guarding the hospital precincts. “’Ey, ’is car’s leavin’...” He wanted to shout so great was the joy inside him then. “Ah, Joe – it’s too dangerous,”
