Carrying nothing but a big sackful of heroin and a few hundred dollars, Wulff had grabbed a hitch on the outskirts of Los Angeles and was now heading toward Chicago. With plans, of course, to ascertain that his former partner Williams was alive before he took the last and biggest risk.
It was a hell of a situation but Wulff had one comfort. It was coming toward a conclusion now. He could feel it. Win or lose; all the chips were riding on Calabrese.
If he could kill this one, he thought, he could break the trade. And if he could not, then the answer was that he had never been big enough to do it, no man could do it, it could not be beaten, it was insanity to think that one man no matter how skilled, angry, lucky could make a dent-
-But, oh Jesus, had he tried.
