Murder struck first in Hotel Duarte, where Johnny Killain ruled the roost.
Hereâs Killain, smooth as a ripsaw and gentle as a jackhammer, the happiest avalanche youâll ever meet, who spends his quiet moments riding herd on the hoods and hopheads, the hard guys and devilish dolls of New Yorkâs night sight, just a knifeâs thrown from Times Square.
Troubleâs no stranger to Killain; when an out-of-town mob started making corpses Johnnyâs room, he began to get annoyed.
Then the boys tagged him for the big fall, and there was only one thing to doâfind the brain and shake his molars loose!
So Killain came to racket-ruled Jefferson, and the boys were there to welcome himâwith clubs, knives, guns, and enough hired muscle to carry off Grantâs Tomb.
When Killain kept coming, the boys turned mean.
They finally forced Killain to run ⌠but they forgot to get out of his way!