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