The Fifth Face

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THREE men were gathered in a garish apartment that had an appearance of past glory. Gold-braided curtains were frayed at the edges; mahogany chairs were scratched and battered. Even the fancy wallpaper looked ready to peel itself.

As for the men, they had a shabby touch. They were playing cards around a table, and each had a stack of bills along with his chips. But they were harboring their cash, and the sharp looks that they exchanged marked them as a trio of leeches, each intent to bleed the others.

Three big-shots who hadn't made the grade. The term defined the trio to perfection. All were men of evil ambitions, but with balked careers. They had been in the money once, but never to the extent they wanted.

The man at the left was Grease Rickel. His nickname, Grease, was a shortened term for Grease-ball. His fattish face was oily, ugly, and his slicked hair, black like his eyes, merely added to his unlovely appearance.

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