RANSVESTIA

his lawyer, Franklin Curtis, who handled no other affairs but Buck's, exchanging pleasantries with the Chief of Police.

"Hamilton is in charge of this investigation," said Warren Dwyer, rising to his feet as Bud entered. Still no commitment on rank, thought Bud sourly.

Buck and his lawyer remained seated, bright black eyes taking in the detective's diffident approach and casual manner, trying to assess how much trouble Bud would make for them.

"You came to make a statement about Louie Bassaglia's murder?" asked Hamilton gruffly, as he sat on the end of Dwyer's desk.

Both mobster and lawyer were startled by the direct ques- tion, and it was Jack Buck who recovered first. "No, no, no," he laughed. “A confession?" He shook his head, laughter mak- ing his fat neck shiver.

"Mr. Buccarese," said Franklin Curtis icily. staring with wide-eyed amazement at Bud, "is trying to protect the good name of his youngest son, Domenico." The 'young' Buck was a real punk, thought Hamilton, trying not to let the scorn he felt seep out through his tired eyes. "Domenico Buccarese has un- fortunately been much maligned by several people to the Police Department."

"He has been arrested on five occasions," agreed Bud Ham- ilton.

"But never convicted," retorted Curtis.

But you and I know that you either paid off or had frightened away every witness to Young Buck's escapades, thought Bud. "So?" he shrugged at Curtis, knowing how much the fastidious lawyer disliked the slovenly approach.

"Late last night," said Curtis quietly, "Domenico and a few of his friends were invited to a poker game in the house of Luigi Basilio."

Hamilton didn't bother to correct the 'mouthpiece' to the police spelling of Louis Bassaglia. "Let me finish," Bud said with a sneer. “Young Buck” - he saw the old man frown at the use of the term "ran into an ambush that was clearly set for someone else; somebody, perhaps, engaged in criminal matters but which Young Buck is definitely not a party to."

--

"As the son of my client was leaving the house hurriedly," Curtis went on as if he had spoken Hamilton's words, "he was fired upon from the street. One of Domenico's companions, a Roberto Simone, pulled out a gun and fired back at these new assailants. By this time, Domenico had passed out. His compan- ions dragged him into a car and took him home immediately.' "Where is he now?" asked Bud curtly.

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