The jeweled statue of the sphinx sank to the bottom of the lake, still clutched in the now-dead hand of its owner.
Two mobsters sat in a rowboat on the surface.
“Trig, you idiot. You were supposed to secure the loot, then whack him,” said Frankie Cincinnati.
“Careful what words you’re throwing around,” replied Trigger-finger Joe. “Maybe you’d like to go down after him?” he threatened, shifting his pistol slightly in his lap.
“You’re going to tell Big Man what happened. I’m not taking the heat for this,” said Cincinnati.
“Shut up, and take us in,” said Joe. “I hate being on the water.”
“Our next hit’s in the desert. Guaranteed,” Cincinnati confirmed.
“Let’s hope it ends better than this one,” said Joe.