“Hello?” he said in his tight voice.
He stood listening. Then he said, “You got a wrong number, buddy,” and hung up. He shook his head. “Some guy wanting this bird,” he jerked his thumb at Duffy. “Suppose you try him again, Joe?”
Clive took a step forward. “Why don't you burn him a little?” he demanded. “This is wasting time.”
The little guy looked at Joe. “Do you think you can shake him loose?” he said.
Joe grinned. “Yeah,” he said; “give me a little time. This pip thinks I am playing with him, don't you, bright boy.”
Duffy was getting light-headed, but he felt a little strength stealing into his legs. “Wait a minute,” he said with difficulty.
“Can't you believe what I tell you? Some bird stole the camera before I left the dame's house. I've just come back. I ain't got it on me, have I?”
The little guy put his hand on Joe's arm.
“Maybe he's telling it straight,” he said.
Joe shook his head. “That guy couldn't tell it straight to a priest,” he said.
The little guy looked at the clock on the mantelshelf. “Look at the time,” he said.
Clive said, “It's all talk... talk... talk... talk!”
The little guy patted him on his arm. “If he ain't got the camera, what can I do?”
Duffy sat up slowly and passed a hand over his face gently. Near by, on the arm of the couch, was an ashtray. One of those affairs with a leather spring that gripped the arm. It was quite a heavy thing. Duffy put his hand on it, then with one movement, he picked it off the arm of the couch and tossed it through the window. The glass shattered, making a high tinkling sound. Some of the glass fell in the street below.
The little guy said, “Clever, ain't he?”
Clive ran to the door. “Let's skip before the cops come up,” he said.
The little guy said, “Sure we'll go.” Then he looked at Puffy. “We'll be back, bright boy.”
He followed Clive out of the room.
Joe clouted Duffy on the side of the head. The blow knocked him off the couch on to the floor. “We'll get together by'n by,” he said, and went to the door hurriedly, then he paused, looking at Duffy lying there. He came back and kicked Duffy very hard in the ribs.
The little guy put his head round the door.
“Come on, Joe,” he said, “we gotta get out of this.”
Joe followed him from the room, shutting the door quietly behind him.
Duffy lay on the floor, his knees drawn up to his chin. After they had been gone some time, he began to sob a little.
CHAPTER V
A VOICE SAID, “What a guy!”
Duffy forced one swollen eyelid back and tried to see who it was. A blurred figure was standing over him. He thought it might be Joe again, so he shut his eye and lay still.
“Bill!”
That wasn't Joe, he thought; it sounded like McGuire. Duffy raised his head painfully. “I think you've come a little late,” he said with a faint groan.
McGuire said, “My Gawd!” and meant it. “What the hell have you been doing with yourself?”
Duffy turned a little to the wall.. He wasn't quite ready for any bright talk. “Gimme a break,” he said faintly.
McGuire was so upset and astonished, he just stood gaping at Duffy. Then he looked round the room, seeing the overturned furniture, the mess of the blood, and the blood-smears on the wall. “What's been going on round here? Jeeze! This looks as if a massacre came off not so long ago.”
Duffy said through his clenched teeth, “ME, I'm it.”
McGuire took another look at him, then hurried into the bathroom. He found a small bowl and a towel. He filled the bowl with tepid water, and came back to Duffy again.
“Come on, soldier,” he said. “Let's make you look a bit shipshape.”
“Suppose you go take a pill,” Duffy said with difficulty.
“Now come on.” McGuire put the bowl on the floor and dropped the towel into the water. He squeezed the towel and began wiping Duffy's face with awkward care. He was as tender as a woman to Duffy.
Duffy said suddenly, “Hi, you rat, be careful of my nose.”
McGuire said, “You don't call that a nose any more, do you?”
When he cleared the dried blood away, he took the bowl into the bathroom and changed the water. Deep down, a burning anger smouldered against those who had done this to Duffy. McGuire was one of those guys who made few friends, but when he had picked one, he stuck. He was, on the surface, casual and a great kidder, but he'd stick like a burr and fight once he had found a friend. Duffy and he had knocked along together on the Tribune for some little while. They had quarrelled, kidded and doubled-crossed each other, but let anyone else start anything then they'd side up together and beat hell out of the intruder.
He filled the bowl with water again and walked back to Duffy.
“For God's sake, you must be losing your grip or something,” Duffy mumbled from the couch.
“What now?”
“Listen, dimwit, instead of pulling this Flo Nightingale act, what the hell's wrong in giving me a drink?”
McGuire put the bowl down on the table. “You're right,” he said. “This business startled me.” He went over to the wagon and poured out two stiff Scotches. He was going to hold the glass to Duffy's mouth, but Duffy took the glass from him roughly. “For the love of Mike,” Duffy said, “don't you think I can help myself to Scotch?”
They both felt better after the drink. McGuire said, “Was that some woman you brought home who set about you like that?”
Duffy put his glass on the floor and sat up very slowly. He put his hands over his groin and his mouth twisted. McGuire watched him uneasily. “You all right?”
“Sure, I'm all right,” Duffy said. “I'm fine.”
“All right, tough guy, but you can take it easy for a moment. Here, lie back, will you?”
Duffy swung his feet over the side of the couch, then he stood up. As soon as his legs had to take his weight, he bent in half. He would have fallen forward if McGuire hadn't taken his arm.
“I'm getting soft, I guess,” Duffy said, sweat starting out on his face.
McGuire led him back to the couch and sat him down.
“Quit this stuff,” he said impatiently. “Lie down, or I'll smack your ears for you.”
Duffy sank back on the couch. He was glad to.
McGuire poured him out another Scotch, and after that he felt his strength coming back.
“Suppose you tell me what happened?”
“Sure. I ran into three toughs who pushed me around.”