She was wearing a nigger-brown silk dress, tight across her firm breasts and her flat hips.
“Why Cattley?” she said.
He put his hat down on the table. “This is most unprofessional, but I'm dying for a drink.”
She shook her head. “Nothing doing.” She was very emphatic. “Say your piece and get going.”
“My, my,” he said, “you babes get tougher every day.”
She moved impatiently.
“Okay,” Duffy said hastily. “I'm looking for Cattley.”
“Why should I know where he is?”
“Why, you're his girl friend, ain't you?”
She shook her head. “I haven't seen him for months.”
“He thought enough of you to have your name and address in his pocket-book.”
She shrugged. “Lots of men have girls' names in their pocket-books. It doesn't amount to anything.”
Duffy thought she was quite right. “Well, well,” he said, “I guess I've come out of my way.”
She went to the door and opened it. “I won't keep you,” she said.
Outside, Duffy heard a car drive up. “You got visitors.”
He saw a startled look come into her eyes, but she said, “Then you'd better go.”
The buzzer rang loudly. She started a little.
Duffy said, “Can I go out the back way? I'm feeling I might run into trouble.”
She stood hesitating, then she said, “Wait here.” Her voice implored him. The buzzer went again, long and insistently.
Duffy said, “You want me to stay?”
“Yes—I don't know who it is.”
She went out of the room, leaving the door open. Duffy glanced round, saw another door and went over and opened it. He found himself in a small kitchen. He pushed the door to, and stood looking into the sitting-room, through the small opening.
He heard her at the front door; then he heard her say, “Why, hello, Max.”
“You alone?” the hoarse Voice that spoke made Duffy stiffen. It was familiar. First, he thought it was Joe, but then he knew it wasn't quite like Joe's voice. He'd heard it before.
She said, “Yes... what is it?”
Duffy heard footsteps in the hall and he heard the front door close. “What do you want?” her voice was nervy and breathless.
A broad-shouldered man, wearing a black slouched hat, walked into the sitting-room. Duffy had him at once. It was the man who had stolen the camera.
Duffy clenched his fists. Just the bird he was looking for.
Olga came in and stood by the table. Her face was white and a muscle in her throat fluttered.
“But, Max...”
The man glanced round the room suspiciously, then looked at her. His hard eyes raked her from head to foot. “I ain't seen you for a long time,” he said. “You're looking swell.” There was no animation in his voice. He sounded as if he were reciting.
She tried to smile, but her lips were frozen. She managed to say, “That's nice of you.”
He sat himself on the edge of the table and looked at his hands. “You know Cattley's been knocked off?” he said.
She put her hand to her throat. “No... no, I didn't know that,” she said.
Max raised his head a little and stared at the kitchen door. Duffy stiffened. Then Max said, “You were sweet on that guy at one time, huh?”
She shook her head. “He meant nothing to me.”
“So?”
“We went around together, but that's all.”
“You went around together?” He pushed his hat over his eyes. He wouldn't look at her.
“That's right... but why... why are you asking me?”
“Just curious.” With the flat of his hand he rubbed the short hairs on his nape. “Did he ever tell you things?”
Duffy could see what a panic she was in. “He didn't tell me anything... he didn't tell me anything....”
Max got off the table and went over to the mantelpiece. He examined the photos and fingered the small ivory elephants there. He seemed utterly bored. Then he shrugged. “I thought maybe he had talked to you,” he said indifferently. He put his hand in the inside of his coat and took out a short silk cord. It was dark red in colour. He dangled it in his fingers.
Olga watched him like a rabbit would watch a snake.
He said, “This is a pretty thing, ain't it?”
She said, “What is it?”
“This? Hell, I don't know. I found it.” He continued to swing it in his hand.
She said, “Did you?”
“I guess I'll scram.” He wandered to the door.
“But... but don't you want—-?”
“I'll scram,” he said, pausing at the door. “I thought maybe you'd be interested to hear Cattley's washed up. I see you ain't.”
Her relief was obvious. “Of course, I'm sorry,” she said, “but I haven't seen him for so long....”
“That's all right,” he said. “I liked seeing you.” The flat tone of his voice made the whole thing sound like a badly acted play. He stood on one side at the door and she went ahead to open the front door. When she passed him, he tossed the silk cord over her head with the rapidity of a snake striking, and twisted it round her neck. His knee came up in the small of her back and he threw all his weight on to the cord.
Duffy slipped out of the kitchen like a shadow, and hit Max on his ear with a roundhouse swing. Max, being only on one leg, went over like a felled tree. Olga went on her hands and knees, making a sort of honking sound in her throat.
Max rolled over twice until the wall brought him up, then he dizzily clawed inside his coat for a gun. Duffy whipped up a hall chair and smashed it down on Max. The wall took most of the force, and the back of the chair snapped. Max kicked out at Duffy with a long leg, and his boot caught Duffy on the shin. Duffy dropped on one knee, his face twisted, and then Max hit him on the side of the head. The blow had no weight behind it, as Max was lying on his shoulder, but it upset Duffy's balance and he went over.
Max again went for his gun and this time he got it out, but Duffy lashed out with his foot and caught Max under the chin. The gun went off with a violent noise. The bullet hit the ceiling, bringing a shower of plaster down on the floor. Max dropped the gun and flopped on his face.
Swearing wildly, Duffy grabbed hold of the gun and scrambled to his feet. He backed away from Max, but the big tough seemed right out. Cautiously, Duffy went over to Olga, who was going blue in the face. He jerked the silk cord loose and helped her to her feet. Her breath still rattled in her throat. He pushed her into the sitting-room.
“Okay, baby,” he said, “you're all right now.”
He dropped her into an arm-chair. The slamming of the front door brought him out of the sitting-room with an oath. Max had vanished. Outside, he heard a car start up, and by the time he had got to the front door he just caught a glimpse of a tail light vanishing round the bend of the road. He banged the front door to, and went back into the sitting-room. Olga was sitting up feeling her throat. She was crying a little.