Duffy did sums, then he looked up. “This little book is worth five hundred grand to a cool million, if they all pay.”
Olga nodded. “When I was with Cattley and he was working it, they mostly did pay,” she said.
Duffy grinned. “It's easy to make money, it you know how,” he said, getting to his feet. “Well, we'll see what Morgan's got to say.”
She slid off the table. “What are you doing with the books?” she asked.
“You shall have one and I'll have the other.” He gave her the copy. “Be careful with that.”
She held the book in her hand for a moment, looking at him very hard, then she smiled and put the book in his hand.
“What's this?”
She said, “I hoped you would do that. I just wanted to see if you trusted me. It's screwy to keep this where it could be lifted. Keep it.”
He said, “Well, I'll be goddamned.” But she looked so pleased that he took the book and put it with the other in his inside pocket.
She said, “You're not going to Morgan alone. I'm coming with you.”
He thought for a moment, then he nodded. “Oke, but you stay outside in the bus. We'll plant the lists at my bank on the way down.”
She ran into the bedroom to change. Duffy called to her. “I'll get Morgan's address from the Tribune. They'll be bound to know it.”
While he 'phoned, he vaguely heard her in the bathroom, and when he had got the address from the reporter's room, he wandered in. She was standing under the cold shower, holding her face up to the tingling pin-points of water. Her eyes were closed, and she held her breasts cupped in her hands.
Duffy leant forward and turned the wheel on hard. The cold water struck her fiercely, and she ducked away, gasping. Duffy grabbed a towel and wrapped her in it.
“Get busy,” he said, “we ain't got all day.”
She mopped her face, then stepped out of the bath. “Try it,” she said, “it's nice.”
Duffy shook his head. “Later,” he said. “I've got the money itch.”
She took oft the rubber cap that protected her hair and threw it at him. The drops of water splashed his face. Duffy aimed a smack at her, then he jerked her to him and kissed her.
He thought, “We're behaving like a couple of kids.”
She said, looking up at him, “Will you always be kind to me?”
He gripped her arms suddenly, hurting her. “Let's go,” he said, “there's work to be done.” And he left her, standing quite still, holding the towel round her, with a little bewildered look in her eyes.
CHAPTER X
DUFFY LEFT THE BUICK at the kerb and climbed the five flat steps to the front door. Morgan's house was in a big way. Duffy was quite surprised. He expected something good, but this was a lot better than good.
The front door was a plate-glass affair, plastered with wrought iron. The bell had to be reached for and pulled down, like the plumbing in an old-fashioned toilet.
Duffy called back to Olga, who was sitting in the car, “Some joint.” He self-consciously jerked the bell-pull hard.
Clive opened the door.
Duffy said, “Tell your Queen I want to see him.”
Clive threw up his hands and backed away from the door. He said in a shrill voice, “You get out...” Duffy pushed the door wide open, but he stayed where he was. He said in a level voice, “Get going or I'll start on you.”
Clive slid his hand inside his coat, and Duffy took a quick step forward and smacked Clive across the face.
The little guy said from the head of the stairs, “Don't hit him again. He'll be all right.”
Clive took his hand away from his coat and backed farther away. A high whinnying sound was coming from his mouth. Duffy said, “Why don't you take this bum away?”
The little guy came down the stairs. He wore his hat pulled low down. Duffy couldn't imagine him without that hat.
Duffy said, “Where's Morgan?”
The little guy was very cautious, he did not get too close to Duffy. He said with a thin smile, “You surprised him.”
Duffy said, “I don't care about that. I came to see Morgan.”
The little guy turned his head to speak to Clive. “You heard him?” he said. “He came to see Morgan.”
Duffy reached forward and grabbed the little guy by the coat-front. His eyes were like granite. “Cut this circus stuff of yours out.”
The little guy pushed an automatic hard into Duffy's vest. “Don't get tough, Mister,” he said.
Duffy took his hand away, and stepped back a little. He said, “Put that rod up and use your head.”
The little guy said to Clive, “Tell Morgan.”
Duffy stood there watching the little guy thoughtfully.
The little guy said hopefully, “You ain't going to start trouble, are you ?”
Duffy shook his head. “Your daffodil went for her gun,” he said. “I wouldn't stand for a thing like that.”
The little guy giggled. “You'd like Clive once you got to know him,” he said.
Duffy still stood motionless. “Suppose you put that heater away,” he said evenly. “This ain't the time for pop-guns.”
The little guy shoved the gun into his shoulder-holster. “I get nervous sometimes,” he said, waving his hands apologetically.
A door at the end of the hall opened and Morgan came out. He called, “Come in here.”
Duffy walked the length of the hall slowly. Then he entered the room. Morgan was standing just inside. Across the room, Joe leant against the wall, chasing holes in his teeth with a wooden pick.
Duffy nodded at Morgan.
Joe said, “Why, for the love of Mike, here's the pip back again.”
Morgan half raised his hand, stopping Joe. He said, “Have you brought the photos after all, Mr. Duffy?”
Duffy said, “Clear your thugs out, I want to talk to you.”
“Shall I pat him around?” Joe asked. “He likes it, and can he take it?”
Morgan said, “Wait outside.”
Joe shrugged, but he went out, passing close to Duffy. As he passed, he pushed his flat face into Duffy's and grinned. “Nice boy, ain't you?” he said.
Duffy didn't move. “Your breath's bad,” was all he said.
Joe shut the door behind him, then Duffy walked over to a big arm-chair and sat down. He didn't remove his hat. Morgan leant against the overmantel and waited.
“We're due for a talk, ain't we?” Duffy said.