“A while back, you offered me your outfit; I guess I can use it.”
Gilroy smoothed down his crinkly hair with his hand. “How?” he said. He was being very cautious.
Duffy leant forward and tapped the top of the table with his index finger. “I’d like to run Morgan out of town.”
Gilroy drew his breath in with a little hiss. “You’re nuts,” he said. “You gotta have dough for a job like that.”
Duffy took from his pocket the thin sheaf of notes and put it on the table. Then from his side coat pocket he took the ten grand he had lifted off Gus, and laid it on top of the other money. Gilroy watched him fascinated.
“Thirty-five grand enough?” Duffy asked.
Gilroy eased his collar with a thin black finger. “It helps,” he said slowly. “Where the hell did that come from?”
Duffy scooped up the money and put it back in his pocket. “It fell in my lap,” he said. “What say? You on?”
Gilroy sat down, poured out more drinks and lit a cigarette. “Let’s talk about it. What’s your idea?”
Duffy came over and sat down too. “I don’t know,” he said. “I just want to run this Morgan louse out, and his gang with him.”
Gilroy screwed up his eyes, then said, “Why?”
Duffy’s mouth set. “He thinks I can’t do it. He’s told me so. Well, I’m going to show the palooka he’s bucking the wrong horse.”
Gilroy nodded. “That’s the way it goes, is it?”
Duffy said, “Yeah, that’s it.”
“You won’t get far with the cops after you.”
“I’ve got that on the line. First thing tomorrow I’m getting protection.”
“Protection? Where do you get that from?”
“English.” Duffy leant back in the chair and took a long pull at his glass. “I’m blowing the whole works to that guy, and then watch him cover me up.”
Gilroy said, “You’ve got something there.”
Duffy said, “Sure, I have. Once I get protection, I’m a big shot. I can handle Morgan with protection and an outfit like yours.”
Gilroy said, “There’s me, there’s Shep, and there’s Schultz.”
“Okay. Suppose we all get together, after I’ve seen English.”
Gilroy nodded and stood up. “The boys get in around about one o’clock. If you can make it, we’ll be here then.”
He wandered to the door. “It ain’t going to be easy,” he said.
Duffy was watching him cross the room. “You ain’t gone into it,” he said. “It’s a cinch.”
Gilroy nodded and went out, pulling the door behind him.
Duffy got up and took off his coat. A knock came on the door and the thin man put his head round. “There’s a jane asking for you,” he said.
Duffy said, “Sure, and I suppose you told her I was right inside?”
The thin man said, “I told her I’d never heard of you, but it won’t shift her. She says, ‘Tell him it’s Alice’, like that. So I come back, and here I am.”
“Well, for God’s sake!” Duffy put on his coat. “Shoot her in quick.”
The thin man shrugged and went away. He came back with Alice at his heels. Duffy went over to her and took her hands. He said, “Why, honey…” then he stopped.
“Sam told me,” she said breathlessly. “I had to see you. What is all this, Bill? The papers say you killed that woman. It’s all in headlines.”
Duffy patted her arm. “Swell of you to come,” he said, leading her over to the bed. “Sit down, baby Take the weight off your feet.”
“What are you going to do?” she said. “Sam won’t tell me anything.”
Duffy grinned. “He’s told you too much as it is,” he said. “Listen, I didn’t kill Olga. It was a frame-up. Look baby, I’ve got dough.” He took the money from his pocket and tossed it in her lap.
She gave a little shiver and put her hands behind her. She just sat and stared at the money. “Take it away,” she said quickly.
Duffy stared at her. “Look,” he urged, “there’s thirty-five grand there. Did you ever see so much dough all at once?”
She said again in a tone that was just off-pitch, “Take it away.”
He picked up the money, a sulky look in his eyes. “If that’s the way you feel,” he said.
She put her hand on his arm. “Oh, Bill, you’re heading for trouble. Can’t you see? For your own sake, please, stop it.”
Duffy put the money carefully in his side pocket. “Now listen….” he began.
She interrupted him. “Money isn’t everything. You know it isn’t. Please, Bill, give yourself up. I know it’ll be all right. We’ll get someone to help you… get back to your job. Don’t go on with this business.”
Duffy raised his hand. She took one look at the hard glint in his eyes, and she sat away from him and began to cry. Duffy said, “I’m going through with this. I’ve been a little shot for years. I’ve been ‘Come here, you bastard’, ‘Do this, you heel’, ‘Get that, you punk’ all my goddam life. I’m through with it now. I’m bucking an outfit that’s supposed to be tough. Okay, I’m bucking ’em. I’m going to get an outfit twice as tough. Do you get that? Twice as tough! When I’ve got it, I’m going after Morgan and clear him off the street. I’m going to be the big shot around here from now on. How do you like that?”
Alice got to her feet. She said in an unsteady voice, “For God’s sake, keep Sam out of this.”
Duffy said, “I’m sorry, honey.” He felt a sudden tenderness for her. “I’m just shooting off my mouth. I’m just wild. A no-good out of work. Forget it, will you?”
She looked at him for several seconds. “You’re going through with this, I know,” she said. “You’re going to hurt people and you’re going to get hurt. Just to satisfy a little pride, a little ego in you. I can’t stop you. When you’re tired of this, come and see us. But stay away until you’ve got it out of your system. I’ve loved you a lot in the past; don’t make me hate you ever, will you?”
She patted his hand that rested on the table, then she walked out of the room. Duffy stood looking at the closed door. Then once more he took off his coat, went over and shot the bolt on the door, kicked off his shoes, and lay down on the bed. He reached up and turned off the light.
In the dark, he lay for a long time thinking. Then he said in a low voice, “Some nice hot place with plenty of yellow sand. With sky a real blue and just you and me.” He put out his hand to the empty pillow at his side and let his fingers lightly touch the cool linen.
The room felt suddenly cold and empty.
CHAPTER XIV
EDWIN ENGLISH WAS a tall, thick-set guy, with a round fleshy face, blue-white hair, and cold, fishy eyes. He sat at a big flat-top desk, a cigar burning slowly in his short white fingers, staring with blank eyes at Duffy.
He sat there for maybe twenty minutes listening to Duffy talk. He examined with no sign of interest the note-book Duffy threw on to the desk. Then he put the cigar back in his mouth and half-closed his eyes. He sat there for some time looking through Duffy at something hanging on the wall behind Duffy’s head.
Duffy was satisfied that he had told him everything, concisely and clearly. He thought he had made a swell job of it.
English took the cigar out of his mouth and tapped the top of the desk with a well-manicured finger-nail. “I could turn you up for a murder rap, it seems,” he said.
Duffy grinned mirthlessly. “Ain’t you working from the wrong angle?” he said. “You ain’t got to worry about me. It’s your daughter that you gotta concentrate on.”
English said, “I’m always concentrating on my daughter.”
Duffy nodded. “Sure, but not half as hard as you gotta work now. Look, suppose you let me handle this?”