Duffy shook his head. “You can come as you are,” he said. “I want to talk to you… come on.”
She giggled. “I love you when you get like that,” she said. “Let’s talk; I’ve got lots to tell you.” She waved her hand at Clive. “About him and Morgan. You’ll eat it up.
Clive drew his lips off his teeth, then he shot her. Duffy just caught the slight movement under the rug as the gun roared. The rug began to smoulder.
Duffy fired at Clive, but the big Colt kicked up and the bullet smacked against the wall two feet above Clive’s head. Moving with incredible rapidity, Shep flung himself on Clive.
Duffy walked cautiously over to Annabel, looked at her, then shoved his gun in his hip pocket and knelt down beside her. She lay on her back, one hand clenched tightly to her right side. She opened her eyes and looked at him, then she began to cry.
Duffy said, “Take it easy. You’ll be all right.”
He picked her up. Shep said, “Bring her here.” He had tossed Clive on to the floor. Clive lay flat. Shep had smacked him hard on the chin.
Duffy put her on the divan. He said urgently, “Get some water and dressing. She’s bleeding like hell.”
Shep went out of the room. Duffy could hear him pulling drawers open and hunting about in the next room. He took his pocket-knife and ripped away her clothes round the wound. “Hurry, damn you,” he shouted to Shep when he saw where she was shot.
Shep came back in a lumbering run. He had a handful of small towels and a jug of water. Duffy took them from him. “’Phone English, and tell him,” he said. “Get going, this is urgent.”
While he was fixing the wound, she opened her eyes again. She looked at him. She saw the sweat glistening on his face and she said, “Am I going to die?”
He couldn’t do anything to stop the bleeding. He said rather helplessly, “It’s the best way for you, I think.”
She said, “I think so, too,” and she began to cry again.
He tied a pad over the wound, but he knew it was useless. She said, “Give me a drink.”
He had to hold her head to give her the Scotch. She said, “I’m sorry about everything.”
Duffy’s face was very hard. “You little girls are always sorry when it’s too late.”
She said, “It was your fault that I killed your woman.”
Duffy said, “It’s best you should go like this.” He couldn’t bring himself to say anything else.
“No other man’s ever turned me down,” she said. “Remember I offered myself?”
“Yeah, I remember. I guessed you’d want to settle that score.”
“If you wrote down everything, I could sign it,” she said. “I’d like that.”
Duffy took a quick step to the writing-desk, found a pad and came back. She said, in a low voice, “You’ll be quick?”
Duffy said, “Sure. You killed Cattley, didn’t you?”
“Yes, Cattley was double-crossing Gleason, who was my husband. No one knew about that. Gleason was bad, but he was making money. I had to have that. I learnt that Cattley was taking half, so I pushed him down the lift shaft. He was a little man, it was quite easy. You came along and covered me on that. Then Max. You see, they all bothered me. I tried once just to see, but none of them were any good. So after that I didn’t want them again. Max was always pressing me. Then he got the photos, and asked me up to his flat to trade them in the usual way, so I went and I killed him too.”
Duffy wrote quickly. He gave her another drink. Shep came in and stood behind him. He said, “English is coming.” Duffy raised his hand for silence.
Annabel went on, “I hated you. When I went out to the Shann woman’s villa to find the book, I thought you’d both be out. I saw you drive the car away, and I thought she was with you. Then I went inside and she started getting excited, so I killed her too.”
Duffy said, “It got you nowhere, did it?”
She said, so faintly that Duffy had to lean forward, “I was so tired of… Murray… when you came… I… thought I could… put it… on you.”
Duffy scribbled quickly, put the pen in her hand. “Can you do it?” he said anxiously.
She said, “I… can’t… see.”
Duffy held her hand and put the nib on the paper. “Sign,” he said loudly and roughly. The pen slipped out of her fingers and her hand dropped out of his. He turned and looked at Shep. “Can you beat that?” he said savagely. “This confession lets me out, and I’m damned if she doesn’t die on me before she signs.”
Shep said, “That’s tough.”
Duffy stood up. “Look at her, Shep,” he said. “You ain’t likely to find a worse woman in the country.”
Shep shrugged. “What’s it matter, as long as she looks right?”
Duffy said impatiently, “Clive okay?”
Shep nodded. “He’ll be out for another hour.”
Duffy glanced at the clock. He saw it was quarter to six. He said, “Come on, we got a date. Let English fix this.”
Shep followed him out of the apartment and down the stairs. Duffy said when they got into the street, “Morgan’ll just hate me for this.”
Shep grinned as he climbed into the car. “Yeah,” he said. “Will they burn the nance?”
Duffy shrugged. “Maybe English’ll hush it all up. But you bet they’ll pin something on that nance to keep him busy.”
It was just after six when Duffy swung the Buick to the kerb outside the Belmont Plaza. “Come with me,” he said.
They walked into the busy lobby. Across the lounge he saw Schultz reading a newspaper. Schultz made no sign that he had seen him, but by the way he folded the paper and laid it down Duffy knew he had.
The little guy and Joe came in. Joe was looking mad, he scowled at Duffy. The little guy said, “You’re going to get into trouble one of these days.”
Duffy said, “Skip the talk. Let’s get down to business.” He walked into the bar. The little guy Followed him, leaving Joe in the lobby. Shep beamed at Joe, but said nothing.
The little guy said, when they got to the bar, “What you doing with Gilroy’s mob?”
Duffy stared at him coldly. “You’ll know before long,” he said. “Come on, let’s get this over, you stink.”
The little guy giggled. He put his hand inside his coat and took out an envelope. He opened it and drew out a sheaf of notes. Duffy watched him count them. Twenty-five grand. Then Duffy took the note-book out and they exchanged. The little guy said, “And the duplicate?” Duffy smiled. His eyes were like ice. “The State’s got that.”
The little guy shook his head sadly. “You shouldn’t have done that,” he said. “Morgan’s going to get mad when I tell him that.”
Duffy said deliberately, “Morgan can —— himself.”
The little guy giggled again. “I’ll tell him that too.” He put the note-book in his pocket. “Those notes are phoneys,” he said, as an afterthought.
Duffy took the envelope out of his pocket, examined one of the notes carefully. It looked all right to him. “You don’t say,” he said.
The little guy nodded cheerfully. “Sure, Morgan wouldn’t pay a punk like you in real dough.”
Duffy put the notes away. He had an idea.
The little guy said, “Well, for God’s sake, you’re taking it quietly, ain’t you?”
Duffy said, “Take my tip, scram.”
The little guy looked at him, then nodded. “You’ll see me again, of course,” he said apologetically.
Duffy said, “Before you think.”
He watched the little guy walk out, followed by Joe, then he beckoned to Shep and called for two ryes. Shep came over. “You got it?” he said.
Duffy slipped one of the notes out and gave it to him.
Shep glanced at it, beamed and said, “As easy as that, huh?”
Duffy pushed the glass over to him, drained his quickly and nodded at the barman. “One more,” he said.
Shep said, “You drink too quickly.”
�
��So long as I don’t drink too much, why should I worry?”
Shep frowned, then said, “It amounts to the same, don’t it?”
He gave Duffy back the note reluctantly. Duffy put it with the others. He said, “Let’s go.”
Gilroy and Schultz were sitting in the Buick waiting for them. When the Buick was rolling, Gilroy said, “No fuss?”
Duffy handed the notes over to him. “There they are,” he said.
Gilroy counted them and whistled. “This don’t seem natural,” he said.
Duffy stared out of the window. “Maybe, it ain’t.”
Gilroy examined the notes carefully, then he said, “Phoneys.”
Duffy nodded. “Yeah, he told me as much before he left.”
“So what?”
Duffy turned his face, so that he looked at Gilroy.
“I guess we’re going to frame Morgan with those. It’ll be worth twenty-five grand to clap him away. English’ll pay as much as that for the job.”
“How… frame?”
“We’ll go out to his place and plant that stuff tonight. There’s a nice little rap for making notes as big as these. Once we get those planted, then we tip English, and he does the rest.”
Gilroy said, “The dough would’ve been better.”
Duffy shrugged. “You can’t have everything,” he said.
Shep had been listening to the conversation. He turned his head. “Say, those notes sure made a sap of me. Why not put ’em on the street? We’d pass ’em okay.”
Duffy said, “No, that’s not the way to play it. You’ll get the dough all right, but it’ll take a little longer. When you get it, it’ll be safe.”
When they got back to the Bronx, Duffy ’phoned English. English said, “We’ve got Wessen.”
“How about Annabel?”
“Never mind about her. I’ve paid another five thousand dollars into your account. That should hold you for a bit.”
Duffy grinned to himself. “Listen, English,” he said. “Are you holding Clive Wessen on a murder rap?”
“Murder?” English seemed surprised. “No, he’s in for cocaine smuggling.”
Duffy grinned and winked over his shoulder at Gilroy.
“I bet that guy had his pockets full of the white stuff,” he said.
“The police found enough incriminating evidence to justify an arrest,” English said smoothly.
“I bet they did,” Duffy said. “And Annabel?”
There was a pause, then English said in a faintly hostile voice, “You know about that. My unfortunate daughter was killed by a hit-and-run motorist.”
“That’s too bad,” Duffy said. “I’ll be having some more work for you in a little while.” He hung up. “That bird’s cagey,” he said to Gilroy. “They framed Wessen, smothered Annabel’s murder. It’s a hit-and-run case.”
Gilroy shook his bullet head. “You gotta watch him.”
Duffy shrugged. “We’re playing on his side.” He went over and helped himself to a drink. “It’s nice to have a guy like that behind you.”
Gilroy nodded and left him. When he had gone, Duffy sat down and did some thinking. Then he got up and went over to the small bureau, unlocked the top drawer, took out the bundle of money he had left there, and looked at it. Then he went to the door and turned the key. He sat down at the table and counted the money carefully. He’d got thirty-four grand and some small notes. He counted on the table three piles of five thousand dollars. That left him nineteen thousand dollars. He split the nineteen grand into four parts. One went into his hip pocket, another in his side pocket, and the third in his trouser pocket. The fourth, three thousand dollars, he folded carefully and put in his shoe. He had to take his shoe off and put it on twice before it was comfortable.
He went over and unlocked the door, picked up the money on the table, and wandered into the bar.
Gilroy was talking to Schultz and Shep. They were drinking beer. They all looked up, a faintly expectant expression on their faces.
Duffy leant on the bar. “Here’s your split,” he said gently. He gave each man the money rolled in a tight ball. “Five grand,” he said. “Don’t count it now.”
Shep picked up his glass and poured the beer on the floor at his feet. “Gimme champagne,” he said to the barman. “I’m goin’ to launch myself.”
Schultz fingered his cut, then shoved it in his trouser pocket. He looked vacantly at Duffy, nodded, and went out.
Gilroy turned his head, watching him walk across the floor. “That guy’s mighty careful with his dough,” he said. “I wouldn’t say he’s tight. He’s careful.”
Duffy glanced at the clock. “I’m going to snatch myself a little sleep,” he said. “We’ll get going about eleven.”
Gilroy said, “Any dough hanging to this job?”
Duffy nodded. “Sure,” he said. “I want you boys to make money while you can.”
Shep took his short fat nose out of his glass. “That’s a hell of a way to talk,” he said.
Duffy grinned. “You expect to earn this dough, don’t you?” he said.
“Sure, but we won’t work that hard.”
Back in his room, Duffy rang Sam. He said, “Do you feel like doing me a favour?”
Sam said, “Aw, forget it, will you? Alice’s only a little dumb; she don’t know what it is to want things.”
Duffy’s mouth twisted. “You lay off Alice. She’s right. See? Alice is goddam right. If I’d got the sense of a louse, I’d be doing a job of work instead of trying to be a big shot. Well, I ain’t got the sense, and what’s more, I’m getting a kick out of this. What I want you to do is to keep your ear open down at headquarters. I want you to keep an eye on English. That bird’s been pulling too many fast ones to make me sleep easy. Will you do that, Sam?”
Sam seemed puzzled. “Sure,” he said. “I’ll do any little thing like that.”
Duffy said, “You’ll keep me in touch. If anything starts popping, gimme a buzz?”
Sam said, “Sure,” then he said, “You know what you’re doing?” He sounded worried.
Duffy said, “I’m bucking something that thinks it’s too big for me, but ain’t.” He added, “’Bye, soldier,” and dropped the receiver on its prong.
Outside, he could hear the rain beating down. He went over to the bed and lay flat, one leg hanging over the side. He scratched the side of his face gently with his nail. “I wonder…” he said to himself, then he heard someone walk past his door. He heard Gilroy say, “She don’t wear ’em. It saves time.” Shep said something in his tinny voice, but Duffy couldn’t hear.
In time, the sound of the rain lulled him.
CHAPTER XVI
SOMEWHERE A BIG clock chimed half past twelve as the Buick slid to the kerb. The rain drummed on the roof hard.
Shep said, “Heck! What a night!”
“You should worry, no one about,” Duffy said, rolling down the window and putting his head out. The rain touched him, cold and sharp. He looked up and down the deserted street, then he rolled up the window again, opened the door, and stepped out. Gilroy followed him.
“Fat, you stay in the car,” Gilroy said.
Shep nodded his tiny head. “Suits me,” he said. He pulled a Luger from his overcoat pocket and laid it across his knees.
Then Schultz got out. The three hurried across the pavement to a block of offices.
“Round the back,” Duffy said.
They walked on, turned a narrow alley, and then stopped. Just above their heads was the fire-escape. Gilroy put his back against the wall, folded his hands in front of him, and nodded at Schultz. Schultz put his foot in Gilroy’s cupped hands, and Gilroy hoisted him up. Schultz just touched the fire-escape with his fingers. He said, “Higher.”
Gilroy gave a little grunt, shifted his feet and raised Schultz a few inches. Schultz’s fingers curled on the iron rung, and then he put his weight on it. The fire-escape creaked and slowly came down.
Duffy went up first, then Gilroy, then Schul
tz. On the first landing, Duffy stood aside, whilst Schultz opened a window. He did it very easily. They all climbed into a dark corridor.
Duffy said, “It’s on the first floor.”
They walked quietly forward, Duffy a little ahead, the other two on either side of him, a few steps in the rear. Duffy held a powerful flash directed on the floor. He kept the beam down, but the reflection lit up the frosted panelled doors. At the end of the corridor Duffy read, “Morgan Navigation Trust Co.”
“Here,” he said.
Schultz examined the lock, bent over it, then stepped back. He said in a low voice, “Go ahead.”
Duffy pulled the Colt from his waist-band and gently opened the door. Then he walked in.
The office was big. Steel files lined the walls. There were three large flat-topped desks. Three typists’ desks, holding typewriters. The centre desk had a number of telephones.
Duffy said, “Morgan’s room is over there, I guess.”
He wandered over to a door at the far end of the office and went through. The room was smaller than the outer office, but it was more luxurious.
Duffy went round the desk and sat down. He tried the drawers, but they were all locked. He looked over at Gilroy. “I guess we won’t disturb anything. Morgan might tumble. I’ll just plant the notes and we’ll blow.”
Schultz said, “Maybe there’s a heap of dough in this joint.” He said it wistfully.
Duffy took the roll of counterfeit money from his pocket, spread them flat. He leant forward, picked up a framed calendar and took off the back. Then he put the notes in the calendar and replaced the back.
“You like that?” he said.
Gilroy nodded. “That’ll be difficult to find.”
“You’ll be surprised.” Duffy pulled the telephone towards him and dialled a number.
While the line buzzed, the three stayed motionless. Only Gilroy showed he was anxious. His big eyes rolled continuously.
The line connected. English said, “Who’s that?” He sounded sharp.
Duffy drawled into, the ’phone, “I’ve got Morgan sewed up,” he said. “If your boys make a call at his office early tomorrow, they can safely slap a charge on him.”
“Where are you?”
He Won't Need It Now Page 17
