He Won't Need it Now

     Sam blew out a cloud of smoke. “Now Morgan, he's a cagey bird to nail. He's got some racket in connection with a chain of night-clubs. I'd say at a guess, he's a boss behind the scene, and he's controlling vice in a big way. Anyway, I can't get a proper line on him, except rumours. They know him down at headquarters, but they've never pinned anything to him yet. Still, they're always hoping. He's got plenty of dough, runs a big house, and has a tough mob working for him.”

     “If Morgan's got that sort of a background, I guess he'd want those pictures of that girl. It might give him enough pull to scare English off closing his joints.” Duffy was looking thoughtful.

     Sam nodded. “That's just it,” he said. “Morgan would be sitting very pretty if he could close English down.”

     “Cattley? Did you find out anything fresh about him?” Duffy asked.

     Sam shrugged. “There's not much you don't know about that rat,” he said, “you know what he did. Dope, women, and white slaving. Cattley's certainly been making plenty of dough these last months. No one's sure of where he got it. He's moved up a lot since we knew him. Does, or rather did, everything on a big scale. The cops can't get a line on him, but they watch him from time to time.”

     “Is he going to be missed?”

     Sam shrugged. “Not unless someone who knows him gets worried and blows to the police. That ain't likely.”

     Duffy brooded some more. “You done a swell job of work,” he said at last. “What I want to know, is where do I go from here?”

     Sam said, “I'd take it easy for a bit.”

     Duffy shook his head. “I got to get those pictures,” he said, “and I've got to get 'em fast.”

     Alice said, “Has Morgan got them, do you think?”

     “No. Morgan hasn't got them. It was Morgan's crowd who pushed me around. It looks to me that some other party has horned in and helped themselves. Just as long as Cattley remains in that vault, trouble will stay still. As soon as he pokes up his head, the balloon will go up.”

     “Don't you run a risk of being made an accessory after the fact or something?” Alice asked, her brow wrinkled.

     Duffy said, “I guess I've been in worse spots than accessory charges.”

     Sam got up and began to pile the plates in the kitchen. Alice went out to help him. Duffy sat in the arm-chair and brooded. His body was one dull ache, but he wouldn't let his mind dwell on it. There was a bitter angry feeling smoldering inside him. Furious with Morgan, revengeful against those three toughs, and determined to get those photos back, he thought of Annabel. Then he got up and went over to the telephone. He dialled a number, after consulting the book.

     He recognized her voice at once.

     “This is Duffy here,” he said.

     “Have you got them?” her voice was eager.

     “Listen, baby,” he said, speaking low and fast, “you don't know half what happened last night.”

     “What is it?”

     “For one thing Morgan ain't got those pictures. For another, he wants them mighty bad. When I got home last night, three birds were waiting for me and they beat me silly when I couldn't give them the camera.”

     She was silent for a moment. “But who has got it?” she said at last.

     “I don't know,” he had to admit it; “this is a line up against your Pa. Why the hell didn't you tell me who you were?”

     “Well, who am I?”

     “You're Edwin English's daughter.”

     “I prefer to say I am Annabel English.”

     He laughed. He couldn't help himself. “I've been looking up your record, baby, it ain't so hot.”

     “You think so?” She sounded very cool. “I thought you'd appreciate me.”

     “I think you ought to go very slow for a bit,” he said, .”you just lie low, and don't start anything. It wouldn't be a bad idea for you to get out of town for a little while.”

     “Oh no,” she was very definite, “I won't do that.”

     “Okay, but watch your step from now on.”

     “When am I seeing you?”

     He grinned, but he felt no mirth. “Sooner than you think,” he said quietly, and hung up.

CHAPTER VI

     IT TOOK DUFFY TWO impatient days to shake himself loose. Sam and Alice, their nerves frayed, were at last forced to give way to his insistence.

     In a new suit, his face still battered, his temper vile, Duffy walked into the street. Sam came along at his heels.

     “I feel,” said Sam, “that you're going to run into trouble so fast we ain't going to have any time to stick you together again.”

     Duffy was walking fast. “You don't know nothing,” he said shortly; “I feel fine, and I ain't going to find trouble.”

     Sam swung along at his side. “What's the hurry, for God's sake? You got a date with someone?”

     “No, but I got to get me some exercise. Come on, get going.”

     “You ain't said where you're going,” Sam said.

     “First I'm going back to my joint, then I'm going to find out something about Cattley.”

     “Why Cattley, for the love of mike?”

     “Just that; I don't know. Maybe, I've got a hunch. Cattley's at the bottom of this, and I want to find out quite a bit about him. I want to find out why he was rubbed out. When I find that out, I guess I'll be pretty close to his killer. Okay, when I find his killer, I'll find the camera.”