“What are you worrying about?” Johnny asked, suddenly eyeing him suspiciously. “Scared she’ll think you’ve knocked me on the head and dropped me into the river?”
“Don’t be a fool!” O’Brien was secretly startled that Johnny should have got so near to the truth. “She’s fond of you and she deserves to hear direct from you.”
“Well, okay, I’ll call her from the airport.”
“I’m not having you hanging around the airport where a cop might spot you. You’ll write now or the deal’s off.”
Johnny shrugged.
“Okay, okay. Shall I tell her how your thug knocked me around? I can’t imagine she’ll be soft and sweet to you if she knew how you’ve been treating me.”
“Get on with it!” O’Brien snarled, and turned away, his face ugly with suppressed rage.
Johnny sat down and began to scrawl on a sheet of notepaper. He hummed under his breath, then he tossed the paper over to O’Brien. “There you are,” he said. “Now let’s get off this stinking boat.”
O’Brien picked up the note, read it, nodded and pointed to an envelope.
“Address it to her.”