‘Who is she?’ Purvis asked.
‘Her name’s Anita Jackson,’ Burns said. ‘I managed to get one of the tenants of the house to talk about her. He says her morals are no better than they should be: whatever that may mean. She works at a steak joint on Western Street. Want me to do anything about her?’
‘Not yet,’ Purvis said. ‘Stick to Baird. If he sees her again we might put a tail on her. Don’t let Baird out of your sight. I have an idea things will start moving in a day or so.’
‘Yeah,’ Burns said, yawning. ‘Maybe sooner. I’l get over to his place. Tel Ainsworth not to be late. I want some sleep tonight.’
‘You’ve got al tomorrow to sleep,’ Purvis said heartlessly. ‘There’re more important things to think about.’
‘Don’t let me keep you out of your bed,’ Burns said sarcastical y, and hung up.
IV
Adam Gillis went over to the window and looked down into the street. He was utterly bored now with the girl on the bed. It had been a mistake to have brought her up to his room. Her appearance had been deceptive. She was a common little beast, he thought, and not particularly clean. Her awful voice jarred on his nerves, and her perfume was simply hell.
He watched a taxi coming along the street, wondering how best to get rid of her without causing a scene. The only thing in her favour was she hadn’t asked for money, but it was obvious by the way she was making herself comfortable she expected to stay the night.
The taxi pulled up outside his apartment house, and a girl got out.