Favell stubbed out his cigarette, and helped himself to another from Dallas’s case.
‘Scandal more than trouble. The guy’s never grown up. His theme song’s wine, women and irate husbands. He specialises in married women, and a couple of husbands have taken shots at him in the past. One of them winged him. It was hushed up, but it didn’t teach him a lesson. He gets into brawls as easily as you get into bed. He drinks too much, and when he’s lit up, he gets tough. For a man of his age he should know better, but he just won’t learn.’
‘Who’s the blonde he’s going around with?’
‘Eve Gil is. Quite a dish, isn’t she? He took her out of the Follies about a month ago and set her up in an apartment on Roxburgh Avenue. It can’t last long. He’s a love ’em and leave ’em Joe, but from the look of her she’ll get what she can out of him before he gives her the gate.’
‘They cal ed on the Rajah of Chittabad about an hour ago,’ Dal as said thoughtful y. ‘From what you tell me they don’t sound like people a Rajah would entertain.’
Favell looked interested.
‘They’re not. Are you sure?’
‘Yeah; I saw them go to his suite.’
‘You still working on that jewel robbery?’
‘Sure; it’s Purvis’s main source of income.’