Morgan pulled out a gold watch and glanced at it. Duffy noticed that his hand shook a little. “It’s just after ten now,” he said, “you’ve got to get your equipment, and then go to the house. I think we could start now.”
Duffy got to his feet and pushed back the chair with his legs.
Morgan looked at him and said quietly, “I want to impress on you that this is important….”
Duffy raised his hand. “Skip it,” he said, “you don’t have to tell me all that again. A thousand bucks a picture is more than important to me.”
Morgan climbed out of his chair. “You can do quite a bit with money like that,” he said.
Duffy said, “You’re telling me.”
CHAPTER II
MORGAN HAD BEEN quite right. The whole set-up was easy. Duffy sat on his heels in the organ loft and felt hilariously at home. The small camera hung round his neck by a strap and the lighting of the room gave him no misgivings. He was going to make some money, he told himself. The organ loft was just as Morgan had described. It had an uninterrupted view of the room below and it was partly screened by heavy magenta curtains. Duffy had bolted himself in, and with the help of a pint of Scotch that he had brought with him, his nerves were calm and he could take a professional interest in his work.
He set the camera, using a big stop and a fairly fast shutter. Then he settled himself down to wait. Morgan had driven him to his apartment to collect his equipment and then had driven him to the back entrance to the loft. Morgan seemed to have had the whole thing planned carefully and it ran on oiled wheels. He had arranged to meet Duffy at the Princess bar that night, and Morgan was prepared to wait until he came.
Duffy looked down at the room with appreciation. It was a pretty swell joint, he told himself. The decoration was in magenta and cream. A cream pile carpet on the floor, and the large leather chairs, half cream and half magenta, gave the room a smart modern appearance. Duffy thought he’d like to have a place like this for his own.