She slid off the table. “What are you doing with the books?” she asked.
“You shall have one and I’ll have the other.” He gave her the copy. “Be careful with that.”
She held the book in her hand for a moment, looking at him very hard, then she smiled and put the book in his hand.
“What’s this?”
She said, “I hoped you would do that. I just wanted to see if you trusted me. It’s screwy to keep this where it could be lifted. Keep it.”
He said, “Well, I’ll be goddamned.” But she looked so pleased that he took the book and put it with the other in his inside pocket.
She said, “You’re not going to Morgan alone. I’m coming with you.”
He thought for a moment, then he nodded. “Oke, but you stay outside in the bus. We’ll plant the lists at my bank on the way down.”
She ran into the bedroom to change. Duffy called to her. “I’ll get Morgan’s address from the Tribune. They’ll be bound to know it.”
While he ’phoned, he vaguely heard her in the bathroom, and when he had got the address from the reporter’s room, he wandered in. She was standing under the cold shower, holding her face up to the tingling pin-points of water. Her eyes were closed, and she held her breasts cupped in her hands.