Duffy nodded. “Sure,” he took his wallet out and counted out five one-hundred bills, then tossed them on the table. “I’ve been keeping them for you.”
Morgan’s face was quite blank. He looked hard at the five bills, then he put his hands behind him, and raised himself slightly on his toes. “That came as a surprise,” he said, “I thought you were taking me for a ride.”
Duffy said, “That’s scent money; buy your nance a present.”
Morgan stiffened. “You watch your mouth,” he said in a thick voice.
“Let’s skip this, and get down to things. I’ve been wanting a talk with you for some time. When you sent me out on that phoney photo stunt of yours, I fell right into trouble, and I’ve been that way ever since. I’m getting to like it, and I’m seeing quite a bit of dough hanging to it. You play ball with me now, and you going to get into something that’s going to make your ears flap. Let’s get this straight. You wanted to put the screws on Edwin English, through his daughter, ain’t that the way it goes?”
Morgan stared at him for several minutes, his eyes expressionless, then he said, “Suppose it was?”
“If I’d turned in those photos of Cattley and the girl together, you could have cracked down on English. You could have warned him off your rackets, and he would have had to like it.”
Morgan wandered over to a chair and sat down, but he didn’t say anything.
“You know Murray Gleason?”
A flicker of surprise went over Morgan’s face. “Yeah, I know him.”