“Let’s go, hophead,” she said.
Duffy said, “Sure.” He walked to the door and then stopped again. “I ain’t ever going to see this joint again,” he said.
Olga pushed past him into the corridor. “Who cares?” she asked, walking down the stairs.
Duffy looked after her, put one of the bags on the floor, shut the door, picked the bag up again, and followed her down.
CHAPTER XI
BACK AT OLGA’S villa, Duffy immediately put through a call to Annabel. While he was waiting for the connection, Olga began packing. Duffy could hear her moving about in the bedroom, overhead, singing in a husky monotone, but with plenty of swing with it.
The line connected with a little plop, and he said, “Hullo.”
Annabel’s breathless voice floated to his ear. “Who is it?” she asked.
Duffy said, “Your boy friend there? This is Duffy.”
“You’re going to make a bad move soon,” she said fiercely, “and I’m going to get a big laugh when you fall down.”