The waiter who served him said, “A lady is coming?”
Duffy shook his head. “Get the room ready, have some rum, absinthe and dressing up there, and some Club sandwiches. I’m waiting downstairs for a friend.”
Sam came in the hall a little while after. They went up together in the lift. Neither of them said anything, but Sam kept wiping off his hands and face with a large handkerchief. They went into the room and Duffy shut the door.
Sam said, “You gone crazy?”
Duffy went over to the table and began to fix the drinks. “Has it broken yet?” he asked.
“They’re printing it now. I was down at the station when the report came in.” Sam was trying to be casual, but he was as jittery as a hophead.
Duffy poured the drinks from the shaker, and silently pushed one of the glasses over.
Sam said, “You’re in a hell of a spot.”
“Annabel’s playing this,” Duffy said savagely. “She’s pulling strings behind the scene.”
“What happened, for God’s sake?”