Duffy drained his glass, and immediately filled up again. “We were set to pull out. I went down to the bank to get the book out. When I got back, I found the joint in pieces and Olga dead. Some rat had stuck a knife in her. I must have been crazy. Instead of grabbing the ’phone and reporting it right away, I ran round in circles. Then a couple of cops moved in. They had the story pat. I’d killed Olga for her roll. They even found the dough on me. One of ’em palmed it, put his hand in my pocket and seemed surprised to find it clinging to his hand.”
Sam stared. “Why the frame? They had you sewed up tight enough without that.”
Duffy shrugged. “You telling me? The sweet part of the set-up was they intended to iron me out. I could see them getting set for it. Resisting arrest, closing the case, and slapping the murder rap on a corpse. Save the State plenty. It was nice planning, but they were slow on it. One cop shot the other, and I ducked out as the patrol wagon arrived.”
Sam fidgeted with his glass. “You’re it,” he said.
“Annabel knocked her off.” Duffy sat on the edge of the cable, he held his glass a little on one side, so that the liquor slopped slightly on the carpet. “They thought they’d get the list without paying. Well, they won’t. It’s going to be just too bad for them.”
“You better skip while the going’s good. You can’t stand up against this outfit. It’s too big for you.”
Duffy said evenly, “I’m finishing this. They’ve had all the fun up to now. Olga said I’d never get anywhere with those rats till I took a gun, and by God, she’s right.”
Sam said, “You liked that Jane, didn’t you?”
Duffy’s mouth set in a thin line. He kept his eyes on the floor. “I was getting used to her,” he said at last. “She had all the bad breaks.”
“I still say skip. You can’t buck the cops, as well as Morgan. They’re too big for you.”