Duffy said, “You keep out of this, Sam. I’m going out to the Bronx on Maddiston. Ross’s got a hide-out there. If things begin to break wrong, you can find me there. I’ll wait until the heat cools off, then I’ll start something.”
Sam said, “I got to go. I’m on my way to the Villa. All the boys are down there.”
Duffy went over to him. “Tell Alice to keep her pants on. I guess this’s bound to happen sometime. I wasn’t cut out for a soft life.”
Sam moved to the door. “If you want some jack, I can stake you.”
Duffy grinned. “You’d be surprised just how much dough’s coming my way.”
They didn’t shake hands, they just looked at each other. Sam gave a worried smile, it hadn’t much heart in it, but he smiled. Duffy nodded. “You’ll hear from me,” he said.
He waited until Sam had gone downstairs, poured himself another drink, lit a cigarette, then went out and down to the Buick.
Rain was beginning to fall in heavy drops. Duffy leant over and rolled up the off-side window, then he drove the Buick on to the street. As he threaded his way through the traffic, the rain drummed hard on the car roof. It was splashing knee-high off the pavement.
Duffy drove carefully. It took him quite a time to get to the Bronx, which was a basement club, with a convenient garage over the way. Duffy left the Buick at the garage and walked down the steps into the club.
“Gilroy around?” he asked.