The thin man who opened the door looked at him suspiciously, said, “Who wants him?”
“Tell him a friend of Ross.”
The thin man pulled the door open. “Come in,” he said. When Duffy stepped into the dimly-lit passage, the thin man ran his hands down Duffy’s suit. He stepped back. “You can’t bring a rod in here,” he said.
“Tell Gilroy,” Duffy snapped, “and shut up.”
The thin man looked at him, hesitated, then walked down the passage. He disappeared through a dirty green baize door, and Duffy leant against the wall, waiting. After a short delay the door opened again and a very light-coloured negro came out. He was tall and slender, with a heavy wave in his oily hair. He gave Duffy a hard look. “You want me?”
Duffy said, “Ross sent me here I want to keep under cover for a few days.”
Gilroy passed a long thin hand over his hair. “Okay,” he said. “A hundred bucks a day.”
Duffy sidled close. “Forget it,” he said. “You don’t make profit out of me.”
Gilroy looked at him, then his large lips smiled. “No,” he said, “that was bad. Ross’s a good friend of mine. Make it twenty-five.”
Duffy took out his roll, peeled ten saw bucks and handed them over. “That’ll hold you for a few days,” he said.