Gilroy said, “The dough would’ve been better.”
Duffy shrugged. “You can’t have everything,” he said.
Shep had been listening to the conversation. He turned his head. “Say, those notes sure made a sap of me. Why not put ’em on the street? We’d pass ’em okay.”
Duffy said, “No, that’s not the way to play it. You’ll get the dough all right, but it’ll take a little longer. When you get it, it’ll be safe.”
When they got back to the Bronx, Duffy ’phoned English. English said, “We’ve got Wessen.”
“How about Annabel?”
“Never mind about her. I’ve paid another five thousand dollars into your account. That should hold you for a bit.”
Duffy grinned to himself. “Listen, English,” he said. “Are you holding Clive Wessen on a murder rap?”
“Murder?” English seemed surprised. “No, he’s in for cocaine smuggling.”
Duffy grinned and winked over his shoulder at Gilroy.