Duffy said, “Morgan Navigation Trust Co.”
“I know.” English hung up gently.
Duffy pushed the telephone away from him and stood up. “Let’s go,” he said.
They walked out of the office, carefully relocking the door, down the fire-escape, into the pouring rain.
Shep was still sitting there, fondling his gun. They climbed into the Buick, and Schultz started the engine.
Shep said, “All right?”
“Easy,” Duffy returned, lighting a cigarette. “Morgan’s going to get a mighty big shock tomorrow.”
Gilroy said out of the dark, “English has got to be pretty leery to pin anything on that bird.”
Duffy forced a thin stream of smoke down his nostrils. “English can handle him all right,” he said. “You see.”
Schultz said, “We go back, don’t we?”