Alice and Sam exchanged glances, Duffy watched them through his swollen eyes. He thought they looked a swell pair. He shut his eyes for a moment, then found it was too much trouble to open them again.
Alice looked down at him. “What can have happened to the poor dear?” she said, keeping her voice very low.
McGuire put his arm round her and they left the room together. “He said three toughs set about him,” he said, when they were in the living-room. “Let him have a good sleep, then we’ll hear something more. I’ll get back early tonight.”
“Sam!” Duffy’s voice was urgent.
McGuire went back into the bedroom. “Go to sleep, you big loon,” he commanded.
“Listen, Sam.” Duffy raised his head. “I want you to find out all you can about a girl called Annabel English, a guy called Daniel Morgan and whoever works for him. Dig in and get the lowdown on them. Don’t miss a thing. Also find out what you can about Cattley the dope-peddler. Get that, and I’ll rest all right.”
McGuire took out a note-book and jotted down the names. “All right,” he said; “it all sounds screwy to me, and I’m bursting with curiosity, but I’ll get you the dope, but in the meantime, take it easy.”
When McGuire got back in the evening, Duffy was still sleeping.
Alice said, “He’s been that way all day.”
“Sure, that’s the best thing that could happen to him. Suppose we eat, and then maybe he’ll be ready to talk.”