“Yeah. Look, Blazer told me about the machine you had set up. I’d hate to have Smith get his hands on it.”
Smith—Fatty. Hm-m-m. The jigsaw was dislocated again. Gallegher sighed.
If he played the cards close to his chest—
“Smith hasn’t seen it yet.”
“I know that,” Cuff said. “We’ve been tapping his visor beam. One of our spies found out he’d told DU he had a man working on the job—you know? Only he didn’t mention the man’s name. All we could do was shadow Smith and tap his visor till he got in touch with you. After that—well, we caught the conversation. You told Smith you’d got the gadget.”
“Well?”
“We cut in on the beam, fast, and Blazer and the boys went down to see you. I told you I didn’t want Smith to keep that contract.”
“You never mentioned a contract,” Gallegher said.
“Don’t play dumb. Smith told ’em, up at DU, that he’d laid the whole case before you.”
Maybe Smith had. Only Gallegher had been drunk at the tune, and it was Gallegher Plus who had listened, storing the information securely in the subconscious. “So?”