The Mike Hammer Collection, Volume 2 (76 page)

“Let’s not forget it. Let’s tie it all up together so when you’re out there having fun you’ll know why. I’ll make it short and sweet and you can check on it. Ten, twelve, maybe fifteen years ago a guy was bringing a package of dope into the country for delivery to the Mafia. He tangled with a dame on board and fell for her. That’s where Berga came into it. Instead of handing over the package he decided to keep it for his sweetie and himself even though he ran the risk of being knocked off.”

“Nicholas Raymond,” Pat said.

I knew the surprise showed on my face when I nodded. “Nicholas had them on the spot. They couldn’t bump him until they located the stuff and he wasn’t stupid enough to lead them to it. There was two million bucks’ worth in that consignment and they needed it badly. So Nick goes on living with this gal and one day he dies accidentally. It’s a tricky pitch but it isn’t a hard one. They figured that by this time he would have passed the secret along to her or she would have found out herself somehow.

“But it didn’t happen that way. Nick was trickier than they thought. He got the word to her in case something happened to him, but even she didn’t know where it was or what it was that keyed it. I guess they must have tried to scare it out of her for a while because she hired herself a bodyguard. He played it too good and moved in. The Mafia didn’t like that. If he came across the stuff they’d be out of luck, so he went too.”

Pat was watching me closely. There was an expression on his face like I wasn’t telling him anything new, but he wasn’t saying a word.

“Now we come to Evello. He gets a proper knockdown to her somehow and off he goes on the big pitch. He gave her the whole treatment and probably winds it up with a proposal of marriage to make it sound good. Maybe he over-played his hand. Maybe he just wasn’t smart enough to fool her. Something slipped and Berga got wise that he was one of the mob. But she got wise to something else too.
About then she suddenly discovered what it was they were all after and when she had the chance to get Evello creamed before that congressional committee she put in her bid figuring to get the stuff on her own hook later.”

Now Pat’s face was showing that he didn’t know it all. There were sharp lines streaking out from the corners of his eyes and he waited, his tongue wetting down his lips from time to time.

I said, “She pulled out all the stops and so did they. The boys with the black hands get around. They scared her silly and by that time it didn’t take much. She went to pieces and tried to fight it out in that sanitarium.”

“That was her biggest mistake,” Pat said.

“You mentioned a woman who came to see her.”

He gave a slow nod, his hands opening and closing slowly. “We still can’t make her.”

“Could it have been a man dressed like a dame?”

“It could have been anything. There was no accurate description and no record of it.”

“It was somebody she knew.”

“Great.”

“Now the stuff is still missing.”

“I know where it is.”

Pat’s head came around faster this time.

“The two million turned into four by just sitting there,” I said. “Inflation.”

“Damn it, Mike, where?” His voice was all tight.

“On the good ship
Cedric.
Our friend Al Affia was working on the deal. He had given all the plans to her in his dive back there and whoever killed him walked off with them.”

“Now you tell me,” he said hoarsely. “Now you spill it when somebody has had time to dig it loose.”

I took a deep breath, grunted when the sting of pain stabbed across my chest and shook my head. “It’s not that easy, Pat. Al had those plans a long time. I’m even beginning to think I know why he was bumped.”

Pat waited me out.

“He tried to sucker Velda into his dump for a fast play at her. She slipped him a dose of chloral and while he was out started turning the place upside down. Al didn’t stay out very long. He got sick, his stomach dumped the stuff overboard and he saw what she was doing. Velda used the bottle on him then.”

His eyes snapped wide open. “Velda!”

“She didn’t kill him. She bopped him one and it cut his head open. He staggered out after her and got word to somebody. That somebody caught the deal in a hurry and someplace she’s still sweating.” All at once every bit of pain in my body flooded back and trapped me in its agony before fading away. I finished with, “I hope.”

“Okay, Mike, let it loose! Damn it, what else have you got? So the kid’s sweating, you hope ... and I hope too. You know them well enough to realize what’s liable to happen to her now.”

“She was on her way to see Billy Mist.” My grin turned sour and my teeth came out from under my lips again. “The cops didn’t find her.”

“Supposing she never reached there?”

“It’s a possibility I’ve been considering, friend. I saw her pass in a cab and she wasn’t alone.”

I was going warm again. The coffee didn’t sit so well in my gut any more. I thought about it as long as I could then shut out the picture when I buried my face in my hands.

Pat kept saying, “The bastards, the bastards!” His nails made a tattoo of sound on the counter and his breathing was almost as hard as mine was. “It’s breaking fast, but it’s not wide open yet, Mike. We’ll get to Billy. One way or another.”

I felt a little better. I took my hands away and reached for the last butt in the pack. “It won’t break until you get the stuff. You and the whole staff up in Washington can work from now until ten years later and you won’t make a hole in the organization big enough to stop it. You’ll knock it kicking but you won’t kill it. Slowing it down a little is all we can hope for. They’re going to hang on to Velda until somebody has that four million bucks lined up.

“I’m the target, chum. Me personally. I’ve scared the crap out of those guys as individuals ... not as an organization. They know I don’t give a damn what happens to the outfit, the dough or anything that goes with it. All I want is a raft of hides nailed to the barn door. That’s where I come in. I’m the little guy with a grudge. I’m the guy so damn burned up he’s after a man, not an organization. I’m the guy who wants to stand there and see him die and he knows it. He wants that consignment of narcotics in the worst way but before it does him any good I have to die first.

“So they’re holding Velda. She’s the bait and she’s something else besides. I’ve been getting closer to this than anybody else and they’ve known something I never got wise to. Berga passed the clue to me before she died and I’ve been sitting on it all this time. For a little while they had it, but they couldn’t make it out. They expect me to. When I do I’ll have to use it to ransom Velda with it.”

“They’re not that dumb, Mike,” Pat told me.

“Neither am I. Someplace the answer slapped me in the teeth and I was in such a hurry I missed it. I can feel the damn thing crawling around in my head and can’t lay my finger on it. The damn arrogant bastards ...”

Pat said, “The head is pretty far from the body.”

“What?”

He looked out the window and watched the rain. “They can afford to be arrogant. The entire structure of the Mafia is built on arrogance. They flout the laws of every country in the world, they violate the integrity of the individual, they’re a power in themselves backed by ruthlessness, violence and some of the shrewdest brains in existence.”

“About the head and the body, I mean.”

“We can smash the body of this thing, Mike, but in this country the head and the body aren’t connected except by the very thin thread of a neck. The top man, men, or group is a separate caste. The organization is built so that the head can function without the body if it comes to it. The body parts can be assembled any time, but it’s an assembly for the benefit of the head, never forget that. It’s a government. The little people in it don’t count. It’s the rulers who are important and the government is run solely for their benefit and to satisfy their appetites. They’re never known and they’re not going to be known.”

“Unless they make one stinking little mistake,” I said.

Pat stopped looking at the rain.

I rubbed the ache out of my side. “The stuff is on the
Cedric.
All you have to do is find the ship. The records will carry the stateroom Raymond used. When you find it call Ray Diker at the Globe and give him first crack at the details of the yarn. Tell him to hold the story until I call you. By then I’ll have Velda.”

“Where are you going?”

“The last time you asked that I said I was going out to kill somebody.” I held out my hand. “Gimme a fin.”

He looked puzzled, scowled, then pulled five ones out of his pocket. I laid two of them on the counter and nodded to the counterman to come get it. He was all smiles.

“Where’s Michael Friday?”

“She said she was going to your place to see you.”

“I wasn’t home.”

“Well, she’s not reporting to me on the hour.”

“No police guard?”

His frown got bigger this time. “I tried to but she said no. One of the feds pulled out after her anyway. He lost her when she got in a cab.”

“Sloppy.”

“Lay off. Everybody’s up to their ears in this thing.”

“Yeah. You going to trace the
Cedric?”

“What do you think. Where are you going?”

I let a laugh out that sounded hollow as hell. “I’m going out in the rain and think some more. Then maybe I’ll go kill somebody else.”

I could see Pat remembering the other years. Younger years when the dirt seemed to be only on the surface. When being a cop looked good and the law was for protection and guidance. When there weren’t so many strings and sticky red tape and corruption in high places.

His hand went into his pocket and brought out the blued .38. He handed it to me under the shelf of the hanger. “Here, use this for a change.”

And I remembered what Velda had said and I shook my head. “Some other time. I like it better this way.”

I went out and walked down the street and let the rain hit me in the face. Someplace there was a gimmick and that was what I had to find. I reached the subway kiosk, bought a pack of Luckies and dropped them in my pocket. I waited for the uptown local and got aboard when it came in.

With every jolt the train took I could feel the shock wear off a little bit more. It got worse and when it was too bad I stood up and leaned against the door watching the walls of the tunnel go by in a dirty blur.

A gimmick. One lousy little gimmick and I could have it. It was there trying to come out and whenever I thought I had it my stomach would retch and I’d lose it.

The train pulled into the station, opened its multitude of mouths but I was the only one who stepped out. I had the platform all to myself then, so I let go and the coffee came up.

There weren’t any cabs outside. I didn’t waste time waiting for one. I walked toward my apartment not conscious of the rain any more, hardly conscious of the protest my body was setting up. I felt my legs starting to go when I reached the door and the super and his wife took a startled look at me and helped me inside.

Lily Carver came up out of the chair holding back the sharp intake of her breath with the back of her hand. Her eyes went soft, reflected the hurt mine were showing, then she had my hand and helped me into the bedroom.

I flopped on the bed and closed my eyes. Hands loosened my collar and pulled at my shoes. I could hear the super telling his wife to stay out, and hear her frightened sobs. I could hear Lily and feel her hands on my forehead. For a second I glimpsed the white halo of her hair and saw the sensuous curves of her body in hazy detail hovering over me.

The super said, “You want me to call a doctor, Mr. Hammer?”

I shook my head.

“I’ll call a cop. Maybe ...”

I shook my head again. “I’ll be okay.”

“You feel good enough to talk a minute?”

“What?” I could feel the sleep closing in as I said it.

“A woman was here. Friday, her name was. She left you a note in an envelope and said it was pretty important. She wanted you to see it as soon as you came in.”

“What was in it?”

“I didn’t look. Should I open it?”

“Go ahead.”

The bed jounced as he got up. It left me rocking gently, a soothing motion of pure comfort and there was a heaviness under my closed eyes too great to fight. Then the bed jounced again as he sat down and I heard the tearing of paper.

“Here it is.” His voice paused. “Not much in it though.”

“Read it,” I said.

“Sure.
‘Dear Mike ... I found the list. Your friend has it. I found something much more important too and must see you at once. Call me. Please call me at once. Love Michael.’
That’s all there is to it, Mr. Hammer.”

“Thanks,” I said, “thanks a lot.”

From the other room his wife set up a nervous twittering. His fingers touched me. “Think it’ll be all right if I go back?”

Before I could nod Lily said, “Go ahead. I’ll take care of him. Thank you so much for everything.”

“Well ... if you need me, just call down.”

“I’ll do that.”

I got my eyes open one last time. I saw the smooth beauty of her face unmarred by anything now. She was smiling, her hands doing things to my clothes. The strange softness was back in her eyes and she whispered, “Darling, darling ...”

The sleep came. There was a face in it. The face had a rich, wet mouth, full and soft. It kept coming closer, opening slowly. It was Michael and in my dream I grinned at her, fascinated by her lips.

CHAPTER
12

You hurt too much to sleep. You wake up and it hurts more so you try to go back to sleep. There’s a physical ache, a gnawing your body tries vainly to beat down and might have if the pain in your mind wasn’t even worse. Processions of thoughts hammer at you, gouge and scrape until the brain is a wild thing seeking some kind of release. But there isn’t any release. There’s fire all around you, the tongues of it licking closer, needling the skin. The brain screams for you to awaken, but if you do you know the other things ... the thoughts, will be a more searing pain so you fight and fight until the mind conquers and you feel the awakening coming on.