The Mike Hammer Collection (15 page)

I picked Charlotte up and dusted her off. Her face was white and shaken, but her voice was steady enough. Two strollers came hurrying up, thinking we had fallen. Before they reached us, I got the slug from the dirt under the wall where it had dropped. It was a .45. I thanked the two who tried to help us, explaining that we had tripped, and we went on.

Charlotte waited a moment, then said: “You're getting close, Mike. Somebody wants you out of the way.”

“I know it. And I know who that was—our friend, Kalecki.” I gave a short laugh. “He's scared. It won't be long now. That skunk is ready to break any minute. If he weren't he wouldn't make a play for me in broad daylight.”

“But, Mike, please don't laugh about it. It wasn't that funny.”

I stopped and put my arms around her shoulders. I could feel her trembling a little. “I'm sorry, darling. I'm used to being shot at. You might have gotten hit, too. Let me take you home, you'll have to change your clothes. That spill didn't do you much good.”

Charlotte didn't speak much riding home. She started to, but stopped. Finally I said, “What is it, Charlotte?”

She frowned a little. “Do you think it was because of the rash promise you made to Jack after he was killed that Kalecki wants you out of the way?”

“Maybe. That's the best reason I know of. Why?”

“Could it be that you know more than anyone else concerning this whole affair?”

I thought that over a moment before I said, “I don't think so. The police have every bit of information I have except, perhaps, the incentive and the personal insight I picked up.”

We drove on in silence after that. It was nearly ten o'clock when we got to the apartment. We went up the stairs instead of waiting for the elevator and rang the bell. No one came to the door and Charlotte fumbled for her key. “Damn,” she said. “I forgot this is the maid's day off.” We went inside and the bell rang again when we opened the door.

“Make a drink while I shower, Mike.” Charlotte laid a bottle of bourbon on the coffee table and went into the kitchen for some ice and ginger ale.

“Okay. Do you mind if I use your phone first?”

“Not at all. Go right ahead,” she called back.

I dialed Pat's number and had to wait for the operator to go through a half-dozen extensions before he finally located him. “Pat?”

“Yeah, Mike, go ahead.”

“Get this. Kalecki didn't take a powder, he's still in the city.”

“How do you know?”

“He tried to dust me off a little while ago.” Pat listened intently as I gave him the details. When I got through, he asked:

“Did you get the number of the car?”

“Uh-uh. It was a late model Caddy, about a '41. Dark blue with lots of chrome. He passed me going toward the city.”

“Swell, Mike, I'll put it on the air. Have you got the bullet with you?”

“Hell, yes. And it's a .45, too. Better get ballistics to check it. This one wasn't a dumdum, though. Just a nice normal slug. Suppose I drive down to see you this afternoon.”

“Do that,” Pat answered. “I'll be here the rest of the day unless something breaks.

“And one other thing, Mike,” he added.

“Yeah?”

“We checked the slugs that killed Kines and the Vickers woman.”

“They came from the same gun? The one that...”

“Right, Mike. The killer again.”

“Damn,” I said.

I hung up and took the slug from my pocket. Maybe it would match, maybe not. I was thinking of the rod Kalecki had in his luggage under his bed. And he had a permit for it too, he said. I wished now that I had taken that gun along to compare it in a ballistics box instead of leaving it to my sense of smell and sight to determine whether or not it had been fired recently.

I wrapped the hunk of metal in a wad of paper and stuck it in my pocket, then whipped up a pair of highballs. I called out to Charlotte to come and get it, but she yelled for me to bring it in to her.

Maybe I should have waited a second, or knocked. I did neither. Charlotte was standing beside the bed completely naked. When I saw her beautiful body that way my blood boiled inside me and the drink shook in my hand. She was more beautiful than I imagined. So damned smooth. She was more startled than I. She made a grab for the robe on the bed and held it in front of her, but not before I saw a blush suffuse her entire body.

She was having as hard a time getting her breath as I was. “Mike,” she said. Her voice trembled slightly when she spoke, and her eyes never left mine. I turned my back while she slipped into the robe, then turned back and handed her the drink.

Both of us finished them in one draught. It added nothing to the fire that was running through me. I felt like reaching out and squeezing her to pieces. We put the glasses down on the dresser top. We were awfully close then. One of those moments.

She came into my arms with a rush, burying her face in my neck. I tilted her head back and kissed her eyes. Her mouth opened for me and I kissed her, hard. I knew I was hurting her, but she didn't pull away. She returned that kiss with her lips, her arms and her body. She was on fire too, trying desperately to get close to me through space that wasn't there any more.

I had my arm around her shoulders and my hands fastened in her hair, crushing her to me. Never before had I felt like this, but then, never before had I been in love. She took her mouth away from mine and lay in my arms, limp, breathing heavily, her eyes closed.

“Mike,” she whispered, “I want you.”

“No,” I said.

“Yes. You must.”

“No.”

“But, Mike, why? Why?”

“No, darling, it's too beautiful to spoil. Not now. Our time will come, but it must be right.”

I put my arm under her and carried her out of the room. If I stayed in that bedroom any longer I couldn't have held on to my sanity. I kissed her again as she lay in my arms, then put her down outside the bathroom door and mussed her hair. “Go take your shower,” I said in her ear.

She smiled at me through sleepy eyes and entered, then closed the door softly. I picked up the glasses, and for a brief second eyed the bed, longingly. Maybe I was a damned fool, I don't know. I went on into the living room.

I waited until I heard the shower running before I picked up the phone. Charlotte's secretary answered promptly with the usual hello.

“This is Mike Hammer again,” I said. “I'm expecting a friend and I told him to call your office, so when he does tell him where I went, will you?”

“Oh, that won't be necessary,” she replied. “He already has. I told him you'd be in the park. Did you miss him?”

“No, he'll be along,” I lied.

So, somebody is on my tail, I told myself as I hung up. Good old George. Followed me, lost me, but figured I'd see Charlotte, very clever.

I made another drink, then stretched out on the sofa. He must have tailed me and I never got wise. I couldn't figure how he knew Id see Charlotte unless it was written all over me. They say love is like that. But what a way to get put on the spot. He picked the time and place nicely. If I hadn't ducked, Kalecki would have scored a bull's-eye. He did his shooting at point-blank range. What the hell, Kalecki knew the score. If the cops picked him up in the dragnet it would be a miracle. I'll bet he had plenty of places he could hole up in if the time came. George was a smart apple. I wasn't worried about the police flushing him any more. Mr. Kalecki was reserved—for me. Pat was going to be awfully sore.

Charlotte was out and dressed in record time. Neither of us spoke about what had happened, but each knew that it was foremost in the other's mind. She made herself a drink, then sat down beside me. “How did you know I was coming today?”

She gave me a bright smile. “Mike, darling, I've been expecting you ever since I saw you. Or am I doing it wrong?”

“Not as far as I'm concerned.”

“But you told me that you like to do the chasing.”

“Not with you. Time is too damned important.”

When she settled in my arms I told her about the call to her office. She didn't like it a bit. “You're not trying to be very careful, Mike. If it is Kalecki, he is smart. Please, Mike, watch yourself. If anything happens to you, I'll...”

“You'll what?”

“Oh, Mike, can't you see that I love you?”

I stroked her golden hair and blew in her ear. “Yes, silly, I can see it. It must be sticking out all over me the same way.”

“Yes,” she said, “it is.” We both grinned at each other. I felt like a school kid. “Now, let's get back to business before I rush off to the office,” she went on. “You came to see me for something besides just being nice. What was it?”

It was my turn to be amazed. “Now, how the hell did you know that?” I demanded.

Charlotte patted my hand. “How many times do I have to remind you that I am a practicing psychiatrist? It doesn't mean that I can read minds, but I can study people, observe their behavior and determine what lies underneath. Especially,” here she gave a coy smile, “when you really take an interest in a person.”

“You win.” I blew a couple of smoke rings and continued. “What I want is everything you know about Hal Kines.”

She came back to earth abruptly at the mention of his name. “That's what I thought after you spoke about what happened. Well, you know that he was in a medical school. Pre-med to be exact. From what you said, he was there ostensibly to procure women for this vice syndicate. Isn't that an unusual way of doing it?”

“No. Not when you know people,” I said. “In order to have a good hold on the girls they have to break them away from their homes, then get them trapped in the mill. I imagine they have some sort of evidence concerning their activities that they hold over their heads. So what can the girls do? They've been betrayed, kicked out of their homes, no one to turn to, but the door is open to the old profession. At least they can eat and have a roof over their heads—and make plenty of cash. Then once they're in they can't get out even if they wanted to. It takes time, but it's big business and pays off. Using a method like this, Hal could get the girl he wanted without running too much of a personal risk.”

“I see.” She mulled over what I had said a moment, then gave me the rest. “Anyway, I gave a lecture at the school by invitation of the board and, after examining the records and work of the student body specializing in psychiatry, chose several students to study my clinical methods. Hal Kines was one of them. He was an excellent worker, knew what he was doing every minute. He was far in advance of the others.

“At first I credited it to natural ability and a medical home background, but now I can see that it was simply the result of so much training in the field. After sixteen years of being exposed to teaching you are bound to pick up something.”

“I guess so,” I cut in. “How about his outside contacts?”

“He lived at an apartment hotel three blocks from me while he was here. During the time he was at school he lived in a dorm, I suppose. On weekends he would visit the clinic and stay with Mr. Kalecki. Hal never spoke much about outside matters, he was so wrapped up in his work. He was in a scrape one day and Jack Williams helped him out.”

I nodded. “Yeah, I know all about that from Hal himself. What about his personal side? Did he ever make a pass at you?”

“No. Never attempted one. Do you think he might have been, er, after me to join his syndicate?”

“Why, that dirty...” I stopped there when I saw her laughingly silently at me. “I doubt that. You were too smart to get caught in that kind of web. I think he was with you either to have an excuse to stay in the city, or really study psychiatry to help him in his work.”

“Did it ever occur to you that he might have been here to kill Jack?”

That idea wasn't a new one to me. I'd been playing with it all day. “Could have been. I thought it over. Maybe he was here because Jack had already caught on and was making him stay. Jack was soft-hearted, but not when it came to a thing like that. Not being in the department any longer, he couldn't put the screws on him officially, but held something over his head to make him stay.”

“Then who killed Jack—Hal?”

“That,” I said, “is something I'd give both legs and one arm to know. Just so long as I had one arm to shoot with. And that's something I'm going to find out before long.”

“And what about Hal and this girl, Eileen?”

“The killer got them both. The way I see it, Hal Kines went there to kill the girl, but before he got the chance the killer knocked them both off.”

“But if that was the case, how would Jack have known he would be there to kill her?”

“You've got something there, Charlotte. Maybe Jack knew he'd be there for some reason. Think so?”

“Perhaps. Either that or he knew the killer would be there, too. But until then the killer hadn't killed, so he had another purpose in the visit. Sounds sort of scrambled, doesn't it?”

“You're not kidding,” I laughed. “But as the plot thickens it thins out, too. Whatever the motive, it takes in a lot of people. Three of them are dead, one is running around the city taking potshots at me, and the killer is someplace sitting back quietly giving all of us the horse laugh. What the hell, let him laugh. He won't be doing it much longer. There's too many people working on this case and they'll uncover something. Murder is a hard thing to hide. Pat is setting a fast pace in this race. He wants the trigger-happy son as badly as I do, but I'll be damned if he's going to get him. From now on I'm going to get out in front of Pat and stay there. Let him stick close to my heels; when the time comes for me to put a bullet in the killer's gut I'm going to be alone. Just me, the rat and a single bullet. It'll go in neat, right in the soft part of the belly. One steel-jacketed slug that will be as effective as ten dumdums.”