The Mike Hammer Collection

I made the call from the drugstore on the corner. I dialed the Torrence estate and waited while the phone rang a half-dozen times, each time feeling the cold go through me deeper and deeper.

Damn, it couldn’t be too late!

Then a sleepy voice said, “Yes?” and there was no worry in it at all.

“Geraldine?”

“Mike, you thing you.”

“Look . . .”

“Why did you leave me? How could you leave me?”

“I’ll tell you later. Has Torrence come home yet?”

My voice startled her into wakefulness. “But . . . no, he’s due here in an hour though. He called this morning from Albany to tell me when he’d be home.”

“Good, now listen. Is Sue all right?”

“Yes . . . she’s still in bed. I gave her another sedative.”

“Well, get her out of it. Both of you hop in a car and get out of there. Now . . . not later, now.”

“But, Mike . . .”

“Damn it, shut up and do what I say. There’s going to be trouble I can’t explain.”

“Where can we go? Mike, I don’t . . .”

I gave her my new address and added, “Go right there and stay there. The super has the key and will let you in. Don’t open that door for anybody until you’re sure it’s me, understand? I can’t tell you any more except that your neck and Sue’s neck are out a mile. We have another dead man on our hands and we don’t need any more. You got that?”

She knew I wasn’t kidding. There was too much stark urgency in my voice. She said she’d leave in a few minutes and when she did I could sense the fear that touched her.

I tapped the receiver cradle down, broke the connection, dropped in a dime, and dialed my own number. Velda came on after the first ring with a guarded hello.

I said, “It’s breaking, baby. How do you feel?”

“Not too bad. I can get around.”

“Swell. You go downstairs and tell the super that a Geraldine King and Sue Devon are to be admitted to my apartment. Nobody else. Let him keep the key. Then you get down to Sim Torrence’s headquarters and check up on his movements all day yesterday. I want every minute of the day spelled out and make it as specific as you can. He got a phone call yesterday. See if it originated from there. I don’t care if he took ten minutes out to go to the can . . . you find out about it. I’m chiefly interested in any time he took off last night.”

“Got it, Mike. Where can I reach you?”

“At the apartment. When I get through I’ll go right there. Shake it up.”

“Chop chop. Love me?”

“What a time to ask.”

“Well?”

“Certainly, you nut.”

She laughed that deep, throaty laugh and hung up on me and I had a quick picture of her sliding out of bed, those beautiful long legs rippling into a body . . . oh hell.

I put the phone back and went back to Pat.

“Where’d you go?” he said.

“We got a killer, buddy.”

He froze for a second. “You didn’t find anything?”

“No? Then make sense out of this.” I pointed to the picture of Sim Torrence in the window.

“Go ahead.”

“Sim’s on the way up. He’s getting where he always wanted to be. He’s got just one bug in his life and that’s the kid, Sue Devon. All her life she’s been on his back about something in their past and there was always that chance she might find it.

“One time he defended a hard case and when he needed one he called on the guy. Basil Levitt. He wanted Sue knocked off. Some instinct told Sue what he intended to do and she ran for it and wound up at Velda’s. She didn’t know it, but it was already too late. Levitt was on her tail all the while, followed her, set up in a place opposite the house, and waited for her to show.

“The trouble was, Velda was in hiding too. She respected the kid’s fears and kept her undercover until she was out of trouble herself, then she would have left the place with her. Hell, Pat, Levitt didn’t come in there for Velda . . . he was after the kid. When he saw me he must have figured Torrence sent somebody else because he was taking too long and he wasn’t about to lose his contract money. That’s why Levitt bust in like that.

“Anyway, when Torrence made the deal he must have met Levitt in this joint here thinking he’d never be recognized. But he forgot that his picture is plastered all over on posters throughout the city. Maybe Kline never gave it a thought if he recognized him then. Maybe Kline only got the full picture when he saw Levitt’s photo. But he put the thing together. First he called your department for information and grew suspicious when nobody gave him anything concrete.

“Right here he saw Torrence over a barrel so yesterday he called him and told him to meet him. Sim must have jumped out of his skin. He dummied an excuse and probably even led into a trip to Albany for further cover . . . this we’ll know about when I see Velda. But he got here all right. He saw Kline and that was the last Kline saw of anything.”

“You think too much, Mike.”

“The last guy that said that is dead.” I grinned.

“We’d better get up there then.”