The Mike Hammer Collection

“There’s more.”

His eyes were funny. They had an oblique quality as if they watched something totally foreign, something they had never realized could exist before. They watched and waited. Then he said, “Erlich had an importance we really didn’t understand until lately. He was the nucleus of an organization of espionage agents the like of which had never been developed before and whose importance remained intact even after the downfall of the Third Reich. It was an organization so ruthless that its members, in order to pursue their own ends, would go with any government they thought capable of winning a present global conflict and apparently they selected the Reds. To oppose them and us meant fighting two battles, so it would be better to support one until the other lost, then undermine that one until it could take over.”

“Crazy,” I said.

“Is it?”

“They can’t win.”

“But they can certainly bring on some incredible devastation.”

“Then why kill Erlich?”

Art sat back and folded his hands together in a familiar way. “Simple. He defected. He wanted out. Let’s say he got smart in his late years and realized the personal futility of pushing this thing any further. He wanted to spend a few years in peace.”

It was reasonable in a way. I nodded.

“But he had to die,” Art continued. “There was one thing he knew that was known only to the next in line in the chain of command, the ones taking over the organization.”

“Like what?”

“He knew every agent in the group. He could bust the whole shebang up if he spilled his guts to the West and the idea of world conquest by the Reds or the others would go smack down the drain.”

“This you know?” I asked.

He shook his head. “No. Let’s say I’m sure of it, but I don’t know it. At this point I really don’t care. It’s the rest of the story I pulled out of the hat I’m interested in.” And now his eyes cocked themselves up at me again. “He was tracked down and killed by one known to the Reds as their chief assassin agent, Gorlin, but to us as The Dragon.”

If he could have had his hand on my chest, or even have touched me anywhere, he would have known what was happening. My guts would knot and churn and my head was filled with a wild flushing sensation of blood almost bursting through their walls. But he didn’t touch me and he couldn’t tell from my face so his eyes looked at me even a little more obliquely, expecting even the slightest reaction and getting none. None at all.

“You’re a cold-blooded bastard,” he nearly whispered.

“You said that before.”

He blinked owlishly behind his glasses and stood up, his coat over his arm. “You know where to reach me.”

“I know.”

“Do you need anything?”

“Not now. Thanks for the ticket.”

“No trouble. Will you promise me something?”

“Sure.”

“Just don’t use that gun on The Dragon.”

“I won’t kill him, Art.”

“No. Leave that for me. Don’t spoil my pleasure or yours either.”

He went out, closing the door softly behind him. I pulled the center desk drawer out, got the extra clip and the box of shells from the niche and closed the drawer.

The package I had mailed to myself was on the table by the door where Nat always put my packages when he had to take them from the mailman. I ripped it open, took out the .45, checked the action and dropped it in the holster.

Now it was just like old times.

I turned off the light in my office and went outside. I was reaching for the door when the phone on Velda’s desk went off with a sudden jangling that shook me for a second before I could pick it up.

Her voice was rich and vibrant when she said hello and I wanted her right there with me right then. She knew it too, and her laugh rippled across the miles. She said, “Are you going to be busy tonight, Mike?”

Time was something I had too little of, but I had too little of her too. “Well—why?”

“Because I’m coming into your big city.”

“Isn’t it kind of late?”

“No. I have to be there at ten p.m. to see a friend of yours and since I see no sense of wasting the evening I thought that whatever you have to do you can do it with me. Or can you?”

“It takes two to dance, baby.”

She laughed again. “I didn’t mean it that way.”

“Sure, come on in. If I said not to I’d be lying. Who’s my friend you have a date with?”

“An old friend and new enemy. Captain Chambers.”

“What is this?”

“I don’t know. He called and asked if I could come in. It would simplify things since his going out of his jurisdiction requires a lot of work.”

“For Pete’s sake—”

“Mike—I don’t mind, really. If it has to do with Leo’s death, well, I’ll do anything. You know that.”

“Yeah, but—”

“Besides, it gives me an excuse to see you even sooner than I hoped. Okay?”

“Okay.”

“See you in a little while, Mike. Any special place?”

“Moriarty’s at Sixth and Fifty-second. I’ll be at the bar.”

“Real quick,” she said and hung up.