The Mike Hammer Collection

“So The Dragon in his chase concentrated on those two. Eventually he caught up with Erlich and shot him. That left Velda. Now he ran into a problem. During her war years she made a lot of contacts. One of them was Richie Cole. They’d meet occasionally when he was off assignment and talk over the old days and stayed good friends. She knew he was in Europe and somehow or other made contact with him. There wasn’t time enough to pass on what she had memorized and it wasn’t safe to write it down, so the answer was to get Velda back to the States with her information. There wasn’t even time to assign the job to a proper agency.

“Richie Cole broke orders and took it upon himself to protect Velda and came back to the States. He knew he was followed. He knew The Dragon would make him a target—he knew damn well there wouldn’t be enough time to do the right thing, but Velda had given him a name. She gave him me and a contact to make with an old newsie we both knew well.

“Sure, Cole tried to make the contact, but The Dragon shot him first. Trouble was, Cole didn’t die. He held off until they got hold of me because Velda told him I was so damn big I could break the moon apart in my bare hands and he figured if she said it I really could. Then he saw me.”

I put my face in my hands to rub out the picture. “Then he saw me!”

“Mike—”

“Let’s face it, kid. I was a drunk.”

“Mike—”

“Shut up. Let me talk.”

Laura didn’t answer, but her eyes hoped I wasn’t going off the deep end, so I stopped a minute, poured some coffee, drank it, then started again.

“Once again those goddamn Reds were smart. They back-tracked Velda and found out about me. They knew what Richie Cole was trying to do. Richie knew where Velda was and wanted to tell me. He died before he did. They thought he left the information with Old Dewey and killed the old man. They really thought I knew and they put a tail on me to see if I made a contact. They tore Dewey’s place and my place apart looking for information they thought Cole might have passed to me. Hell, The Dragon even tried to kill me because he thought I wasn’t really important at all and was better out of the way.”

I leaned back in the chair, my insides feeling hollow all of a sudden. Laura asked, “Mike, what’s the matter?”

“Something’s missing. Something big.”

“Please don’t talk any more.”

“It’s not that. I’m just tired, I guess. It’s hard to come back to normal this fast.”

“If we took a swim it might help.”

I opened my eyes and looked at her and grinned. “Sick of hearing hard luck stories?”

“No.”

“Any questions?”

She nodded. “Leo. Who shot him?”

I said, “In this business guns can be found anywhere. I’m never surprised to see guns with the same ballistics used in different kills. Did you know the same gun that shot your husband and Richie Cole was used in some small kill out West?”

“No, I didn’t know that.”

“There seemed to be a connection through the jewels. Richie’s cover was that of a sailor and smuggler. Your jewels were missing. Pat made that a common factor. I don’t believe it.”

“Could Leo’s position in government—well, as you intimated—”

“There is a friend of mine who says no. He has reason to know the facts. I’ll stick with him.”

“Then Leo’s death is no part of what you are looking for?”

“I don’t think so. In a way I’m sorry. I wish I could help avenge him too. He was a great man.”

“Yes, he was.”

“I’ll take you up on that swim.”

“The suits are in the bathhouse.”

“That should be fun,” I said.

In the dim light that came through the ivy-screened windows we turned our backs and took off our clothes. When you do that deliberately with a woman, it’s hard to talk and you are conscious only of the strange warmth and the brief, fiery contact when skin meets skin and a crazy desire to turn around and watch or to grab and hold or do anything except what you said you’d do when the modest moment was in reality a joke—but you didn’t quite want it to be a joke at all.

Then before we could turn it into something else and while we could still treat it as a joke, we had the bathing suits on and she grinned as she passed by me. I reached for her, stopped her, then turned because I saw something else that left me cold for little ticks of time.

Laura said, “What is it, Mike?”

I picked the shotgun out of the corner of the room. The building had been laid up on an extension of the tennis court outside and the temporary floor was clay. Where the gun rested by the door water from the outside shower had seeped in and wet it down until it was a semi-firm substance, a blue putty you could mold in your hand.

She had put the shotgun down muzzle first and both barrels were plugged with clay and when I picked it up it was like somebody had taken a bite out of the blue glop with a cookie cutter two inches deep!