The Mike Hammer Collection

I took the gun from her hand, dropped it in a chair, then pushed the door closed with my foot and felt for the light switch. A lamp on the table seemed to come alive with the unreal slowness of a movie prop, gradually highlighting the classic beauty of her face and the provocative thrust of her breasts.

There was a subtle leanness about her now, like you saw in those fresh from a battle area, every gesture a precision movement, every sense totally alert. And now she was just beginning to realize that it was over and she could be free again.

“Hello, kitten,” I said, and watched her smile.

There wasn’t much we could say. That would take time, but now we had all the time in the world. She looked at me, talking through those crazy eyes, then her expression went soft and a frown made small creases across her forehead. Her fingers went out and touched my face and the white edge of her teeth went into her lip.

“Mike . . .?”

“It’s okay, baby.”

“You’re not . . . hurt?”

I shook my head. “Not anymore.”

“There’s something about you now . . . I can’t quite tell what . . .”

“Seven years, Velda,” I interrupted. “It was downhill all the way until I found out you were still alive. It leaves marks, but none that can’t be wiped out.”

Her eyes blurred under tears that came too quickly to control. “Mike darling . . . I couldn’t reach you. It was all too impossible and big . . .”

“I know it, kid. You don’t have to explain.”

Her hair swirled in a dark arc when she shook her head. “But I do.”

“Later.”

“Now.” Her fingers touched my mouth to silence me and I let them. “It took seven years to learn a man’s secret and escape Communist Europe with information that will keep us equal or better than they are. I know I could have . . . gotten away earlier . . . but I had to make a choice.”

“You made the right one.”

“There was no way to tell you.”

“I know it.”

“Truly . . .”

“I understand, kitten.”

She wouldn’t listen. Her voice was softly insistent, almost pleading. “I could have, Mike. I know I could have some way, but I couldn’t afford the chance. There were millions of lives at stake.” She paused a second, then pulled my cheek against hers. “I know how you must have felt, thinking you had me killed. I thought of it so often I nearly went out of my mind, but I still couldn’t have changed things.”

“Forget it,” I told her.

“What did happen to you, Mike?”

She pushed away, holding me at arm’s length to study me.

“I got to be a drunk,” I said.

“You?”

“Me, kitten.”

Her expression was one of curious bewilderment. “But when I told them . . . they had to find you . . . only you could do it . . .”

“One mentioned your name and I changed, honey. When you came alive again, so did I.”

“Oh, Mike . . .”

As big as she was, I picked her up easily, kissed her again, and took her across the room to the gaudy mohair couch that nestled in the bay of an airshaft window. She quivered against me, smiled when I laid her down, then pulled my mouth to hers with a desperation that told me of the loneliness of seven years and the gnawing wanting inside her now.

Finally she said, “I’m a virgin, Mike.”

“I know.”

“I’ve always waited for you. It’s been a pretty long wait.”

I grinned down at her. “I was crazy to make you wait.”

“And now?”

Then I wasn’t grinning anymore. She was all mine whenever I wanted her, a big, beautiful animal of a woman who loved me and was ready to be taken now, now. Even touching was a painful emotion and the fire that had been dormant was one I didn’t want to put out.

I said, “Can you wait a little bit more?”

“Mike?” There was a quick hurt in her eyes, then the question.

“Let’s do it right, kitten. Always I do the wrong things. Let’s make this one right.” Before she could answer I said, “Don’t argue. Don’t even talk about it. We do it, that’s all, then we can explode into a million pieces. We do the bit at City Hall with the license and do it right.”

Velda smiled back impishly, the happiness of knowing what I wanted plain in her face. “That really doesn’t matter,” she told me. “First I want you. Now. More than ever.”

“Crazy broad,” I said, then fought her mouth with mine, knowing we were both going to win. My hand drifted across the satiny expanse of her naked shoulder, feeling the minute trembling throughout her body. She twisted so she pressed against me, moaning softly, demanding things we never had from each other.

“Pretty,” he said from the door. “Real pretty.”

I still had the .45 in my belt but I never could have made it. Velda’s convulsive grip around my neck slowed the action enough so that I saw the Police Positive in his hand and didn’t get killed after all. The hammer was back for faster shooting and the look on his face was one I had seen before on other cheap killers and knew that he’d drop me the second he thought I might be trouble.

“Go on, don’t stop,” he said. “I like good shows.”