Chapter Two The shade was drawn, but it was a bright yellow patch in the room with the sun beating down on it from a high angle and I knew I had been sleeping a long time. I looked at my wrist, but the watch was gone and the rest of me was naked under a single sheet in RondineÒs bed. I glanced around quickly, saw the watch on the nightstand, stopped at five forty-five because it hadnÒt been wound. I picked up the extension phone, dialed the time-check number and found out that it was almost four-thirty in the afternoon, then hung up and started to push the covers off me. Rondine came in then, having heard the sound of my dialing. ÓWhy didnÒt you get me up, kid?Ô My voice sounded hard and cracked. ÓWhatever the doctor gave you was supposed to keep you that way.Ô ÓWho put me to bed?Ô She gave me a funny smile. ÓYou could have left my shorts on,Ô I said. ÓThat wouldnÒt have been any fun.Ô She sat on the edge of the bed looking at me. ÓYou moan even when youÒre unconscious.Ô ÓOh, shut up.Ô I grinned at her. ÓYou wouldnÒt dare.Ô ÓNo? Why not?Ô ÓYouÒre too prim and proper.Ô ÓBut youÒve trained me well.Ô I didnÒt know whether to believe her or not. ÓGet my clothes,Ô I finally said. ÓNo. I checked with the doctor and youÒre to stay in bed.Ô ÓWho else told you that too? Charlie? Hal Randolph?Ô Her eyes gave me the answer fast enough and she nodded. ÓThey went through my own superiors. I guess they know what youÒd want to do so they put the pressure on me. I had to let you stay there. Tiger ... it was for the best.Ô ÓDamn it, they were thinking of themselves.Ô ÓBut I was thinking of you.Ô She wasnÒt trying to be cagey about it. ÓOne day, when weÒre married, youÒll get your orders directly from me. Nobody will supersede me and if they try they get clipped, and if you listen, you get your tail burned.Ô ÓWhen will that be?Ô she probed. ÓIÒll tell you when.Ô ÓYou seem to like long engagements, Tiger.Ô She wasnÒt smiling now. I said, ÓWhen itÒs over. When we can walk and breathe without smelling death all the time or knowing the world is sitting on the lip of disaster. I donÒt want you a widow before youÒre married.Ô ÓHow do you know what I want, darling?Ô ÓOh sure, youÒll take me now because youÒre a broad and all broads want it now regardless of the consequences, but IÒm not letting you stick your neck out in the middle of a mess like this. Crazy broad.Ô ÓI despise that word.Ô ÓYou do? Well wear it well, baby. ItÒs a sign that youÒre more than a woman. YouÒre a doll with everything going for her from a beautiful face to a wild body with a mind to match and I love you like hell. You have capabilities only I can appreciate and I want them all.Ô ÓSo IÒm a broad,Ô she said, losing the British accent momentarily and dropping into pure Brooklynese. ÓDamn, whereÒd you pick that up?Ô ÓFrom you.Ô She walked to the closet, took my clothes out and laid them down beside me, the gun to one side. ÓNow get dressed. Want me to watch?Ô I gave her a small push. ÓGet out of here. Some things I can do by myself.Ô ÓBut in some things you need help, right?Ô I gave her a nasty grin. ÓRight. Now scram.Ô With a slow unwinding motion she eased off the bed, stood there looking at me, then started for the door. Her hesitation was deliberate and she didnÒt mind me knowing it. She turned around slowly, her hand on the knob, and asked, ÓDo you really know where he is?Ô ÓWho?Ô ÓLouis Agrounsky?Ô I had my pants on and the holster hooked up, then I shoved the .45 into the speed rig before I even reached for my shirt. ÓNo, but like I said, I think I know how to find him.Ô ÓCan I help?Ô ÓMaybe, but not at this point.Ô ÓThe other agencies . . . ?Ô she started hopefully. ÓScrew them, I told you. Later IÒll tell you why.Ô ÓCan you tell me where youÒre going now?Ô ÓSure. Downtown to the New York offices of I.A.T.S. and tender Hal Randolph and Company a report, after which theyÒll either put up or shut up.Ô ÓDo you always have to be like this?Ô I paused in the middle of tucking my shirttail in. ÓYou want me any other way?Ô ÓSometimes I think so.Ô ÓThen screw you too, baby.Ô Her face went flat, the pain of my words knocking the expression from it. ÓYou didnÒt have to say that.Ô ÓNo? Then keep out of my business. Otherwise you stop being a broad and become a dame. IÒll do what I want to do and sometimes what I have to do. One thing I wonÒt do is succumb to sentimentality or the wishful thinking of a woman. When IÒm working, stay off my back. You know my business so donÒt try to steer me clear. The woman isnÒt born and her motherÒs already dead who can do that trick. IÒll run things my own way and if you donÒt give me credit for being an old soldier type with twenty years over your fair head, then regroup your forces, kid, and find another guy who will bow and scrape and do it when you tell him to go potty. Clear, doll?Ô Rondine studied me a moment, smiled, and her shoulders moved in a gesture of resignation. But her eyes were hard. In her own way she was a pro too×a young pro, but she had kills behind her and they had to start somewhere. ÓClear, Tiger.Ô She turned the knob, opened the door and glanced over her shoulder. ÓStill love me?Ô ÓStick around and youÒll find out the hard way.Ô ÓYou and your play on words,Ô she said. Hal Randolph had arranged the inquisition very neatly. I had gone this route too many times before with him to try intimidation. Now the props were staged to impress me. The head men from three agencies were there, faces I knew well, a pair of immaculately groomed court-reporter types perched behind their machines ready to note every word spoken so that they could be analyzed in detail later, and Randolph at the head of the conference table forcing an amiable smile designed to put me at ease. I caught Charlie CorbinetÒs eyes from his corner position at the far end, the half-smile in them and winked in his direction. I took the only empty chair at the table, pulled it out and sat down crookedly, feeling the bite in my side again. ÓWell, gentlemen?Ô I said. Both stenographers took it down immediately. Randolph cleared his throat and nodded absently before he gave me a second glance, and this time the almost amiable expression was gone. ÓIÒll come directly to the point. Mr. Corbinet has repeated your conversation to us. In view of the recent. . . situation, we would like to hear it firsthand.Ô ÓSure,Ô I told him. ÓIn detail?Ô ÓFrom the beginning.Ô It didnÒt take more than three minutes to lay it out. In three minutes something heavy seemed to hang over the room like a death shroud and the faces of the assembly were drawn tight. The stenographers had taken it down verbatim and were the only ones who didnÒt seem to make much out of it. Maybe they had done it too often or heard too much and the lines were just another paragraph in the book of the fall of mankind. When I finished Randolph sat there a moment, his breathing audible in the silence, then: ÓThere was one thing you left out, Tiger.Ô ÓOh?Ô ÓYou indicated to Mr. Corbinet that you knew how to locate Louis Agrounsky.Ô ÓNot quite, Randolph,Ô I said. ÓWhat did you say then?Ô ÓI said I thought I knew how to find him.Ô ÓPerhaps youÒd better be more explicit.Ô ÓNot just yet buddy.Ô I twisted around in the chair and leaned back, grinning at him a little. ÓLike you told me some time ago, IÒm walking a thin little line and one slip and over I go. If you can give me a push youÒll even help a little and the end results would be pleasing to a lot of people here and there. YouÒd like to see Martin Grady fall along with the rest of us and if that ever happens the political stock of a lot of boobs would soar. Right?Ô I had all the eyes on me now and Randolph didnÒt say a word. ÓLet me lay it on the line, gentlemen. My neckÒs out as far as yours and probably a lot further. WeÒre in this together whether you like it or not and until this picture is cleared up weÒd better start sleeping in the same bed or take the chance of being splashed all over whatÒs left of the U.S.A.Ô The few coughs and quick looks that passed around the table meant that they got the point. The one closest to me, whose seemingly unimportant job in Washington was a cover for his internal security position, held up his hand for attention. ÓMr. Mann Å youÒre suggesting a merger of forces in this case ... or a hands-off attitude regarding your rather unique operation?Ô ÓA merger, Mr. Delaney. We canÒt afford to be at odds on this.Ô ÓWhat makes you think we need your organization?Ô ÓBecause we can operate at levels you either canÒt or wonÒt,Ô I told him bluntly. ÓYou know damn well Martin Grady operates on an international basis and isnÒt forced to work on a limited budget. Before you can get an appropriation to purchase certain necessities
. . like information ... we can have it bought. We already have men inside legations and embassies and whatever news flows out of an enemy country filters through our hands as fast as it does yours. But that isnÒt the end of it. WeÒre talking about Louis Agrounsky. He must be found. I think I can find him.Ô ÓI see.Ô ÓDo you?Ô Delaney stared at me hard, his forefinger tapping the edge of the table silently. ÓYou can give us the benefit of your thought, Mr. Mann.Ô ÓNo. YouÒll get the benefit of what I find out, but IÒm keeping the edge. I want the heat off our group and the advantage of being able to draw from your man power and resources if necessary.Ô ÓWhere does that leave us?Ô Delaney asked softly. ÓStranded,Ô I said, Óunless you do it my way.Ô Hal Randolph had that florid look back again, the strain of what he was thinking making the muscles in his neck bulge. I was pushing them all the way and not leaving them open for a lot of empty discussion. It was Charlie Corbinet who quieted the hum down when he said, ÓI would like to make a suggestion.Ô Heads swiveled toward him and waited. Unlike most of them, Charlie was more than a desk supervisor. He worked in the field when he had to and had never lost his touch. He had been on the big hot ones with the best of them and was rarely outguessed. Randolph said, ÓWell?Ô ÓThis wonÒt be the first ... or last Å time strange bed partners have come together. My association with Mr. Mann is nothing new to anybody present and the results have justified the arrangement. Whether we like it or not, weÒll have to go along with him or go without his services. If his capabilities are lost to us through lack of cooperation on our part it will be to our disadvantage.Ô ÓIf I get knocked off,Ô I interrupted. ÓExactly,Ô he replied. ÓI realize that if we do agree to a union with the Martin Grady forces certain political powers will lose their ability to censure or eliminate the Grady machine in the face of public opinion ... if this ever reaches that stage. In effect, itÒs a stalemate. I suggest we go along with Tiger here, on the agreement that no word of this merger leaks out. It wonÒt hurt to save face if we have to.Ô Hal Randolph snorted at that, but lost the silent vote. It was over as quickly as it started. I had made my point the hard way. I stood up, wincing a little. ÓOne more thing,Ô I told them. ÓIÒd like two signed copies of this informal agreement. One to be delivered to Martin Grady himself. IÒll keep the other copy.Ô Delaney smiled a little, his eyes sparkling. ÓYes, I imagine you would. And we would like some protection too.Ô ÓName it.Ô ÓOn a previous occasion you operated in a reserve officer capacity for a short time. I suggest we renew that arrangement for a specified period in the event we want to pull the stops out on you. It might keep you on your toes to realize that a court-martial can always hang over your head if you get too far out of line.Ô I put my hat on and shoved the chair back. ÓNo trouble, gentlemen,Ô I said. ÓI was just going to make the same suggestion myself.Ô I met Charlie Corbinet in the Blue Ribbon Restaurant on Forty-fourth just off Seventh Avenue at five in the afternoon. The afteroffice crowd had just started to filter in, but I had a corner table in the bar by myself and a cold beer to keep me company while I waited. He slid in, ordered the same and said, ÓYouÒre a cagey bastard, Tiger.Ô ÓYeah, I know. HowÒd it come out?Ô ÓAll your way. IÒm appointed the official baby sitter and youÒre to report through me.Ô He gave me a dubious grin and added, ÓYouÒre getting closer all the time. YouÒre practically an agency man.Ô ÓScrew that stuff.Ô ÓWell, youÒre in the Army now. TheyÒve expedited your papers. YouÒd better behave. Delaney wasnÒt kidding about a court-martial. DonÒt slip up.Ô ÓI havenÒt in twenty years.Ô ÓYou almost did a few months ago.Ô Rondine again. He meant the thing with her. ÓBut I didnÒt.Ô ÓLetÒs say you were lucky.Ô ÓThatÒs why IÒm still alive.Ô Charlie nodded and took a sip of his beer. ÓWhatÒs your first step?Ô ÓTrying to get your department to give me all the details on Louis Agrounsky.Ô ÓYouÒll get that tomorrow. That wasnÒt what I meant.Ô ÓHow long can I have before you file a report on my activities?Ô ÓAt your discretion. I know you can play the game. Maybe the others donÒt but weÒre the same breed, or have you forgotten?Ô I laughed and finished my beer. The waiter asked if I wanted another but I waved him off. I said, ÓI havenÒt forgotten anything.Ô ÓThen?Ô ÓThereÒs a funny little guy who doesnÒt belong in the picture, yet heÒs there.Ô Charlie saw the point immediately. ÓDoug Hamilton?Ô ÓVito Salvi killed him along with the other two. His abduction was deliberate and that torture murder had a purpose. I want to know why.Ô ÓYou could have asked Salvi,Ô Charlie said quietly. ÓNot when I was shot to hell and bleeding all over the floor. I wasnÒt taking any chances on Salvi getting me after I dropped in a faint, old friend. I wasnÒt thinking fast at that point or I might have sweated it out a little, but whatÒs done is done.Ô ÓSure,Ô Charlie nodded. ÓIncidentally, youÒre off the hook on that one. They dreamed up a cutie to cover those kills.Ô ÓIÒll read about it in the papers.Ô ÓAll part of the terms of the agreement you made.Ô ÓGreat.Ô My voice sounded sour. I wasnÒt very happy about the bed I had made or the others who were going to sleep in it with me. I laid a couple of bucks on the table and got up. ÓIÒll call you, Charlie,Ô I said. ÓIÒll be waiting.Ô I had scheduled Don Lavois to meet me at Ernie BentleyÒs lab at nine with the information I requested. I got there a little early and caught Ernie with a fresh pot of coffee and let him pour me one in a beaker. It was black and thick, almost a distant cousin of some of the explosives he was expert at concocting. He handed me a bag of doughnuts and perched on the edge of a work table. ÓHear you have a big priority job going.Ô ÓGrady set any limitations on you?Ô ÓNone. Fullest cooperation. I passed on the authorization to London and Paris and theyÒre set to roll if they have to. Martin sent a draft through to the bank to cover any emergency.Ô He took half a doughnut, dunked it and stuffed it in his mouth. ÓWhatÒs the procedure?Ô ÓRight now, I havenÒt any. When Don gets in IÒll probably know the direction itÒll take.Ô I checked my watch, found it almost nine when the buzzer flashed from downstairs and Ernie touched the unlock button beside his desk. Don Lavois was a big guy, wide in the shoulders with one of those pleasant faces that had seen a lot of action. There was a slight twist to his nose and a little scar tissue gave a lift to one eyebrow. A fine white line, nearly unnoticeable, traced a curve down his cheek where he had taken a razor slash when we were on the same job below the border. He was a good guy to have around Å one of the original bunch of whom so few were left any more. He grinned and stuck out his hand. ÓHi, buddy,Ô he said. ÓNice to be back.Ô I wrapped my hand around his and squeezed hard, my mouth splitting in a smile. ÓLetÒs hope you think so when you hear the poop.Ô DonÒs shrug was a masterpiece of understatement. ÓAfter that last bash anything will come easy. How many we, have going on this one?Ô ÓWeÒll do the initial fieldwork,Ô I told him. ÓSit down while I fill you in. Want some coffee?Ô ÓSure.Ô While he sipped the scalding brew, I gave him the situation to date, watching his face for any reaction. He was as good as ever, never changing expression, simply absorbing the details without question until I had finished, then giving a slight nod of understanding. But behind his eyes was that touch of ice that meant he recognized the greater implications and the possibilities that would result if we missed the target. He put down the graduated jar he had been drinking out of and stuck a cigarette in his mouth, ÓA rough one, Tiger.Ô ÓDamn rough.Ô ÓWhere do you want me to start?Ô ÓBacktrack Vito Salvi. He would have done all the groundwork on Louis Agrounsky and if he had any leads, weÒll need them.Ô Don looked up from the match he had cupped in his hand, ÓIf he had to chop up Doug Hamilton and those other two then he didnÒt have much, did he?Ô ÓMaybe he was just insuring his information. Salvi was an old pro, buddy. I canÒt see him giving me the entire story no matter how far the chips were down. He still would have held something back. He knew I was in the same league so he gave me more than he would have tossed to anybody else, but he was still on the other side and there are a few rules youÒll stick to no matter what.Ô ÓOkay, Tiger, so IÒll run it out. Then what?Ô ÓPlay it by ear. IÒm going after Hamilton. HeÒs the sour note in the concert. If you cross swords with I.A.T.S. or t
he locals, get right to me. WeÒll get cooperation from the police and the Washington agencies up to a point, but donÒt push the issue if you donÒt have to.Ô Don grinned at me again. ÓDo I get to meet any beautiful blondes?Ô ÓKnock it off.Ô ÓI was just thinking about Panama.Ô ÓSo I was lucky.Ô ÓBrother!Ô he said with a short laugh. Ernie Bentley gave us both a disgusted snort and shook his head. ÓYou let Martin Grady hear that kind of talk and youÒll wind up behind a filing cabinet. For two guys with all the field experience youÒve had you still play kid games.Ô Don glanced at him, smiling. ÓYou know what they say about all work and no play, Ernie.Ô ÓHow many times has a woman ever shot you?Ô Ernie asked him. ÓOnce.Ô ÓI heard different.Ô ÑThe other wasnÒt in the line of duty.Ô Don grinned again. He nodded toward me and said, ÓAsk him the same question now.Ô ÓShut up,Ô I said. I looked at my watch. ÓLetÒs get things rolling.Ô Doug Hamilton had lived in Manhattan in a four-room apartment that was one of the newer eyesores in a rebuilt city: Five-years ago the site had been a row of great restaurants frequented by those who had loved the city and made it a modern wonder of the world. Now it was an index system of people in a massive complex of commercialism whose character had gone from blood and flesh to concrete and steel. The personnel folder Don had delivered to me on Hamilton listed his salary from Belt-Aire Electronics at two hundred dollars a week and estimated another one-fifty from other contracts he handled through his office. His agency was small but efficient and in business since the end of 1946. Recommendations had come from five other major companies who had used his service with satisfaction and all the checks Belt-Aire had put through gave him a clean bill. The only thing wrong was that the cheapest one-and-a-half-room apartment in the building went for three-fifty a month and Doug Hamilton had one of the most expensive layouts in the place whose advertised rental was almost ten thousand dollars a year. Six months before he had lived in a fifty-dollar flat in Brooklyn. When the doorman called the superintendent into the lobby for me I got one knowing look and didnÒt have to bother with explanations. He was old and wise and had seen too many people like me and judged accordingly, except that this time he mistook me for a cop. ÓArenÒt you people ever going to call it quits?Ô ÓÒShortly.Ô ÓTheyÒve photographed the place, theyÒve dusted it, IÒve talked to a couple dozen other cops and I canÒt think of a thing to tell you I havenÒt told them.Ô He waved his hand aimlessly toward the street outside. ÓWell, you know how it is. Just a job,Ô I said. He nodded, hunching his shoulders in a shrug. ÓSure, but whatÒs to see? No other tenants on that floor yet. He paid rent in advance, never bothered anybody, no parties or stuff like that. I liked him.Ô ÓSomebody didnÒt.Ô The super motioned with his head for the doorman to go back to his post, then said softly, ÓWhatÒs it all about? All I get is that he died.Ô ÓHe was killed.Ô ÓI figured that. He was a private dick too. I saw a lot of his outgoing mail with the agency name on the envelopes. What happened?Ô ÓNobody knows just yet. He got involved with something too big for him.Ô ÓSo what do I do with the apartment? He was paid up for a year, in cash yet.Ô ÓCheck with your lawyer. How about letting me see the place?Ô He pointed to the elevator. ÓBe my guest. ItÒs still open. Top floor.Ô ÓThanks.Ô The elevator opened into a small private lobby with the floor blanketed in a thick nylon pile rug, the walls boasting finely framed oils by some good but obscure artist. The door to the apartment swung open all the way and the smell of cigar smoke still hung in the air. I walked in, stood in the doorway a moment and looked around. Nobody had bothered to shut the lights off. Doug Hamilton had rented the apartment unfurnished, but wasnÒt responsible for selecting his accouterments. All the earmarks of a decorator were there×one who had unlimited funds to work with. Somewhere along the way Hamilton had made it. Then he had to pay for it. The hard way. I knew I wouldnÒt find anything there. In a way I wasnÒt looking for anything either. All I wanted was an insight into the man I had never seen until he was dead, strapped out on a torture table with the handiwork of an expert etched into his flesh. For ten minutes I walked around the place, opening cabinets and drawers, seeing the accumulation of a person taking on a new life. He had had everything a man could ask for except living and even that wasnÒt much. All the information Don Lavois had dug up showed Hamilton to have been a frugal liver and it still showed here. Two quarts of scotch, one opened, two suits, a half dozen shirts and shorts with socks to go with them, a few odds and ends and that was all. It was as if he had just moved in, yet he had been there several months. Over all lay the powder smudges the police had spread and the evidence of their search. Methodical and thorough. The kill hadnÒt taken place here so there wasnÒt much to look for. Routine, with everything they found held in check until it matched something else. Some of his work Hamilton had done at home and one corner of the living room was taken up with a mahogany desk and a small filing cabinet, but the files held nothing more than carbons already filed with his employers, receipted bills and notes on planned activities. Out of curiosity I fingered through the top drawer looking for the folder on Belt-Aire Electronics. It was there, all right. Just the folder. I pulled it out of the alphabetical sequence and looked at it. Not too long ago it had been well filled. The gauge lines at the bottom of it had been creased on the last one to ac-commodate a good half inch of papers. I stuck it back where it came from and pushed the drawer shut. Either Doug Hamilton had kept his present employerÒs information more confidential than the others or someone else was interested in what went on in Belt-Aire Electronics. On the way out I stopped at the desk where the super was thumbing through some papers, waited until two women passed by us and said, ÓDid anyone make arrangements to forward his mail?Ô ÓNo ... no one mentioned it.Ô ÓAnything come in for him yet?Ô ÓNot today.Ô ÓHold whatever shows up. YouÒll be notified what to do with itÔ ÓSure thing,Ô he said, then added, ÓThink I should button up the apartment?Ô I gave a small shrug. ÓThere will be a court action in a few days and youÒll be notified. Meanwhile you might as well keep the place locked. I donÒt know who would be interested in seeing the place anyway.Ô ÓWell, I could rent ÅÔ ÓTake it easy. He paid in advance, didnÒt he?Ô The guy looked a little sheepish, passed it off and went back to his papers. I went outside and waved down a cab and gave him the address of Belt-Aire Electronics.
Mickey Spillane - [Tiger Mann] Page 2
