Gradually I led the conversation around to the tennis match that night and got her mind off what she was thinking. It wasn’t long afterward that we pulled into the private drive of the Bellemy estate. I thought we were early, but there were two dozen others there before us. A row of cars ran along the side of the mansion and one of the twins came out to meet us. I didn’t know which one it was until she said, “Hello, sissy.”
“Hello, Mary,” I said through a smile. She had on a halter and a pair of shorts that left nothing to the imagination. Both pieces were so tight every line of her body showed through and she knew it. I couldn’t get my eyes off her legs, and walking up to the house she kept brushing against me.
That had to cease. I shifted Myrna’s grip over to keep a barrier between us and Mary broke out into a giggle. At the house she turned Myrna over to a maid, then turned to me. “Didn’t you bring some sport clothes along?”
“Yup. But all the sports I intend to indulge in will be done at the bar.”
“Nuts. Go get in a pair of slacks. There’s a golf game to be held behind the house and a lot of the kids are looking for partners for a tennis game.”
“For Pete’s sake, I’m no athlete.”
Mary stood off a few feet and looked me over from top to bottom. “You look like an athlete if I ever saw one.”
“What kind?” I joked.
“A bed athlete.” Her eyes said that she wasn’t joking.
She walked back to the car with me to get my clothes. When we got in the house she showed me to a room, an oversized thing with a huge four-poster smack in the middle of it.
Mary couldn’t wait until I closed the door. She flung herself at me and opened her mouth. Hell, couldn’t disappoint the hostess, so I kissed her.
“Now scram while I get dressed,” I told her.
Her mouth went into a pout. “Why?”
“Look,” I tried to be convincing, “I don’t get undressed in front of women.”
“Since when?” she asked impishly.
“It was dark then,” I told her. “Besides, it’s too early for that.”
I got another one of those sexy smiles. Her eyes were begging me to undress her. “Okay ... sissy.” She closed the door behind her and I heard that deep-throated laugh.
The gang outside was making a racket and I poked my head out the window to see what was up. Directly beneath me two underweight males were having a hair-pulling match while four others egged them on. What a place. The two boys hit the dirt together and followed by a slap or two. I grinned. A couple of pansies trying to decide who would be Queen of the May. I drew a pitcher of water from the sink and let it go on their blonde heads.
That ended the fight. They both let out a falsetto scream and got up running. The gang saw me and howled. It was a good gag.
Mary met me downstairs. She was lounging against the porch railing smoking a cigarette. I came out in slacks and a sweat shirt and tossed her a hello. Myrna joined us at the same time swinging a tennis racket against her legs. I could see that Mary was disappointed at not getting me alone. The three of us walked across the lawn to the courts with Mary hanging on to my arm. Before we quite reached there another edition of her stepped out of a group of players and waved to us. Esther Bellemy.
She was another to make your mouth drool. She recognized me immediately and offered a firm handshake. Her manner was cool and reserved. I saw what Charlotte meant when she said Esther wasn’t like her sister. However, there seemed to be no resentment or jealousy. Esther had her admirers, too. We were introduced all around to a lot of people whose names I forgot as soon as I met them, and Mary carted me off to a vacant court for a game of singles.
Tennis wasn’t in my line, she found out. After a hectic ten minutes I had batted the balls over the fence and we gathered them up and put them in a box and laid the rackets down. Mary sat on a bench beside me with her brown legs stuck out in front of her while I cooled off.
“Why are we wasting time out here, Mike? Your room is so much nicer.”
Some dame. “You rush things, Mary. Why aren’t you more like your sister?”
She gave me a short laugh. “Maybe I am.”
“How do you mean?”
“Oh, nothing, I guess. But Esther keeps her eyes open, too. She’s no virgin. ”
“How do you know?”
Mary giggled and folded her knees under her hands. “She keeps a diary.”
“I bet yours is a lot thicker,” I said.
“Uh-huh, lots.”
I took her hand and pulled her from the bench. “Come on, show me where the bar is.”
We took a flagstone path back to the house and entered through a pair of French windows. The bar was built off a trophy room that was well packed with cups and medals, decorated with live-oak paneling and blown-up photographs of the Bellemy sisters winning everything from a golf game to a ski jump. They certainly were an active pair. The curious thing about it was that they didn’t like publicity. I wondered where the rumor started that they were looking for husbands. Husbands that would satisfy, maybe.
I guess Mary gave me up as hopeless for a while. She left me with a bartender who sat at the end of the thirty-foot bar reading a stack of comic magazines, getting up only long enough to pour me a fresh drink every time I emptied my glass.
Several times I had company, but not for long. Myrna came in once, then left after a few pleasant words. Some other tootsies tried their hand at making a strange face but were dragged off by their boy friends who chased them into the bar. One of the pansies I doused did his bit, too, and all it took to get him out was a strong hand on the seat of his shorts and another around his neck. The whole deal was getting very monotonous. I wished Charlotte would get here. I thought I’d have a nice time with Mary, but compared to Charlotte she was a flop. Mary only had sex. Charlotte had that—plus a lot more.
I managed to sneak out without the bartender seeing me and found my room. There I changed back to my street clothes, patted old junior under my arm and lay down on the bed. Now I felt normal.
The drinks did more to me than I thought. I didn’t pass out, I simply fell asleep, but quick. The next thing I knew someone was shaking me and I looked up into the prettiest face in the world. Before my eyes were all the way open, Charlotte kissed me, then mussed my hair.
“Is this the way you greet me? I thought you’d be at the gate waiting for me with open arms.”
“Hello, beautiful,” I said.
I pulled her down on the bed and kissed her. “What time is it?” She looked at her watch.
“Seven-thirty.”
“Holy cow! I slept the whole day out practically!”
“I’ll say you have. Now get dressed and come downstairs for dinner. I want to see Myrna.”
We got up and I saw her to the door, then washed my face and tried to smooth the wrinkles out of my coat. When I thought I was presentable enough I went downstairs. Mary saw me and waved me over. “You’re sitting by me tonight,” she told me.
The crowd was beginning to file in and I found the place card with my name on it. Charlotte was sitting directly opposite me at any rate. I felt much better at that. The two of them ought to be fun unless Mary started playing kneesies under the table.
Charlotte sat down with a smile and Myrna was next to her. Through the appetizer they spoke to each other earnestly, laughing occasionally over some private joke.
I glanced down the table to see if there was anyone I knew. One face seemed fairly familiar, although I couldn’t place it. He was a short, skinny guy, dressed in a dark grey flannel. His only conversation was with the heavy-set woman opposite him. There was so much chatter at the table I couldn’t get a line on what they were talking about, but I saw him sneak a few side glances my way.
He happened to turn his full face toward me for a moment, then I recognized him. He was one of the men I had seen going into Madam June’s call house the night of the raid.
I nudged Mary and she quit talking to the
guy on her other side long enough to look my way. “Who’s the squirt down at the end?” I asked, motioning with my fork.
Mary picked him out and said, “Why, that’s Harmon Wilder, our attorney. He’s the one who invests our money for us. Why?”
“Just curious. I thought I recognized him.”
“You should. He used to be one of the best criminal lawyers in the country before he gave it up for a private practice in something less sensational.”
I said, “Oh,” then returned to my food. Charlotte had found my foot under the table and tapped it with her toe. Behind the table the lawn was moon-lit—perfect night. I’d be glad when supper was over.
Mary tried me out in conversation all too suggestive. I saw Charlotte give her a glance that was full of fire, winked, then cut Mary off pretty sharply. She sort of got the idea that something was up between me and Charlotte and whispered into my ear. “I’ll get you tonight, big stuff—after she’s gone.”
She yelped when I stuck my elbow in her ribs.
Dinner ended when one of the fruits fell out of his chair at the table’s end. Right after that there was a lot of noise and the two tennis players who were to be featured in the game that night stood up and toasted success to each other with glasses of milk.
I managed to get through to Charlotte and took Myrna and her out to the courts together. A lot of cars were driving up, probably some neighbors invited just for the game. The floodlights had been turned on over the sunbaked clay, and bleacher seats had been erected sometime during the latter part of the afternoon while I was asleep.
There was a general scramble for seats and we missed. Charlotte and Myrna spread their handkerchiefs down on the grass along the border of the playing field and we waited while the crowd got six deep behind us. I had never seen a real tennis game, but from what I had seen, I didn’t think there were that many people who liked the game.
There were announcements over a portable loud-speaker and the players took their places. Then they went into action. I had more fun watching the spectators’ heads going back and forth like a bunch of monkeys on sticks than I did the game itself.
These boys were pretty good. They worked up a terrific sweat but they kept after that ball, running themselves ragged. Occasionally there would be a spectacular play and the crowd would let out a cheer. On a high bench, the referee announced the score.
Myrna kept pressing her hand to her head, then between sets she excused herself to Charlotte and me saying that she wanted to go to the cloakroom and get an aspirin.
No sooner had she left when Mary plunked herself down in the same spot beside me and started her routine. I waited for Charlotte to start something, but she merely smiled grimly and let me fight it out myself.
Mary tapped her on the shoulder. “Can I borrow your man a few minutes? I want him to meet some people.”
“Sure, go ahead.” Charlotte winked gaily at me and made believe she was pouting, but she knew she had me. From now on Charlotte had nothing to worry about. Just the same I felt like throttling Mary. Just sitting there had been nice.
We wormed out through the gang who had moved up to take new places and stretch themselves between sets. Mary took me around to the other side, then started walking toward the woods.
“Where’re the people you wanted me to meet?” I asked.
Her hand groped for mine in the darkness. “Don’t be silly,” she answered. “I just want you to myself for a while.”
“Look, Mary,” I explained, “it’s no good. The other night was a mistake. Charlotte and I are engaged. I can’t be fooling around with you. It isn’t fair to either of you.”
She tucked her arm under mine. “Oh, but you don’t have to marry me. I don’t want that. It takes all the fun out of it.”
What was I going to do with a woman like that? “Listen,” I told her, “you’re a nice kid and I like you a lot, but you are a serious complication to me.”
She let my arm go. We were under a tree now, and it was pitch black. I could barely see the outline of her face. The moon which not so long ago had been out in full brilliance had disappeared behind a cloud. I kept talking to her, trying to dissuade her from putting a line on me, but she didn’t answer. She hummed snatches from a tune I heard her breathing in the darkness, but that was all.
When I had about exhausted myself, she said, “Will you kiss me just once more if I promise to let you alone?”
I breathed a little easier. “Sure, honey. Just one more kiss.”
Then I stretched out my arms to hold her to kiss, and I got the shock of my life. The little devil had taken off all her clothes in the darkness.
That kiss was like molten lava. I couldn’t push her away, nor did I want to now. She clung to me like a shadow, squirming and pulling at me. The sound of the crowd cheering the game a hundred yards away dimmed to nothingness and all I could hear was the roaring in my ears.
The game was almost over when we got back. I scrubbed the lipstick away from my mouth and dusted off my clothes. Mary saw her sister and was gracious enough to let me alone for a while, so while I still had the chance I skirted the crowd and tried to find Charlotte. She was where I had left her, only she had gotten tired of sitting down. She and a tall youngster were splitting a Coke together. That made me mad.
Hell, I was a fine one to be pulling a jealousy stunt after what I just did. I called to her and she came back to me.
“Where have you been?”
“Fighting,” I lied, “fighting for my honor.”
“You look it. How did you make out? Or shouldn’t I ask?”
“I did it all right. It took time though. You been here all the time?”
“Yep. Just like a good little wife, I sit home while my husband is out with other women,” she laughed.
The shout that ended the tennis game came simultaneously with the scream from the house. That scream stifled any cheer that might have been given. It rang out in the night again and again, then dwindled off to a low moan.
I dropped Charlotte’s hand and ran for the house. The bartender was standing in the doorway as white as a sheet. He could hardly talk. He pointed up the stairs and I took them two at a time.
The first floor opened on the cloakroom, an affair as big as a small ballroom. The maid was huddled on the floor, out like a light. Beyond her was Myrna, a bullet hole clean through her chest. She still had her hands clutched futilely against her breasts as though to protect herself.
I felt her pulse. She was dead.
Downstairs the crowd was pounding across the lawn. I shouted to the bartender to shut the doors, then grabbed the phone and got the gatekeeper. I told him to close the gates and not let anyone out, hung up, and dashed downstairs. I picked out three men in overalls whom I had taken for gardeners and asked them who they were.
“Gardener,” one said. The other was a handyman on the estate and the third was his helper.
“Got any guns around here?” They nodded. “Six shot guns and a 30.30 in the library,” the handyman said.
“Then get ’em,” I ordered. “There’s been a murder upstairs and the killer is someplace on the grounds. Patrol the estate and shoot anybody you see trying to get away. Understand?”
The gardener started to argue, but when I pulled my badge on him, he and the others took off for the library, got the guns, returned a minute later and shot out the door.
The crowd was gathered in front. I stepped outside and held up my hand for silence. When I told them what had happened there were a few screams, a lot of nervous talk, and everyone in general had the jitters.
I held up my hand again. “For your own benefit you had better not try to leave. There are men posted with orders to shoot if anyone tries to run for it. If you are wise, you’ll find someone who was standing near by you during the game and have an alibi ready. Only don’t try to dummy one because it won’t work. Stay here on the porch where you can be reached at a moment’s notice.”
Charlotte came in the door, her
face white, and asked, “Who was it, Mike?”
“Myrna. The kid has nothing to worry about any more. She’s dead. And I have the killer right under my nose someplace.”
“Can I do something, Mike?”
“Yeah. Get the Bellemy sisters and bring them to me.”
When she went for them I called for the bartender. Shaking like a leaf he came over to me. “Who came in here?”
“I don’ see nobody, boss. I see one girl come in. I never see her come out ’cause she’s daid upstairs.”
“Were you here all the time?”
“Yassuh. All de time. I watch for the folks to come in heah for a drink. Then I goes to the bar.”
“What about the back door?”
“It’s locked, boss. Only way is in through heah. Don’ nobody come in ’cept de girl. She’s daid.”
“Quit saying that over and over,” I stormed. “Just answer my questions. Did you leave here for a second?”
“Nosuh, boss, not hardly a second.”
“What’s not hardly?”
The kid looked scared. He was afraid to commit himself one way or another. “Come on, speak up.”
“I got me a drink once, boss. Just beer, that’s all. Don’t tell Miss Bellemy.”
“Damn,” I said. That minute was time enough to let a murderer in here.
“How quickly did you come back? Wait a minute. Go in there and get a beer. Let me see how long it took you.” The bartender shuffled off while I timed him. Fifteen seconds later he was back with a bottle in his hand.
“Did you do it that fast before? Think now. Did you drink it here or in there?”
“Here, boss,” he said simply, pointing to an empty bottle on the floor. I yelled to him not to move, then ran for the back of the house. The place was built in two sections, this part an addition to the other. The only way in was through the French windows to the bar and the back door, or the one connecting door to the other section. The windows were bolted. So was the back door. The twin doors between the two sections of the building were firmly in place and locked. I looked for other possible entries, but there were none. If that were so I could still have the killer trapped somewhere inside.
The Mike Hammer Collection, Volume 1 Page 16
