The Death Dealers

by Mickey Spillane

  The image was gone, the reality was there. The nudity was gone too ... she was naked now, perfumed and slippery, searching, demanding, insisting upon the absolute fulfillment.

  The blood-red ruby was in my hand and I didn’t remember taking it from her.

  Hal Randolph had waited patiently for me. He could afford to. I could have avoided him by going down the stairwell but then there would have been another time and there was no point in avoiding him. When he saw me he pressed the buzzer for the elevator and we stood there together until it arrived, then rode down silently together.

  The lobby was almost deserted at that hour and those who were there were too alert to be guests and if you looked closely you could see the rise under their coats where the guns were slung. We walked out to the steps and watched the city in the only hours that it ever dozed and Randolph said, “You were supposed to stop in for a talk.”

  “I intended to.”

  He pulled a pack of butts from his pocket, shook one out and lit it. “We checked you out in that AmPet deal. Grady might have made a bad deal there.” His eyes took me in carefully to catch my reaction.

  “I doubt it. His lawyers are as good as your tax men.”

  “Maybe.” He shrugged unconcernedly. “There’s another problem. Lily Tornay. It took long enough for the story to get to us and some people are getting mad. We have the report on Edith Caine too.”

  “Don’t squeeze me, Hal. I can verify every minute of my time if I have to and I don’t want to get tied up.”

  “You may have to.”

  “Do I?”

  He flipped the unsmoked cigarette away in anger and it went out in a shower of sparks on the sidewalk. “Damn you, Tiger, it’s gone too far. We have to give in to the demands of that creep Teish because State wants it that way, but I don’t have to take too much crap from you.”

  “Drop it, Randolph. You know who you want. Every department in the country has a flyer out on Malcolm Turos, not me. I almost had him for you earlier and he broke loose, but ...”

  “Whatl”

  I gave it to him the way it had happened, enjoying the red that seemed to explode into his face. When I finished I said, “But don’t lay it on me, buddy. I’m a private citizen and not subject to departmental orders and there is no warrant out for my arrest. You can try anything you like, but you damn well know I’ll blow the whistle to the papers and this whole deal will turn into a propaganda piece for the Reds. If you don’t think I’ll save my skin any way I have to or shove something up your tail just to be lousy, then you don’t know me any more.”

  Randolph’s mouth tightened and he took out another cigarette and stuck it in his mouth without lighting it. He thought a moment, then twisted his lips in a nasty grin. “You made one mistake, Tiger. You asked for it and you got it.” He reached in his breast pocket and found an envelope, tapped it against his palm a moment and handed it to me. “Yours under protest. Temporary assignment to a section of the Army Intelligence. You do come under orders now. Sign two copies and keep one for youself.” He handed me a pen. “You’re cleared to carry that rod, but keep in mind the penalties that go with your active status now, and all I want to do is catch you in an infraction of the rules and you’ve had it.”

  I laughed at him, signed the copies, and handed them and the pen back. “I’ll have to tell Teish thanks. He knows how to put the pressure on.”

  Randolph ignored the sarcasm, his voice cold. “We’ll want a report on your intentions and your actions. You are to make no attempt to do more than you’re told to. Tomorrow night you’ll be at that goddamn party with the rest of us in a protective capacity only. I.A.T.S. has the full picture of Grady’s AmPet operation but you aren’t working for him now. I’m hoping either one of you make the move that gives us a chance to slam you.”

  “The boys in Washington have tried long enough,” I reminded him. “But how the hell are ten-thousand-a-year clerk types going to buck the brains of a guy who can make thirty million a year? That’s the trouble with this country ... some damn petty politician or pseudo-statesman or senator who talked his way from sharecropping to D.C. thinks he can cross minds with the people who really made this country great. They hate because they’re jealous and try to stop the only ones who can keep us on top. They organize their tiny minds and legislate control of business and industries they couldn’t get a job in as janitors and the population squirms under their heels. Brother ... you have a case. The big ones are getting tired. They’re doing something about it. They’re going to make sure we win despite all the damn stupidity and fear you find in the mice.”

  “But not you,” Randolph said. “You won’t have a thing to do with it.”

  “Try me and see,” I said. I shoved my copy of the orders in my pocket and went on down the steps. Behind me I heard Randolph let out a laugh and didn’t like it. He should have been fuming, but he wasn’t.

  From the hotel I called Newark Control and told them what had happened at the Gardens. Virgil Adams questioned me in detail, his voice sleepy, got it down on the tape for transcription later, then said, “Johnson called from London. Interpol’s all het up about the Lily Tornay thing and another agent’s on the way over.”

  “It’ll keep. She told me Tedesco’s alive. What’s that bit?”

  “Correct. Pete Moore made a contact and they’re both holing up somewhere in the hills. Pete took a short-wave transmitter in with him ... limited power so he only had time for one broadcast and that was terse.”

  “Some local dynamite expert was knocked off. He do it?”

  “Negative. That was a Soviet action. They have a team in there and are using that as an excuse to hunt down Pete and Teddy. Interpol was involved but got out in a hurry when they saw what was developing. Pete’s staying with Teddy ... he was hit in the thigh and can’t get around.”

  “How does it look?”

  “Rough.”

  “Can they make it?”

  “Pete signaled R-1 which means they haven’t a chance the way things are. All borders are clamped down and nobody wants to touch the situation. It’s a real powder keg, Tiger.”

  “Somebody has to go in after them.”

  “Impossible and not authorized. We can’t afford it. The only one who can change things is Teish. One word from him can stop everything.”

  “Okay, Virg, you’ll get the word.”

  “When? Those guys can’t hang on much longer. It’s a real scramble. If it were a city they’d have a chance, but not in hills they’re unfamiliar with and with those damn natives like bloodhounds.”

  “Tomorrow night. I’ll get it for you.”

  “I hope so.”

  I hung up, pounding my fist into my palm. One way or another, I had to squeeze Teish. Each push had to be calculated because if it went wrong he could lean in the opposite direction. He was out after his own ends and meant to get them. He had what everybody wanted and if he thought one side was trying to take it from him he’d jump to the other for his own protection.

  As late as it was I called Ernie Bentley at his home and got him out of the sack. He yawned and said, “Don’t you ever sleep, Tiger?”

  “When it’s necessary. Did you get Lennie Byrnes set?”

  “He’s in. It cost, but he’ll be ready. He’s been double-checking back with your girl but everything’s tight. Talbot was called off on another deal and left a woman with her who’s an agent for their embassy. Lennie didn’t want to take any chances so he got Frankie Hill to stay on the street outside. Those dupe shots of Turos help any?”

  “They got me a little edge and off the hook a bit. The guy isn’t going clean like the pictures show.”

  “Didn’t think he would. After you left I made up some more and retouched them with assorted hair and facial disguises. You want to pick them up?”

  “Let’s expedite matters. Have a runner drop them off with Charlie Corbinet. He’ll know what to do with them. Get to it the first thing.”

  “Done. Need anything?�
��

  “Just sleep. I’ll check with you tomorrow.”

  I put the phone back and started getting ready for bed. I checked my coat pockets before I took it off. In the right-hand one was the blood-red ruby and I put it on the night table. I still didn’t see how she had kept it in her navel.

  chapter 8

  I awoke with the rain beating against the window, coming in the gap at the sill in a fine spray. It was noon, but the sky was a dirty gray that roiled at the tops of the buildings, swallowing their upper levels, seeming to dissolve them before they were even digested.

  For a few minutes I lay there, trying to recapture the thought that brought me into wakefulness. It had come out of the recesses of my memory, tapped me lightly demanding recognition, then fled before I could lay hands on it and lay back there out of sight like a dark blob. In front of it was the face of Malcolm Turos grinning at me. No, it wasn’t a grin, it was a silent laugh of derision.

  Sometimes it happens that way. I knew that elusive thought was the end of a thread that could lead to him. Someplace it was offered to me and I had rejected it. It had come and gone in an instant, captured by an involuntary sensory process, but lost in the unconscious mind that emerged only when there was no control.

  I rolled out of bed, shaved and dressed, then went downstairs for coffee. When I finished I climbed in a phone booth and called Dick Gallagher. Earlier he had gotten copies of Ernie Bentley’s retouched photos of Turos and had them distributed, but as yet there was no news.

  Charlie Corbinet didn’t have anything else to add except warn me that something new was in the wind concerning the Senate committee’s investigation of Martin Grady. He couldn’t put a finger on it, but the word was spreading that the committee had an angle to work on now. I wasn’t worried about Grady protecting himself so I thanked him and hung up.

  I went back to the desk and picked up the compact Ernie had sent over, signed out for it and examined the miniature recorder enclosed under the thin mirror. Lennie would have one like it on him when he was in the hotel and might be able to pick up something useful. It was an outside chance, but you had to cover all bets.

  At a newsstand I picked up a morning edition of the paper and scanned through it. The front page had a shot of the body on the sidewalk outside the Stacy, listing the person as a suicide, an out-of-work man despondent and sick who somehow got to the roof undetected and stayed there until he had worked up nerve enough to jump. He had narrowly missed hitting several people walking below.

  The other man was reported to be an accidental death that occurred while he was fixing a television set. The explanation was brief and sufficiently vague to invite little curiosity. Although his name was given, there was no mention of his prior prison record. I.A.T.S. had done a beautiful cover-up and it was unlikely that any more would be said. Even the guests in the room when the attempt was made on Teish’s life were unaware of what had happened. It was too fast and their attention was centered somewhere else. Being hustled from the room was only natural under the circumstances and the less said the better. That type was inclined to say only what they were told to say and weren’t offering anything for free.

  Although I went over every item in the paper from front to back, there was not even a squib about Lily Tornay. She lived and died anonymously, her death buried in the police files, and if the case were never closed there still would be nothing written about her except in a letter to her family if she had one.

  It was the nature of the business. Like the Air Corps song, you live in fame and go down in flame. Nobody saw you go. There was nothing left to see anyway.

  I pulled the collar of my trench coat up around my ears while the rain dripped down off the brim of my hat. The taxis were filled going by, the drivers happy with the unending business, never having to cruise for a fare, faces blankly ignoring those who didn’t make it in time as they discharged passengers, friendly only to those already inside.

  Except for the few equipped with raincoats or umbrellas hugging the sides of the buildings to stay out of the driving wet, I had the sidewalk to myself. I turned west and started walking toward the U.N. building complex whose main structure still rose like a giant air conditioner over the side of the city, not caring whether I got drenched or not.

  My mind kept reaching for that evasive little piece of information that danced around back there like an invisible dervish trying to make itself heard, and when it did, scampered away and hid again. By the time I reached the U.N. I gave up the mental chase and located a page I knew to go collect Miss Caine. He said she was at a special session and rd have to wait so I walked around the pile of masonry dedicated to peace, listening to the war talk and mingling with the tourists who thought it was all part of the World’s Fair.

  Rondine took twenty minutes before she broke loose and I followed her into the lounge that we had to ourselves for a change. I didn’t feel loose with her this time. I kept remembering the blood-red ruby and meeting her eyes wasn’t easy. If she had any intuitive feeling about it at all it didn’t show or else she understood, because she was there in my arms, ready for the way I held her and I knew that nothing was ever going to tear this woman from me.

  “I only have a few minutes, Tiger.”

  “Sure.” I handed her the compact and told her what I had in mind. She was to keep it with her at the party that night and cover Vey Locca if she digressed from a language she couldn’t understand. I said, “How close is your embassy working on this?”

  “Tight. They met this morning with your people and have everything arranged. Did you know that Teish has asked specifically for AmPet?”

  I nodded.

  “You might be interested in something else.”

  “Like what?”

  “This is restricted information, but since you’ll find out about it anyway I’ll tell you now. There was another meeting this morning and one of our staff was invited in an advisory capacity. Teish is going to ask for a ... a ... how do you call it?”

  “Handout?”

  Rondine grinned at me. “Crazy Americans. Really, it’s a long-term loan and a sizeable sum. He had already made overtures in London and it’s still under consideration, but I think your government will come through with it. Of course, it’s still unofficial and has to go through the usual channels, but it can’t afford to be ignored.”

  “He’s working fast,” I said.

  “Teish has to.”

  “I suppose he guarantees repayment if the oil recovery is successful.”

  “Exactly. And from what I gather, AmPet is the only company far enough advanced in their research to handle it.”

  I let out a short laugh. “I can see them putting the heat on Martin Grady now. He’s holding all the hole cards and if the deal goes through hell be bigger than ever with a club over their heads they won’t forget.”

  “Perhaps.”

  The way she said it made me lose the smile. Behind her words there was a depth of meaning and I said, “What’s the angle?”

  “Do you know Seaton Coleman and Porter Lockwood?” Mention either one of them and my back would crawl. “Damn right I do. They’re giveaway artists who kick over American business to those lousy little dictators who stamp their feet and wave their fists. Those slobs push their screwball idealist notions into our diplomacy and figure billions lost to our economy is worth some country’s going to the democratic scheme of things when it’s really a Commie power play. Where do they come into it?”

  “I shouldn’t eavesdrop, but I was in a position where I couldn’t help but hear. They have a clique ready to start action that will take AmPet right out of Martin Grady’s hands and put it under government control. They have enough influence to do it, or at least enough to cause trouble. I wouldn’t even tell you this, but I have certain ideals too and this pair were responsible for some of the difficulties our government encountered when they were trying to retain control of some parts of the Empire.”

  “Okay, doll, thanks for the word.
If Grady moves fast enough he can forestall any action. Those damn striped-pantsers aren’t going to louse this job up. Not if I can help it.” I kissed the tip of her nose and she crinkled it at me. There would have been more, but the door opened behind me to admit a half dozen men all talking at once. “See you tonight. Make sure you aren’t alone.”

  “Talbot’s with me. He’s picking me up at eight. Everybody is so jumpy they travel in threes and fours.”

  “I’m not worried about the others. Turos is picking his target and hell wait for the right time. He’s not fanatic enough to lose his own hide when he doesn’t have to so I’m not worried about him trying for a hit out in the open. Whatever he does will be well thought out with an escape route ready for himself. He’s a pro with a hell of a lot of experience. He’ll make his move knowing what our countermeasures are. What we have to do is hope he slips somewhere along the line.”

  Rondine lifted herself on her toes and kissed me lightly on the mouth. “Please, Tiger ... be careful.”

  “You know me, kid.”

  “That’s the trouble,” she said, “I do.”

  On the way back I leaned against the wind and the rain until I reached the Stacy. My friend was at his desk in the personnel office when I stuck my head in and he nodded an okay and made a motion with his finger to come in. At my request he phoned back to have Harry come in, ostensibly to make sure he had everything needed to prepare the specialties the house was serving to Teish.

  Little Harry was all smiles, his face wreathed in pleasure, and when I had him alone he told me that there had been no trouble at all setting the plant up. He had coached Lennie in the proper procedure, secured all the necessities and been assigned a place in the kitchen to cook them, out of sight of the chef who thought the whole mess was too disgusting even to look at. Lennie had made several trips to the suite, always accompanied by another waiter, and had made numerous contacts with Teish and Sarim Shey who seemed pleased by the unexpected service.