One Lonely Night

by Mickey Spillane

  “It doesn’t at that,” I said tiredly. “There’s a flaw in it that I can see. Do you see it too?”

  “Yes. Charlie Moffit.”

  “That’s right. The man with a present and no past. Nobody knows him or knows where he comes from. He’s just a present.”

  “Almost ideal for an MVD operative.”

  “That’s right again. Almost. Where’s the flaw?”

  Velda’s fingers made a little tap-tap against the arm of the chair. “The act was too nearly perfect. It was too good to be anything but true.”

  “Roger. Charlie Moffit was anything but MVD. I thought those Reds were figuring me to be the man who took his place. I was wrong. I was impersonating the wrong dead man. The boy on the bridge was MVD. Pat handed it to me on a platter but I let it slip by. His only identifiable mark was his bridge-work because he had a stainless-steel tooth. There’s only one country where they use stainless steel for teeth ... the U.S.S.R. Fat boy was an imported killer, a checkrein on other agents in this country. Do you know how they knew he was dead?”

  “Not from the sketch in the papers. He didn’t have any fingerprints, either.”

  “They wouldn’t have found them if he did. I forgot to tell you, but I wore his fingertips to the bone on the concrete before I threw him over.”

  Velda bit her lip and shuddered. She said “Mike!” too softly.

  “No, the reason they knew he was dead was because he dropped out of sight. I don’t think they got the connection until later when some smart apple started to check the unidentified bodies in the morgue. Pat said they sent dental charts out. One of those that received them could have recognized what that stainless-steel tooth meant and there it was.”

  “But they knew he was dead the next night ... or so you supposed.”

  “Uh-huh. Fat boy didn’t check in. They must have a system for those things. There was only one answer if he didn’t check in. He was dead. The dental charts only verified it.”

  “What must they think? Why ...”

  I kept my voice low so I wouldn’t get boiling mad again. “They think it was a dirty democratic conspiracy. It was all too secret to be normal. They think it was our government playing them dirty. They’re the only ones who are supposed to be able to kick you under the table.”

  Velda said something dirty and she wasn’t smiling.

  I went on: “The other night there was a new note in the party. Something happened to a courier of theirs, something about documents. They are missing. The party is very upset, the poor devils.”

  Velda came up out of her seat, her face tight as a drumhead. “They’re at it again, Mike. Government documents and double-dealing. Damn it, Mike, why do these things have to happen?”

  “They happen because we’re soft. We’re honorable.”

  “Did they say what they were?”

  “No. I gathered they were pretty important.”

  “They must be.”

  “Velda, there’s a lot of things that are important that we give away for free. Do you know what they were doing one night? They had a pile of technical journals and flying mags you can pick up on any newsstand. They were photographing the stuff onto microfilm for shipment back. A good intelligence man can pick out a lot of data from photos. They take a bit here and a bit there until the picture is complete and bingo, they have something we’re trying to keep under the hat.”

  “But documents, Mike. That’s government stuff! That’s something the FBI should know about.”

  “I know, I know. Maybe they do. Maybe they know they’re missing and suspect where they’ve gone. Maybe they don’t know because the documents were photostats. They’re gone and that’s what counts. I’m in a muddle because they found me out and now I can’t do any more snooping. They’ll be looking for me with a vengeance now. They tried to kill me last night and ...”

  “Mike!”

  “Oh, you didn’t hear about that. You should read the papers. There’s six lines about it on page four. They didn’t even print my picture. Yeah, they know me now and it’s every man for himself. The next time I’ll start the shooting and I won’t miss.”

  Velda had her hand over her mouth, her teeth clamped on a fingernail. “God, you get into some of the most horrible scrapes! I do wish you’d be careful.” Her eyes got a little wet and she got mad at herself. “You won’t tell anybody anything and you won’t ask for help when you need it most. Mike ... please ... there are times when you have to let somebody else in on things.”

  I could feel my lip curling. “Sure, Velda, sure. I’ll tell everybody that I go around killing people just like that. It’s easy to say, but I’m the guy who’s supposed to be a menace to society. Hell, I’ll take it my way and the public can lump it.”

  She wiped away a tear that was feeling its way down her cheek. “He shouldn’t have done that to you, Mike.”

  “Who?”

  “The judge.”

  I swore violently and my voice was hoarse.

  “Are you ... going to keep looking?”

  I nodded my head. “Indirectly, yes. I’m still on a case for Lee Deamer.”

  Velda’s head snapped up. “Mike ... that’s it!”

  “What?”

  “The documents! Charlie Moffit was the courier they spoke about! He was carrying those documents the night Oscar attacked and killed him! Oscar must have taken them from him.”

  “Damn!” The word exploded out of me. Of course, of course! the pocket that was ripped out of his coat! I shot Velda a grin that had “thanks” written on it. “It comes clear, kid, real clear. Oscar came to town to bleed Lee and he wouldn’t bleed. So he goes out and kills a guy hoping to be identified as Lee, knowing damn well Lee would have an alibi and it would just make sensational reading for the public. He figured that would bring Lee to heel when he asked for money again. The gimmick came when he killed the guy. The papers must have stuck out of his pocket and Oscar grabbed them. When he realized what they were he saw the ideal way to bring Lee around. That’s what he hinted at to Lee over the phone. If Lee brought in the cops and anything happened to him, the presence of those papers was to be attributed to Lee.”

  Velda was white, dead-white and her breathing came too fast. “It’s rotten, Mike. Good heavens, if it ever gets out ...”

  “Yeah, Lee is finished even if he can prove himself innocent.”

  “Oh, no!”

  “Beautiful. No matter what happens the Commies win. If they get the documents they probably have something juicy for cruddy Uncle Joe. If they don’t and somebody else finds them, their worst enemy is yanked off their necks.”

  “Mike ... it can’t happen!”

  “Now do I go it alone, Velda? Now do I take it by myself?”

  “Yes. You ... and me. The bastards. The dirty, filthy red bastards!” They should see her now, I was thinking. Gladow, the general, the boys in the Kremlin should see her now and they’d know what they were getting into. They’d see the face of beauty that had a kill-lust in every beautiful line and they’d stick inside their cold, walled-in city and shake in their shoes!

  “When do we start, Mike?”

  “Tonight. Be here at nine sharp. We’ll see if we can find what Oscar did with those papers.” She sat back in the chair and stared at the wall.

  I picked up the phone and dialed Pat’s number. He came on with, “Homicide, Captain Chambers speaking.”

  “Mike, pal. Any new corpses today?”

  “Not yet. You didn’t shoot straight enough. When are you coming in to explain about last night? I went to bat for you and I want a report and not a lot of subterfuge.”

  “I’m practically on my way now. I’ll drop by your office and pick you up for lunch.”

  “Okay. Make it snappy.”

  I said I would and cradled the receiver. Velda was waiting for orders. “Stay here,” I told her. “I have to see Pat and I’ll call you when I’m finished. In case I don’t call or come back, be here at nine.”

  “That’
s all?”

  “That’s all,” I repeated. I tried to look stem like a boss should, but she grinned and spoiled it. I had to kiss her good-by before she’d let me go. “There’s no telling if I’ll see you alive again,” she laughed. Then she slapped her hand over her mouth and her eyes went wide. “What am I saying?”

  “I still have a couple of lives left, kid. I’ll save one for you, so don’t worry.” I grinned again and went out the door.

  Downstairs I got tired of waiting for a cab so I walked the half mile to the lot. A car in the city could be a pain in the butt sometimes. But what the hell, it was a nice day for a change and the air felt fairly fresh if a bus or something didn’t go by.

  I picked up my keys when I handed over the ticket and found my heap. I was in second and heading toward the gate when I saw that the boy had cleaned off my windows, and jammed on my brakes to flip him a quarter. That two-bits saved my skin. The truck that had been idling up the street had jumped ahead to intercept me broadside, saw I was stopping and tried to get me by swerving onto the driveway and off again.

  Metal being ripped out by the roots set up a shriek and the car leaped ahead before there was a nasty snap that disengaged it from the body of the truck. I let out a string of curses because the jolt had wedged me up against the wheel and I couldn’t get my rod out. By the time I was back in the seat the truck was lost in the traffic.

  The attendant yanked the door open, his face ashen. “Gawd, mister, you hurt?”

  “No, not this time.”

  “Them crazy fools! Gawd, they coulda killed ya!” His teeth started to chatter violently.

  “They sure coulda.” I got out of the car and walked around the front. One side of the bumper had been ripped clear off the frame and stuck out like an oversize L.

  “Boy, that was close, awright. I seen ‘em come up the street but I never give ’em a thought. Them crazy fools musta been fooling around the cab and hit the gas. They never stopped. You want I should call a cop?”

  I kicked the bumper and it all but fell loose. “Forget it. They got away by now. Think you can get this bumper off?”

  “Sure, I got some tools. Only two bolts holding it on anyway.”

  “Okay, take it off and pick one up for this model at a garage somewhere. I’ll fix you up for your trouble.”

  He said, “Yessir, mister. Sure,” and ran after his tools. I sat on the fender and smoked a cigarette until he finished then passed him two bucks and told him not to forget a new bumper. He said he wouldn’t forget.

  When I pulled away I looked up and down the one-way street just to be sure. It happened twice. I said it wouldn’t but it happened again anway. They must have had a tail on me when I came out of the office and saw a beautiful chance to nail me cold. That truck would have made hash of me if it had connected right.

  They were going to all kinds of trouble, weren’t they? That made me important. You have to be important if you were better off dead. The judge should like that.

  Pat was sitting with his back to the door looking out the window at the city when I came in. He swung around in his chair and nodded hello. I pulled a chair up and sat down with my feet propped up on his desk. “I’m all set, Captain. Where are the bright lights?”

  “Cut it out, Mike. Start talking.”

  “Pat, so help me, you know almost everything right now.”

  “Almost. Give me the rest.”

  “They tried again a little while ago. This time it was a truck and not bullets.”

  The pencil in Pat’s hand tapped the desk. “Mike, I’m not a complete fool. I play along with you because we’re friends, but I’m a cop, I’ve been a cop a long time, and I know my business. You’re not telling me people are shooting you up in the streets without a reason.”

  “Hell, they gotta have a reason.”

  “Do you know what it is?” He was drawing to the end of his patience.

  I took my feet off the desk and leaned toward him. “We’ve been through this before, Pat. I’m not a complete fool either. In your mind every crime belongs to the police, but there are times when an apparent crime is a personal affront and it isn’t very satisfying not to take care of it yourself. That’s how I feel about it.”

  “So you know then.”

  “I think I know. There’s nothing you can do about it so quit being a cop and let’s get back to being friends.”

  Pat tried to grin, but didn’t put it over too well. “Are you straightened out with Lee?”

  My feet went up on the desk again. “He gave me a tidy sum to poke around. I’m busy at it.”

  “Good, Mike. Be sure you make a clean sweep.” He dropped his head and passed his hand over his hair. “Been reading the papers lately?”

  “Not too much. I noticed one thing ... they’re pulling for Deamer in nearly every editorial column. One sheet reprints all his speeches.”

  “He’s giving another tonight. You should go hear him.”

  “I’ll leave that stuff up to you, chum. There’s too much dribble and not enough pep talk at those meetings.”

  “The devil there isn’t! Take the last one I was at. We had supper with the customary speeches afterward, but it was the small talk later that counted. Lee Deamer made the rounds speaking to small groups and he gave them the real stuff. It was easier for him to talk that way. Most of us had never met him until that time, but when he spoke we were sold completely. We have to have that guy in, Mike. No two ways about it. He’s strong. He can’t be pushed or bullied. You wouldn’t know it to look at him, but he’s the strength that this nation will be relying on some day.”

  “That was the same night Oscar pulled the stops out, wasn’t it?”

  “That’s right. That’s why we didn’t want any of it to reach the public. Even a lie can be told to give the people the wrong impression.”

  “You’ve sure gotten a big interest in politics, Pat.”

  “Hell, why not? I’ll be glad to go back to being a cop again instead of a tool in some politician’s workshop. Lee gave a talk over the radio last night. You know what he did?”

  I said no. I had been too busy to listen.

  “He’s brought some of his business sense into politics. He sat down with an adding machine and figured things up. He wanted to know why it cost the state ten million for it to have a job done when any private contractor could do it for six. He quoted names and places and figures and told the public that if he was elected his first order would be to sign warrants of arrest for certain political joes who are draining the state dry.”

  “And?”

  Pat looked at the desk and glared. “And today I heard that the big push comes soon. Lee has to be smeared any way at all.”

  “It won’t happen, Pat.”

  I shouldn’t have used that tone. His head jerked up and his eyes were tiny bright spots watching me from tight folds of skin. His hand closed into a fist slowly and tightened until the cords bulged out. “You know something, Mike, by God, you know something!”

  “I do?” I couldn’t make it sound funny.

  Pat was ready to split wide open. “Mike, you’re in on it. Damn it, you went and found something. Oh, I know you ... no talking until you’re ready, but this isn’t a murder that involved only a handful of people ... this is something that takes in a whole population and you better not tip the apples over.”

  He stood up, his hands on the edge of the desk for support. He spat the words out between his teeth and meant every one. “We’ve been friends, Mike. You and I have been in and out of a lot of things together and I’ve always valued your friendship. And your judgment. Just remember this, if I’m guessing right and you’re in on something that might hurt Lee and won’t talk about it, and if that something does hurt Lee, then we can forget about being friends. Is that clear?”

  “That’s clear, Pat. Would it make you feel better if I told you that your line of reasoning is a little off? You’re getting teed off at me when you ought to be teeing off on some of the goddamn C
ommies we got loose in this city.”

  His face had a shrewd set to it. “So they’re part of it too.” Muscles stuck out in lumps along his jaws. Let him think how he liked.

  “Nothing will happen to Lee,” I said. “At least nothing that I’m concerned with.” This time I got some conviction in my voice. Pat stopped glaring and sat down.

  He didn’t forget the subject. “You still have those green cards on your mind?”

  “Yeah, I have. I don’t like what they mean, and you shouldn’t either.”

  “I hate everything they stand for. I’m sorry we have to tolerate it. We ought to do what they would have done a hundred years ago.”

  “Stop talking nonsense. You’re in America now.”

  “Sure I am, and I want to stay here. If you want a democracy you have to fight for it. Why not now before it’s too late? That’s the trouble, we’re getting soft. They push us all around the block and we let them get away with it!”

  “Calm down, will you.” I hadn’t realized that I was banging on his desk until he rapped my knuckles. I sat down.

  “What did you do about Oscar?” I asked.

  “What could we do? Nothing. It’s over, finished.”

  “And his personal effects?”

  “We went through them and there was nothing to be found. I posted a man to check his place in case any mail came in. I had the idea that Oscar might have mailed something to himself. I took the man off today when nothing showed.”

  I had to struggle to hold my face straight. Pat had the place watched! Neat, very neat. If we weren’t the only ones who wanted to go through that apartment then we wouldn’t be going in on a cold deal. Nobody else could have gotten there either!

  I reached for a butt and lit it. “Let’s go out to eat, Pat.”

  He grabbed his coat off the rack and locked the door to the office. On the way out I thought of something I should have thought of before and had him open it up again. I picked up the phone and called the office. Velda answered with a silky hello.

  I said, “Mike, honey. Look, have you emptied the wastebasket by my desk yet?”