“We smashed up the Jaguar in Buckman Canyon,” she said, “with the three of us crowded aboard. Anyway, that’s the story. Fortunately there happened to be some law-enforcement officers around. We never did learn just what they were doing there, of course, but they were very kind and considerate and got Peter and Larry to the hospital right away. One of the officers even contributed his uniform blouse.” She was silent for a moment; then she went on: “Your boss seems to be a man of influence. The doctors haven’t said a word about bullet wounds. The papers just reported the ‘accident’ in a few lines. I... we’re very grateful, Matt. If there had been any publicity, it would never have been... well, right, again. You know what I mean. He’s been trying to live it all down. He doesn’t want to be a hero, any more than a villain. He just wants to be a. a peaceful, law-abiding citizen, an ordinary person. I thought he’d be sad because he’d had to sacrifice the Jaguar, but he says it’s just as well, he’s got no business driving a car like that. He’s going to be strictly the family-sedan type from now on.”
“I know,” I said. I’d been the pickup-truck type for years, with the same motives, but it hadn’t taken. But I didn’t say that. “Tell him I wish him luck,” I said.
“And me?” she asked.
“You too,” I said. “Naturally.”
She smiled. “You were pretty disgusted with me there for a while, weren’t you? I don’t really blame you. I didn’t behave very well, by your standards. Fortunately, Larry’s more interested in a wife and companion than in a. a hunting partner, if that’s the right word. And I’m a pretty good wife and companion, Matt, even if I’d make a terrible secret agent.”
I grinned. “Terrible is right. Well, anyway, it’s nice we both know for sure, isn’t it? There was a moment when I first saw you, a few weeks back.”
“Yes,” she said, “if the boys hadn’t interrupted.” She shivered slightly. “Thank God they did!”
I said, “You don’t have to be so emphatic about it. You might hurt my feelings.”
She laughed. She wasn’t worried about my feelings. After watching me shoot Martell through the head, she probably wasn’t too sure I really had any. She picked up her big hat. “Well, I’d better.”
I said, “Just one thing, Beth.”
She turned at the door. “What’s that?” she asked.
“Those two men,” I said, “the ones who tried to perform a kidnaping and got eaten by a dog, remember?” I wouldn’t have brought it up, if she hadn’t laughed like that.
She licked her lips. “How could I forget? Why... why did you mention it?”
“Because you sent them,” I said. I waited, but she didn’t speak. I said, “I’ve been thinking about the times and mileages involved, and there’s no other answer. Larry was already well on his way to the Mexican border, he had to be, when those men came for Moira Fredericks; and Larry isn’t the kind to run off and leave his wife to supervise a kidnaping alone. He wouldn’t have let you have any part in it, assuming that he’d pull a stunt like that in the first place. It’s my feeling that, unlike some people we know, Larry’s really too much of a gentleman to use a young girl he knows and likes as a weapon against her father.”
She said, “You’re calling him Larry now. You used to insist on calling him Duke.”
“He’s earned the right to be called what he wants by me,” I said. “And you’re changing the subject. My guess is that your quarrel with Larry was much earlier in the day than you let me think, maybe right after he’d sent the kids up into the mountains that morning. You got into an argument about how safe they’d be there, probably; and that’s when he stalked to the phone and called up Fredericks and drove off mad. Then you started feeling guilty about being the cause of his giving in like that. He’d left a couple of tough boys to look after you, telling them to take orders from you. And you had this bright idea, only it didn’t quite work out.”
She licked her lips again. “I was only trying to... to help. To make it unnecessary for him to go through with. I thought, if we had the girl, we could make some kind of deal when he got back.” She drew a long breath. “You’re right, of course. It was a crazy, terrible thing to do. I still wake up at night, seeing. What are you going to do about it, Matt?”
“Does Larry know?”
“Of course he knows.”
I said, “Don’t worry about me. I just thought I’d set the record straight, between us. May I ask a question?”
“Yes,” she said. “Of course.”
“Think hard now. Would you ever have dreamed of sending some men to kidnap anybody for my sake?”
She hesitated. Then she said in a small voice, “I don’t think so, Matt.”
“Then everything is fine the way it is, isn’t it?”
She nodded. “Everything is fine.”
“Well,” I said, “give my love to the kids. I’ll try to remember their birthdays from time to time.”
“Larry says. he says his objections are withdrawn, of course, and you’re welcome at the ranch any time.”
“Sure.”
She hesitated, but we’d said just about everything necessary, and she turned and walked out of the room. I lay back and thought about the kids I wouldn’t be seeing much of. Well, I’d never been very active in the papa department, anyway. Logan would probably work much harder at it. I guess I must have gone to sleep, because suddenly the kid was standing at the foot of the bed, looking at me.
She was wearing a black linen suit and black shoes and gloves and she looked smart but rather subdued, for her. Her red-gold hair was just as smooth and bright as it could be, not a tendril out of place. Maybe she’d stopped outside to fix it, and maybe she was just growing up. Maybe she really had it licked at last. Her sea-green eyes said she’d done some growing since I’d seen her last.
“Hello, Moira,” I said.
“Hello, baby.”
“I thought you were mad at me.”
“That was a couple of weeks ago,” she said. “I don’t stay mad that long.” After a moment, she said, “You certainly look helpless in that bed.” Then she said: “My mother died the other day.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Cut it out,” she said. “Why should you be sorry? She was just waiting, I guess. She was going to outlast him. When she heard about him, there wasn’t anything else to keep her, and she just went, I guess.” She made a gesture towards her somber clothes. “Mourning. Corny, huh?”
I said, “I thought it was for—”
“For him? I wouldn’t change my socks for him.” After a moment, she said, “Did you have to do it?” Then she glanced at the bulk of the bandages under my hospital gown. “I guess that’s a silly question. But—” She drew a long breath. “You know what I mean.”
“Yes.”
“Well, it was pretty good for a little while,” she said flatly. “Choice.”
“Yes,” I said. “Choice.”
“I could bring you flowers or candy or something. Should I?”
“No.”
“I kind of thought that’s what you’d say.”
I said, “They tell me young Logan is down the hall. He’s still on the critical list. A little incentive might help.”
She looked at me without expression. “You may be a pretty good whatever you are,” she said. “But you’re a hell of a lousy matchmaker. Why don’t you mind your own damn business?”
“It was just a stray thought.”
“No wonder it strayed. Nobody’d bother to round up one like that.” She drew a long breath. “What room?”
“A hundred and thirty-four.”
“I’ll see how he’s getting along. Just to please you.” She studied me for a moment longer. “You know, the old man never did anything right in his life, did he? He couldn’t even shoot straight! If he’d killed you, I could grieve for you. It would be a damn sight easier than. Good-bye, baby.”
“Good-bye,” I said, and watched her go out of the room quickly, noting that a little wisp
of red-gold hair was coming down over her right ear. She hadn’t grown up quite enough to lick it, after all. Well, she had lots of time.
I could have told her that I hadn’t actually killed her old man, of course, although I’d been working at it hard. I might have kept her around for a while, that way. It would have been nice; but it wasn’t my secret, and there was nothing I could give her of much value, compared to what she had to give to somebody, now that she was free. I was being noble, I guess. As usual, it made me feel lousy, and I was glad when the telephone rang; but when I heard the voice at the other end, I was less glad than I had been.
Mac’s voice asked, “How are you, Eric?”
I said, “For an accurate diagnosis, check with the attending physician.”
“I have. He says you’ll live.”
“Well, I’m glad he’s finally made up his mind,” I said.
“When you’re well enough, I’d like a full report,” Mac said. “There seem to be a few matters requiring detailed explanation. In the past fortnight I’ve had to think up stories to account for two juvenile delinquents with damaged right arms, six dead human bodies, one dead canine body, one irate young woman held prisoner against her will, three badly wounded men, and a lady without a shirt on.”
I said, “Not to mention a few kilos of heroin, and some other stuff.”
“Yes,” he said. “There’s that, isn’t there? Our associated agencies, although professing to be shocked by the methods used, are quite pleased with the results obtained.”
“And you, sir?”
“What do you think, Eric? The information I have indicates that one of my men allowed himself to be a) knocked on the head, b) captured in his sleep, and c) shot by a man he already had covered.”
I said, “Your information seems to be quite complete, sir. What are you going to do, fire me in disgrace and send me off to Siberia, or its equivalent, to run a post office?”
He was silent briefly; then he said, “That was it, wasn’t it, Eric? That was what Martell was doing all those years, looking after the mail. No wonder he resented it, after the position he’d held previously. But the syndicate had its drug traffic thoroughly organized, until the recent crackdowns. All our friends had to do was put trusted agents at key points along the line, to insert the materials they wanted transmitted into the drug containers, and take them out again. The syndicate then did all the work, unknowingly, of getting the stuff secretly into the country. As Martell said, Rizzi was running his errands for him.”
I said, “It seems kind of like using a man-eating tiger for pony-rides at the fair.”
“They probably only used the route for critical and difficult transmissions like this one. But when they wanted it, it was there.” I heard him clear his throat— warning me that we were returning to the subject I had so subtly shelved, I thought. “As I say, Eric, it doesn’t seem as if you’ve been operating at top efficiency.”
“I could claim personal involvement and inadequate briefing,” I said, “but I won’t. Guilty on counts a) and b). As for c) I told them they were under arrest, as you more or less instructed me to do. They just didn’t seem to believe me. Maybe I didn’t speak with enough conviction. I haven’t had much practice at arresting people, sir.”
“It’s a point, but not a very good one,” he said. “Maybe you need a rest, Eric. As a matter of fact, I just happen to know a place... You like fishing, don’t you? Well, as soon as you’re released from the hospital, get your fishing tackle and...”
It was a lake up in the mountains, never mind where, and there never was a more ideal place to convalesce from a bullet wound, to hear him tell it.
“Yes, sir,” I said. “It sounds swell. Thank you very much, sir.”
He said, “You can stay on into the hunting season, if you like. In fact, I’d suggest bringing a heavy rifle along, preferably with a telescopic sight. oh, and some pistol ammunition, of course, so that you can keep in practice.”
“Practice,” I said. “Yes, sir. You don’t think I should take along a bazooka or a small mountain howitzer as well?”
“I shouldn’t think that would be necessary,” he said, but I noticed he didn’t sound quite sure. “Well, good-bye, Eric. Take care of yourself.”
It looked as if I’d have to. It was a cinch he wasn’t going to. I put the phone back and leaned against the pillows and thought about the lake up in the mountains. I wondered what Mac had lost up there and what I’d have to do to find it.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Donald Hamilton was the creator of secret agent Matt Helm, star of 27 novels that have sold more than 20 million copies worldwide.
Born in Sweden, Hamilton emigrated to the United States and studied at the University of Chicago. During the Second World War he served in the United States Naval Reserve, and in 1941 he married Kathleen Stick, with whom he had four children.
The first Matt Helm book, Death of a Citizen, was published in 1960 to great acclaim, and four of the subsequent novels were made into motion pictures. Hamilton was also the author of several outstanding stand-alone thrillers and westerns, including two novels adapted for the big screen as The Big Country and The Violent Men.
Donald Hamilton died in 2006.
COMING SOON FROM TITAN BOOKS
The Matt Helm Series
BY DONALD HAMILTON
The long-awaited return of the United States’ toughest special agent.
Death of a Citizen
The Wrecking Crew
The Silencers (June 2013)
Murderers’ Row (August 2013)
The Ambushers (October 2013)
The Shadowers (December 2013)
The Ravagers (February 2014)
PRAISE FOR DONALD HAMILTON
“Donald Hamilton has brought to the spy novel the authentic hard realism of Dashiell Hammett; and his stories are as compelling, and probably as close to the sordid truth of espionage, as any now being told.”
Anthony Boucher, The New York Times
“This series by Donald Hamilton is the top-ranking American secret agent fare, with its intelligent protagonist and an author who consistently writes in high style. Good writing, slick plotting and stimulating characters, all tartly flavored with wit.”
Book Week
“Matt Helm is as credible a man of violence as has ever figured in the fiction of intrigue.”
The New York Sunday Times
“Fast, tightly written, brutal, and very good.”
Milwaukee Journal
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ALSO AVAILABLE FROM TITAN BOOKS
Helen MacInnes
A series of slick espionage thrillers from the New York Times bestselling “Queen of Spy Writers.”
Pray for a Brave Heart
Above Suspicion
Assignment in Brittany
North From Rome
Decision at Delphi
The Venetian Affair
The Salzburg Connection
Message from Málaga
While We Still Live
The Double Image
Neither Five Nor Three
Horizon
Snare of the Hunter (May 2013)
Agent in Place (June 2013)
PRAISE FOR HELEN MACINNES
“The queen of spy writers.” Sunday Express
“Definitely in the top class.” Daily Mail
“The hallmarks of a MacInnes novel of suspense are as individual and as clearly stamped as a Hitchcock thriller.” The New York Times
“She can hang her cloak and dagger right up there with Eric Ambler and Graham Greene.” Newsweek
“More class than most adventure writers accumulate in a lifetime.” Chicago Daily News
“A sophisticated thriller. The story builds up to an exciting climax.” Times Literary Supplement
“An atmosphere that is ready to explode with tension. a wonderfully readable book.”
The New Yorker
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FROM TITAN BOOKS
Lady, Go Die!
BY MICKEY SPILLANE & MAX ALLAN COLLINS
THE LOST MIKE HAMMER NOVEL
Hammer and Velda go on vacation to a small beach town on Long Island after wrapping up the Williams case (I, the Jury). Walking romantically along the broadwalk, they witness a brutal beating at the hands of some vicious local cops—Hammer wades in to defend the victim.
When a woman turns up naked—and dead— astride the statue of a horse in the small-town city park, how she wound up this unlikely Lady Godiva is just one of the mysteries Hammer feels compelled to solve...
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ALSO AVAILABLE FROM TITAN BOOKS
Complex 90
BY MICKEY SPILLANE & MAX ALLAN COLLINS
THE LOST MIKE HAMMER COLD WAR THRILLER
Hammer accompanies a conservative politician to Moscow on a fact-finding mission. While there, he is arrested by the KGB on a bogus charge, and imprisoned; but he quickly escapes, creating an international incident by getting into a firefight with Russian agents.
On his stateside return, the government is none too happy with Mr. Hammer. Russia is insisting upon his return to stand charges, and various government agencies are following him. A question dogs our hero: why him? Why does Russia want him back, and why (as evidence increasingly indicates) was he singled out to accompany the senator to Russia in the first place?
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COMING IN 2014 FROM TITAN BOOKS
King of the Weeds
BY MICKEY SPILLANE & MAX ALLAN COLLINS
THE PENULTIMATE MIKE HAMMER NOVEL
As his old friend Captain Pat Chambers of Homicide approaches retirement, Hammer finds himself up against a clever serial killer targeting only cops.
A killer Chambers had put away many years ago is suddenly freed on new, apparently indisputable evidence, and Hammer wonders if, somehow, this seemingly placid, very odd old man might be engineering cop killings that all seem to be either accidental or by natural causes.
The Removers Page 17
