Микки Спиллейн: The Erection Set

I waited while Leyland Hunter finished his coffee and set the cup down. Finally he said, “Then I take it that going back is not a personal vendetta?”

“All I want is my ten grand,” I told him. “That is, if I can get past the morals clause.”

“By your own admission, an impossibility.”

“Yeah, but if there’s one for me, there must be one for the others too, isn’t there?”

“An astute observation. However, their lives have always been under careful and constant scrutiny. They have a proven, up-to-date record that will stand the cold light of investigation.”

I laid a five-dollar bill down on top of the check and stood up. “Hunter, my friend, you are old enough to be my grandfather, but there are still some things you have to learn. Everybody’s got something to hide.”

“Even you, Dog?”

“When I bury my bone,” I said, “I bury it deep.”

“Nobody can dig it up?”

“They have to fight me first.”

“All this for ten thousand dollars?”

I shrugged and lit a butt.

We walked across town and back to Hunter’s office in the tower on Thirty-fourth Street. From the elevator starter to the receptionist on his floor, we got the same looks, some bemused, some incredulous. Leyland Hunter never wore the same suit twice in any month, and here he was showing up disheveled and happy along with another randy mutt and there wasn’t any doubt about where we had been or what we had done. The maiden lady behind her desk whipped off her glasses, dropped them in her confusion, tried to hide her embarrassment in a stuttering “good morning” and when we were inside the old man said in a low growl, “She don’t know it, but what I got is just what she needs.”

“Hell, friend, I didn’t mean to turn you into a lecher type.”

“You didn’t. I’m beginning to think I always was. I just never had time to perfect the art.”

“Never too late,” I said.

His eyes twinkled as he eased into his big chair behind the desk. “Well spoken, Dog. Now I’ll quit giving to those damn high-handed charities and put my excess money into hands that can truly justify their existence. Incidentally... what was her name?”

“Charmaine.”

“Lovely creature. Would I need your, er — endorsement for another engagement?”

I grinned at him and he grinned back. “Now, what’s on your mind, Counselor?”

Leyland Hunter leaned back in his chair, tugged his tie open a little bit farther and let the air of his profession seep back into his face. “Do you know how often I tried to locate you, Dog?”

“Nope.”

“At least every year,” he said.

“Why bother?”

“Because certain business matters were entrusted to me and I intend to fulfill my obligations. You didn’t make it easy for me at all. You took your Army discharge in Europe and promptly dropped out of sight. I went to every extent possible to find you, ran down every lead, none of which ever panned out, and frankly, Dog, I was beginning to believe you were dead. It wouldn’t have been unusual at all. Army Intelligence, Interpol and the police departments of every country had all too many cases of ex-soldiers heavy with discharge pay suddenly being found dead or not found at all.”

“I had no trouble.”

“Why, Dog?”

“Counselor,” I said, “there was nothing for me back here except aggravation. I was twenty when I left and twenty-four when I got out. I wanted to see things and do things without the entire Barrin family breathing down my neck. And don’t tell me they weren’t happy about my decision. I was their skeleton in the closet, but I rattled a little too loudly when I was home and they didn’t like to be reminded of my mother’s indiscretion that brought everlasting shame upon the great family standards. The entire clan was a pain in the ass and I was glad to be rid of them. When my mother died there were no ties left, so this Dog snapped his leash.” I stopped and tapped another cigarette from my pack and lit it. “Funny, but I sort of miss the old gent. Gramps was just at the age where I could get him all shook up with my oddball behavior. I used to play games with him and he took the bait every time.”

“Maybe you weren’t really fooling him,” Leyland said. “He was pretty cagey.”

“Ever hear him fart he got so mad?” I let out a little laugh, remembering. “The day I beat hell out of that snotty Webster kid and his old man wouldn’t sell the acreage Gramps wanted on the south side of Mondo Beach, the old boy almost blew the seat out of his pants yelling at me.”

“I know.” Leyland smiled. “And you told him to go to hell and joined the Air Force the next day.”

“I was going to anyway. I had my two years of college and wanted to fly.”

“You made quite a record. Old Cameron was rather proud of you.”

“Balls,” I said.

“True, however. It was something he only mentioned to me. In a way you reminded him of his own youth. Your main fault was never aspiring to greatness. You know how he was about wanting a direct male heir.”

“Come off it, Hunter buddy. As far as he was concerned I was a plain old bastard in the true sense. Even when my mother married my father, it was too late to lift the stigma. At least his brother’s one kid left enough progeny around before he kicked off so he had plenty of blood relatives to leave his money to. Barrin Industries fell into well-trained hands. My ten-grand inheritance was only a token gesture, but I want it.”

“Oh, it’s there all right. Cameron’s instructions were to deliver to you stocks whose total worth was ten thousand dollars within a certain period after I contacted you. Provided you met the requirements, of course. Had you returned home in forty-six, you would have received five thousand shares. They had quite a market value in those days. However, the situation has changed. Wall Street is wallowing in an all-time low. Ten thousands dollars now represents twenty thousand shares. The remaining five will be split equally between Alfred and Dennison. It was a rather strange provision in Cameron’s will and he certainly didn’t foresee the drop in the economy or the current inflation. The only reason he held back those shares of stock from Alfred and Dennison was to let them mature further before handling a greater interest in the business.”

“But it’s still only ten grand,” I said.

“There’s a little more.”

“Oh?”

Hunter spun around in his chair, pulled a file drawer open and extracted a stiff yellow folder. He handed the contents across the desk to me. “Nothing much, but part of my obligation. Your grandfather once purchased a large tract of land in New Mexico, speculating that a government irrigation project would be instituted in the area. The bill never passed Congress and the land is still there... beautiful, rocky and arid. It’s a snake collector’s paradise and tourists take pictures of it. He left it to your mother and now it’s yours.” He tapped the paper in front of me and handed me a pen. “If you can find a sucker you might get him to take it off your hands at a quarter an acre. That would net you an even thousand dollars. At least it’s something. Taxes are negligible and paid to date.”

I scratched my name on the papers and shoved them back to him. “Thanks a lot,” I said. “Now how about my ten grand?”

“You just signed a notification of availability for it. Delivery may take place to you, Alfred and Dennison simultaneously at a formal meeting at Grand Sita, your former palatial residence. Let’s say day after tomorrow?”

I scowled in disgust. “Do I have to?”

Leyland nodded. “I’m afraid so. Besides, think of the reunion you’ll have.”

“Like meeting a pack of cobras,” I said.