Микки Спиллейн: Together We Kill

“Mike! You killed...”

“What difference does it make. The pressure’s off you now. They turned the heat my way.” I hesitated. “You’re beautiful, kid. Why? Why?”

“Why what, Mike?”

“Why do I love you so fast? What happens to a guy to make it so quick? Why, Helen? Why did a guy have to die tonight? Why is it I love you so much?”

“Maybe it’s because I can love, too. I thought I loved before... but it wasn’t like this. Nothing like this at all. I don’t have to... work to love you, Mike. It’s just there. It’s something that makes you and me the only two people in the world. Something that is life and living... and love. Love... it makes fear seem so small and pitiful. When you love like this there isn’t any room left for fear at all. Mike... remember you said forever?”

“Uh-huh.”

“And I said I’d do anything in the world for you?”

“Yeah...”

“And you said forever had to start sometime?”

“And forever starts...”

“Tonight, Mike.”

Then you come into the mist once more because there’s a killer loose and you’re ready to start again. It’s a day and a night later, and another day and a night and all along the way voices whisper to you while you wait.

They’re after you, Alike.

Hey, Mike... watch it.

Pal... pal... a guy with a rod... he was here before...

And you listen without answering... but you listen. You see them. You know their faces... faces that are all alike... faces of hunters... but you move too fast... then you’re ready to move and you watch and wait for a long time before you have him right.

He comes out of a building finally... and for the first time he’s alone. You say...

“Carmen...”

Then he spins around and while the crazy feat is still on his face and the scream in his throat, there’s a crashing thunder of a shot...

And Carmen Rich fell with the blood, a wild angry stream spurting from his throat, and you know the party isn’t over yet...

So you run and run until you’re in the clear and stand there panting your lungs out... then another long day and then you begin to wonder and at last you get an idea... and see Pat again.

He spoke slowly, softly: “Mike... all I know is what they let me know. Sure Carmen is dead. They all die sooner or later, but someone’s ready to fill in. No matter what the papers or the politicians say, we can’t stop the Syndicate from operating.”

“Who filled in, Pat?”

“I wish I knew. I wish I knew.”

“Guess.”

“Somebody who’s here now. A million-dollar enterprise doesn’t go without a president for long. But who? I don’t know yet. By the way... the prints we lifted from that pad of yours. They belong to a guy named Ben Liter. Small-time hood. Mostly petty raps. What’s the pitch?”

I snorted.

“Something?” he asked.

“No...” I said. “No... nothing, Pat.”

Nothing. Always nothing. Even the voices that whispered told me nothing. In a way it was funny, all of it... from a bartender who owned a bar worth a fortune... but didn’t run the business... to dead me... to guys in the bushes... to a new president. Toast. The king is dead. Long live the king. Ahhhh.

The queen.

Helen.

Tonight was rain and Helen and tomorrow the king could live and die but tonight was the queen... and live.

So I went back to the apartment. I got out of the cab. It was quiet... dark... and late, so that’s why I heard him... and maybe why I followed him. Then there he was, going into the same building as I was...

“Buddy!” I said.

He took two shots at me and I clawed my .45 out from under my arm and took pursuit.

And there we were, alone in the darkness, the back fences of the alleys crowding us, the rain a muffler that blanked out sound but we each knew the other was there and someplace where I could hear him breathing was the new king who was ready to kill my queen and for the first time I was the white knight and I laughed...

“Buddy... you won’t get out alive.”

“You’re kidding, feller. You’re just kidding. You know who did it to Carmen? You know why? ”

“Yeah,” I said.

“Carmen was too big too long. I been small long enough. It’s my turn now. I’m going up. Then you know what? I got everything I ever wanted. Everything. Nobody... understand... nobody... gets in my way. Nobody stops me or gets in my way even. Not you, nobody.” He laughed. “Not even Mata Hari.”

“They were big dreams, Buddy,” I said. “You’ve had it.”

“No,” he said. “ You get it. You and anybody in my way.”

There was just that one exploding pain in my belly that smashed me into the ground... hard, wet, and the breath was gone for long seconds. There was that fuzzy feeling that I had known once, a long time ago in the stinking jungles of a Pacific island... but even then it hadn’t been this bad... and then the king stood over me to put the final one in my head.

He shouldn’t have been so gracious...

His laugh was a whisper as he came over and he was still laughing when I shot him.

You could hear sirens someplace... they faded as I stood up, stopped altogether as I walked and all the sound I could hear was the rushing waterfall in my ears... but somehow I got up to her apartment... opened it with the key she had given me and staggered in.

My queen was beautiful... beautiful... standing there in that single light. Beautiful and mine.

And I was dying...

“Mike?” Her voice was querulous.

“They’re dead, Helen. It’s one way of stopping the fear.”

“Dead?”

“Carmen Rich... he didn’t matter. Buddy Whiteman.” I paused. “He mattered. He’s dead, Helen, but I’m the only one who knows. You’ll never have to be afraid of anything again. I’m the only one who knows.”

“Mike...?”

“The death photo of Marty Wellman. He had his hand on a gun, so he was afraid of a killer. But his head was turned to look at something else. Even with a killer in front of him, you’d be the only one he’d look at. The only thing he’d take his eyes off a killer for. And one other thing. It was small and wouldn’t mean much except to me. The guy who watched us in the park... he was a small-timer. A guy with services for rent... but not to a big organization like the Syndicate, Helen. To you, maybe, but not the Syndicate.”

“Yes... it was me, Mike. Me and Marty at first, but he wouldn’t give me what I had earned. He had to die. You know that, don’t you? Carmen?” She shook her head. “He wasn’t the strong one I needed. I wanted someone who could act... quickly, decisively. Someone who could respond to my... love... without anyone knowing it. Someone ready to do whatever I asked him to... no questioning... nothing.” She shrugged. “That was Buddy Whiteman. The Miami Kid, they called him.”

“Forget them, honey,” I said. “It’s over now. There’s only you and me... for a few minutes at least.”

“Mike... there’s not even a few minutes. I’m scared again. I wanted so much. I almost had it... then I did have it... for a little bit. Mike... I’m going to have it for all time. I’m going to have the world at the snap of mv fingers. Not a little bit... everything! Buddy killed Carmen for me.” She laughed shortly. “He was going to kill you, too. Mike... you see, here’s how it is. Buddy got ambitious, too. That was the sad part of it. He and I planned the kill of Marty and did it. But he had ambitions and as long as I knew his part of the murder, I was in his way. Juries seldom convict a woman, you know. So it had to be either Buddy or me. One of us had to die and I didn’t like to kill anyone myself... so I chose you, Mike...”