Микки Спиллейн - Death of the Too-Cute Prostitute [= Man Alone]

“He find you yet?” I asked over my shoulder while I jotted down the stock names.

“If you did, he will. Now I got more trouble. He wants me he better come up with somethin’ real. Right now I got a guy...”

“Save it,” I said.

As I went out she yelled, “You tell him...”

But I shut the door on her and went back downstairs. Annie Schwartz was waiting with her fat arms crossed over her heavy chest trying to force a scowl through the fat wrinkles that seamed her face. “Quick, wasn’t it?” I said.

Once I got back to Manhattan I called Jerry Nolan at the precinct station and asked him how he was making out.

He sounded tired and irritable. “Nothing in the files here. I’m checking out the departments upstate and in Jersey but it’s going to be a while before I get anything.” He paused, took a breath and added, “How long can this thing wait?”

“It can’t, Jerry. Stay on it. Argenio there?”

“He came and went.”

“Alone?”

“Yeah, why?”

“Just curious. I’ll call back later.”

I held the receiver down, dropped in another dime and dialed the Police Academy building. The officer at the PBX board who took my call told me Argenio had left a few minutes ago. I said thanks and hung up without giving him any more information.

Then I stood there and grinned a little bit. The bits and pieces were falling into place very neatly.

Going past the guys who worked in the lab wasn’t easy. Until the trial that afternoon was over I was still a suspended cop better to stay clear of, no matter how good my record had been. A few nodded hello and two stopped to talk a minute, but most discreetly ducked out of the way and left me alone.

Ted Marker was over by the window, picking the charred remains of clothes from a cardboard box that was labeled as having come from a burned vehicle. I said, “Hi, Ted.”

He grinned and pushed the box away. “You got plenty of nerve, Pat.”

“For this job I need it.” I reached in my pocket and took the slugs out I had dug from my wall and held them out to him.

“Comparison job?”

“Nope. Chemical analysis of the powder and metal.”

“Against what?”

“They were fired through a silencer. Unless it was cleaned thoroughly, which is unlikely, the same traces will be on the silencer.”

“Maybe,” he said. “Where’s the gimmick?”

I told him and watched the funny expression come over his face. “You’d better be sure, Regan.”

“What can I lose? You can get to it, can’t you?”

“No trouble. It makes me feel squeaky, that’s all.” He looked at the slugs again, his mouth tight. “What can it prove?”

“A link in the chain.”

I went to turn away when I saw his books on the shelf. One had a slip of white paper marking off a page and I caught the word SENTOL on it. Ted said, “All the available information is right there.”

“And you don’t think it was Sentol?”

He gave a slight shrug. “You never should have passed out. I told you that. Not unless you had a bellyful of aspirin.”

I swung around. “What?”

“Aspirin has a nullifying effect on the stimulant effect of Sentol.”

“Ted,” I said. “I had six aspirins before I went into the Climax that night.”

His eyes tightened up again. “You sure?”

“Hell, I can prove it. I bought them and took them right there in the drug store on the corner of the block. The clerk gave me a drink to wash them down.”

“That could have done it, then. But where did anybody get that damned drug?”

I let out a small laugh. “I bet I can guess. Want to work it out with me?”

“Damn right.”

“When they found the FS-7 at the Ross and Buttick warehouse, see who was on the detail. The records of assignment are available. Then check and see if any Sentol was in that consignment.”

Ted gave me a startled look and snapped his fingers. “Wait a minute, Regan. For that last part I don’t have to look. I remember it because we tested it in the lab. I was on vacation, but I saw the reports my assistant made out. Damn, I had forgotten about that.”

“Then get on the first part.”

“Will do.” He paused, cleared his throat and said, “The trial’s today, isn’t it?”

“This afternoon. Three o’clock.”

“Check back afterwards.”

“Either way it goes?”

“Either way.”

I reached George Lucas’ office just before noon and caught him at his desk going over his arguments in my behalf at the trial. He looked up, waved me to a chair and said, “We got a rough one here.”

“Argenio going to appear?”

“He doesn’t have to. His signed report is enough.” He put his pencil down and stared at me. “Why?”

I told him what I thought and watched him absorb it with interest. When I was done he said, “You’re taking long chances with guesswork.”

“It fits.”

“Wait till it’s proven.”

I threw the notes I had taken from Helen the Melons’ room on his desk. “How can I get some fast advice on those stocks?”

“Try your other lawyers, Selkirk and Selkirk. They’re in that business.”

“Give them a call.”

I listened while George put the call through and rattled off the list. There was a short wait while the elder Selkirk fed him back the information, then he hung up. “They said don’t buy in. It’s junk. Goes at a high price and brings back nothing. Like trying to pull an ace out of a deck with one try. Occasionally one comes through, but the odds are against it, sucker stuff.”

“What was the stuff worth?”

“About twenty grand worth in that list. That all?”

“As much as I know about.”

“The trap is tightening,” he smiled mirthlessly. “You think there’s more?”

“You can ask around. He might have a safety deposit box. If you want I know a guy who owes me a favor and wouldn’t mind going through his place looking for it”

“Don’t take the chance.”

“Maybe we won’t have to.” I got up and reached for his phone. “Mind?”

“Help yourself.”

I told his secretary to get me Jerry Nolan at the precinct station and perched on the desk while I waited for him to answer. He came on and said, “Nolan here.”

“Regan. What’s new?”

“Nothing. Now let me eat my lunch.”

I said, “You remember the dentist that confirmed the false teeth he made for Marcus?”

“Dr. Leonard Shipp. Now can I go eat?”

“Sure. See you later.”

I hung up and told George I’d be back in an hour to go over things with him. He wanted me to stick around, but there wasn’t enough time left any more. Things were beginning to move and I had to keep them going. I found Dr. Shipp listed in the directory and grabbed a cab to his West Side address, made him leave a patient to come out and talk to me, smelling of whatever was going on in his sterile white-tiled room.

He was a tall, angular man with impatient eyes behind his bifocals, annoyed at the interruption and wanting to get it over with quickly. He was the type who took the word “Police” at face value and didn’t bother to ask about a badge.

“You had Leo Marcus as a patient for some time, didn’t you?”

“I thought that was all over.”

“Other pertinent details have come up.”

His head jerked in a curt nod. “Mr. Marcus was a patient for some years. I extracted all his teeth and made the plates for him. There was no doubt about it. They were specially made and quite expensive. In fact, I made two sets for him.”

“Oh?”

“Very common procedure. A lost or broken set can be very embarrassing.”

“No difference?”

“They were identical.”

“Thanks, doctor.”