Микки Спиллейн - The Long Wait

I had my beer and went next door where there was no blue sign in the window. Beer was a dime, but there weren’t any customers, either. The bartender was feeding the relic of a slot machine until he saw me. I said, “Where’d that come from?”

“Boss had it in his cellar ever since Prohibition. What’ll you have?”

“Beer. Where’s the crowd?”

“You new around here?”

“Yeah.”

“Oh. They come in later. They get squeezed outa the other joints or run out of dough. Then we get ’em here.”

“You ought to get in some slots.”

“Yeah, tell that to the boss. He’s one of them rugged individuals, he is.”

“He won’t play Servo’s game, hey?”

“I thought you was new around here.”

“Hell, this town makes the news all over.”

“Yeah. Another beer?”

“One more.” He set it up for me, had one with me, then I asked, “Look, maybe you can help me out. I’m looking for a girl named Vera West. She’s a relative of mine, see? About five years ago she got in some kind of a jam at the bank here in town, then went to the dogs. She used to go around with Servo.”

The bartender sipped his beer and made circles with the glass on the bar. “Servo has lots of women.”

“This one was a blonde, a real honey blonde.”

“Nice build?”

I couldn’t say for sure, but women take care of those things if they haven’t already got them so I just nodded.

“He had one tomato a long time ago who was a knockout. She was a blonde.”

“Remember her name?”

He made more circles with the glass. “Mac, if I did know I don’t think I’d tell you. I’m a family man. I work here and let it go at that.”

“Servo’s trouble?” I tried to act surprised.

“Not personally... he’s too much of a big shot to do his own knuckle-work. Let’s quit asking questions.”

“Sure, sure,” I agreed “but you know how it is. I’d like to find her.”

He spoke more to the open door than to me. “The babes Servo makes usually wind up in the cellar. Try the red light district once.”

I tossed the beer down and pushed the change out to him. “I’ll do that Thanks.” He picked up the change with a nod and was feeding it in the slot when I went out the door.

It was hot as hell again. The sky was a hazy gray and over in the east I could see the outlines of an early thunderstorm building up. It didn’t seem to bother any of the people on the street Not with all those nice air-conditioned places with the blue signs in the window to wait out the weather. That was another monopoly Servo seemed to have.

I took it easy walking down the street, acting like I had all the time in the world on my hands. I spent an hour at it, getting an idea of what made the city tick. There were a lot of things that helped, like the cops who poured the coal on the residents for parking overtime while anybody with a tag from outside the city got away with murder. Practically.

Like the candy store where I bought the paper and saw a guy in a flashy sports outfit stuff a roll of bills in a briefcase and hand it over to another guy who had a car waiting outside.

Like the women who had everything but “for rent” signs hanging from their nipples cruising the streets for customers.

Like the expensive-looking guy who had an early load on being helped into a police car very gently with orders from the bar owner to see that he got to the train station safely.

Like the shoeshine boys who charged a half a buck for a polish and rub then griped when there wasn’t any tip besides.

Oh, Lyncastle was a great town. Great.

Then I saw Lindsey. He was having a coke at the counter of a modern version of an old general store. The sign over the front read “Philbert’s” in neon script and a directory listed what was to be found inside. Food and drugs on the left. Sodas on the right and beer further back. Hardware, paints and home supplies up the middle aisles. Printing, photostating and office supplies in the back.

I walked in and sat down beside him. Like the spider and Miss Muffet. I said, “Howdy, pardner,” and he didn’t even look at me. His face seemed to puff up around his mouth and the straw flattened out from too much pressure at the top. I said, “Cat got your tongue?”

He turned around slowly. “Johnny, you’re too goddamned wise for your own good.”

“So I’ve been told.”

“I’m telling you again.”

“Then get some smarter cops. That deal you pulled this morning stunk.”

“You seem to know a lot about cops.”

I ordered a coke and a sandwich for myself. “I do... about the kind you have in this burg. You know about them?”

“I know about them.” His voice was a flat snarl.

“Then keep them off my back, Lindsey. When you slap me with a murder charge you can do what you damn well please, but until then, lay off.”

“You bastard!” He almost whispered it.

I took a bite of my sandwich and grinned at him. “You know it’s a wonder you don’t at least ask me whether or not I killed your friend.”

He was so mad he could hardly speak. “I don’t have to!”

“Don’t then, but if you’re the least bit interested, I didn’t kill anybody.”

His teeth made a white pattern under his lips and in the mirror behind the counter I couldn’t see his eyes at all. I went ahead and finished my sandwich, drowning it with my coke. When I was done I shoved a quarter across the counter and picked a cigarette out of Lindsey’s pack.

“Someday... if you get around to it, try giving me a lie-detector test,” I said. “I won’t mind a bit.”

He stopped playing with the straw and his eyes came open enough so I could see the color of them. They were blue. His mouth relaxed and that puffed-up business went away. He didn’t get it. Not a bit. So I let him sit there until he did get it.

The National bank of Lyncastle was a white stone building that occupied half a city block in the heart of town. I got in a few minutes before closing when the place was about empty and I wasn’t there two seconds before I noticed the sudden silence. It was a dead kind of silence that comes when machines stop operating and people are momentarily stunned.

There was a uniformed guard standing behind one of those glass-topped tables trying to decide between pulling his gun out and saying hello. I said hello first, so he didn’t pull his gun out. He swallowed hard, looked a little foolish and said tentatively, “Johnny?”

“Who else, Pop?”

He gulped again, his eyes darting around for advice that didn’t come.

“Where’s Mr. Gardiner, Pop?”

“In... his office.”

“Feel like telling him I’m out here?”

He didn’t feel like it, but he picked up the wall phone anyway. He didn’t have to. The gate down the end swung open and the guy standing there couldn’t have been anything else but the president. I started the walk across the marble floor and heard the last closing of the bronze doors behind me.

“Hello, Mr. Gardiner.”

Amazement. Nothing but pure amazement was there on his face. Havis Gardiner was one of those tall, spare guys with graying hair like you see in the ads, only now he resembled a kid seeing a circus for the first time. Too damn excited to do anything but stare.

I said, “I want to speak to you alone.”

“Of all the colossal nerve...” The amazement made a quick change into fury.

“Yeah, I have that, Mr. Gardiner. I still want to talk to you in private. In case you’re worried, the police know I’m in town. Now, do we talk?”

His lips pressed together. “I’m at a board meeting.” I grinned at him just once and his hands made tight fists. “It can be postponed for this,” he added.