Микки Спиллейн - The Long Wait

The eyes got some recognition in them briefly. He mumbled, “... Doctor... need... doctor,” then the rain put the match out anyway, but it didn’t matter because the guy was dead.

Tough. Ha.

I flipped open his jacket and lifted out his gun. I took the shoulder harness off too and tossed it as far as I could. The gun I dropped in my pocket. Then I found his wallet. There was one thousand bucks in hundred-dollar bills tucked behind two fives and a one. The grand went in with the gun and I put the rest back in his wallet and stuck it in his coat.

Now the cops and the papers could blame the accident on a guy who had too much of what was for sale in Lyncastle.

Now I could go back and ask Eddie Packman what the guy did to earn a grand and maybe squeeze him a little to make him talk.

So I went back to the joint with the fancy French name and made some discreet inquires concerning Mr. Packman’s whereabouts. Only that man wasn’t around. He had left twenty minutes before with a party and was someplace in town having himself a time. Nobody knew where.

I said to hell with it and had a drink. The lousy beer sat there in my stomach and growled at me because I had too much to drink and not enough to eat. That, at least, I could take care of. I got back in the car, drove out past the bus station to the highway and kept on going until I came to Louis Dinero’s place. The gun made a bulge in my pocket so I slid it behind the cushions and went in.

Wendy was just coming on with her number and the patrons were letting out a long “Ahaaa” of satisfaction. I let out one myself and watched her step up to the mike. There was a baby spot behind her that shone right through the white dress she had on and the only thing you couldn’t see was what was on the other side. She was real pretty to look at, especially with all that skin showing. I slid into a table, told a waiter to bring me a steak, rare, then had a butt while Wendy made with some gentle spasms here and there until the dress seemed to crawl right off her.

I looked around at all those jerks, watching the frozen expression of their faces, the too-plain lust in their eyes and all of a sudden I got mad — at Wendy. I didn’t like for a babe to show off to a pack of stiffs what she showed me in private.

Then I felt like one of the jerks myself and dropped it. She was just another sugar cutie, a little better than most, but her hair came out of a bottle and up close her eyes were hard around the edges. So she liked to play games and who the hell was I to complain about it? The waiter brought my steak, I ate my way through it, paid my bill then caught Louie’s eye and he waved me over.

The guy had a memory like an elephant and gave me a regular glad hand. When I asked him if it’d be okay for me to see Wendy backstage he told me sure and showed me where the entrance was to the dressing rooms. So I went back, found the door with W. M. lettered on it, turned the knob and shoved the door open.

I should have knocked first.

She was just slipping out of the dress, a tan velvet animated thing partially hidden by the swirl of the translucent fabric. The lights from the dressing table behind her brought out the strong surge of youth in her body, the firm, sweeping curves of her breasts underlined by a stomach so flat it looked almost sucked-in and held in place with a play of muscles that danced as she moved.

This is the way her act should have ended. I thought. It would have been pure art. She almost had the thing off when the band outside hit a chord and she knew the door was open. The second she saw me she looked like a frightened fawn ready to bolt, then she had the dress up in front of her and backed away from me with her eyes wide.

I grinned because she was worried about the inevitable and it had stayed hidden. I said, “You do remember me, don’t you?”

She licked her lips and a frown worked its way into her eyes. “Okay, kid, don’t drop dead from fright on me, will you? I’ve seen you like that before only it was better in the moonlight.”

“You... startled me, Johnny. You should’ve knocked.”

“It occurred to me too late.”

“Well, if you don’t mind, play the gentleman for a second and turn your back. Moonlight and unshaded bulbs are two different things.”

She threw me one of those funny smiles and I turned around. Women can sure get some screwy ideas. I said, “Got any plans for tonight?”

I guess she took me wrong. The way she said no was as if I’d just slapped her across the jaw.

“Not those kind of plans, Wendy. I meant were you figuring on doing anything tonight.”

“Just go home to bed. I’m pretty tired.”

“Like to take in the town some?”

She didn’t say anything. I turned around and she was bent over peering into the mirror with a lipstick in her hand. The harsh light of the naked bulbs made her hair look like it had been painted on, but not deep enough. It was showing dark down around the scalp. I said, “Well?”

“Not... tonight, Johnny. I’m too tired.”

“It’s pretty important.”

The lipstick poised an inch away from her mouth. “Go on.”

“The last of the unholy trio who tried to dump me in the quarry is out on the main highway in two pieces.”

Her face made a grimace of horror before she spoke. “Did you...”

“I would’ve if I could’a caught him. He wrapped his car up.”

“But what’s that got to do with tonight?”

I looked at her and grinned a little bit, then slid into a wicker chair and lit a butt. “He had a thousand bucks in his pocket. All nice, new bills. It was pay-off dough.” I blew a finger of smoke into the lights and watched it roll up toward the ceiling. “He got that dough from a guy named Eddie Packman. I want to find that boy. Tonight.”

“And you want me to go with you?”

“Uh-huh.”

“No.” She turned back to the mirror and drew the lipstick across her mouth slowly. Our eyes met in the mirror and held. “Johnny... look, I know how you feel and all... but I like to live. You’re trouble, bad trouble. You haven’t been here any time at all and already three people are dead.”

“It’s only the beginning, kid.”

“I... know.” She dropped her head, then turned away from me quickly. “Do you... mind too much?”

I shrugged carelessly. “Not that much, sugar. A guy can do more when he’s not solo, that’s why I want company. Hell, half those fancy clip joints won’t even let you on the floor when you haven’t got a babe under your arm.”

She slipped the lipstick back in its case and stared at it. Her head came up in a slow arc and she let her eyes roam over my face. “Sometimes...” she began.

“Yeah?”

“Maybe it would have been better if you had stayed away, Johnny.”

“Better for who, sugar? Better for a slob of a killer who’s out enjoying himself?”

“I didn’t mean that.”

Maybe it was the light that made her eyes look so misty. I couldn’t be sure so I stepped up to her for a better look and it wasn’t the light at all. They were misty and getting wetter until they swam in their own sadness. She smiled a little crookedly and reached for my hand.

“I’m a sad sack, aren’t I?” she said. “I haven’t got any shame... any sense. I’m sorry I’m silly, Johnny.”

“You aren’t silly.”

Outside, the band swung into a slow waltz, a tired song that drifted in through the walls like a vapor and wrapped around us. She had the light behind her like the sun filtering through a haystack and a tear was ready to roll down each cheek. “You aren’t silly,” I said again.

“I was doing fine until you came along. There’s a hundred men out there who’d love to make love to me and the only one I want is you.”