Mickey Spillane - The Girl Hunters

"That's nice."

He was a mean, cold cop if ever there was one, his face a mask you couldn't penetrate until you looked into his eyes and saw the hate and determination there. "Where do you find your connections, Mike?"

"Why?"

"It's peculiar how a busted private dick, a damn drunken pig in trouble up to his ears can get a gun-carrying privilege we can't break. How do you do it, punk?"

I shrugged, not feeling like arguing with him. Laura looked at the two of us, wondering what was going on.

"Well, you might need it at that if you keep getting shot at. By the way, I got a description of your back alley friend. He was seen by a rather observant kid in the full light of the street lamp. Big guy, about six-two with dark curly hair and a face with deep lines in the cheeks. His cheekbones were kind of high so he had kind of an Indian look. Ever see anybody like that?"

He was pushing me now, doing anything to set me off so he'd have a reason to get at me but sure, I saw a guy like that. He drove past me on the Thruway and I thought he was a tired driver, then he shot at me later and now I know damn well who he is. You call him The Dragon. He had a face I'd see again someday, a face I couldn't miss.

I said, "No, I don't know him." It wasn't quite a lie.

Pat smiled sardonically, "I have a feeling you will."

"So okay, I'll try to catch up with him for you."

"You do that, punk. Meanwhile I'll catch up with you. I'm putting you into this thing tighter than ever."

"Me?"

"That's right. That's why I'm glad you're here. It saves seeing you later." He had me curious now and knew it, and he was going to pull it out all the way. "There is a strange common denominator running throughout our little murder puzzle here. I'm trying to find out just what it all means."

"Please go on," Laura said.

"Gems. For some reason I can't get them out of my mind. Three times they cross in front of me." He looked at me, his eyes narrowed, "The first time when my old friend here let a girl die because of them, then when Senator Knapp was killed a batch of paste jewels were taken from the safe, and later a man known for his gem smuggling was killed with the same gun. It's a recurrent theme, isn't it, Mike? You're supposed to know about these things. In fact, it must have occurred to you too. You were quick enough about getting upstate to see Mrs. Knapp here."

"Listen, Pat."

"Shut up. There's more." He reached in his pocket and tugged at a cloth sack. "We're back to the gems again." He pulled the top open, spilled the sack upside down and watched the flood of rings, brooches and bracelets make a sparkling mound of brilliance on the table between us.

"Paste, pure paste, Mrs. Knapp, but I think they are yours."

Her hand was shaking when she reached out to touch them. She picked up the pieces one by one, examining them, then shaking her head. "Yes--they're mine! But where--"

"A pathetic old junkman was trying to peddle them in a pawnshop. The broker called the cops and we grabbed the guy. He said he found them in a garbage can a long time ago and kept them until now to sell. He figured they were stolen, all right, but didn't figure he'd get picked up like he did."

"Make your connection, Pat. So far all you showed was that a smart crook recognized paste jewelry and dumped it."

His eyes had a vicious cast to them this time. "I'm just wondering about the original gem robbery, the one your agency was hired to prevent. The name was Mr. and Mrs. Rudolph Civac. I'm wondering what kind of a deal was really pulled off there. "You sent in Velda but wouldn't go yourself. I'm thinking that maybe you turned sour away back there and tried for a big score and fouled yourself up in it somehow."

His hands weren't showing so I knew one was sitting on a gun butt. I could feel myself going around the edges but hung on anyway. "You're nuts," I said, "I never even saw Civac. He made the protection deal by phone. I never laid eyes on him."

Pat felt inside his jacket and came out with a four-by five glossy photo. "Well take a look at what your deceased customer looked like. I've been backtracking all over that case, even as cold as it is. Something's going to come up on it, buddy boy, and I hope you're square in the middle of it." He forgot me for a moment and turned to Laura. "Do you positively identify these, Mrs. Knapp?"

"Oh, yes. There's an accurate description of each piece on file and on the metal there's--"

"I saw the hallmarks."

"This ring was broken--see here where this prong is off--yes, these are mine."

"Fine. You can pick them up at my office tomorrow if you want to. I'll have to hold them until then though."

"That's all right."

He snatched the picture out of my fingers and put it back in his pocket. "You I'll be seeing soon," he told me.

I didn't answer him. I nodded, but that was all. He looked at me a moment, scowled, went to say something and changed his mind. He told Laura goodbye and walked to the door.

Fresh drinks came and I finished mine absently. Laura chuckled once and I glanced up. "You've been quiet a long time. Aren't we going to do the town?"

"Do you mind if we don't?"

She raised her eyebrows, surprised, but not at all unhappy. "No, do you want to do something else?"

"Yes. Think."

"Your place?" she asked mischievously.

"I don't have a place except my office."

"We've been there before," she teased.

But I had kissed Velda there too many times before too. "No," I said.

Laura leaned forward; serious now. "It's important, isn't it?"

"Yes."

"Then let's get out of the city entirely. Let's go back upstate to where it's cool and quiet and you can think right. Would you like to do that?"

"All right."

I paid the bill and we went outside to the night and the rain to flag down a cab to get us to the parking lot. She had to do it for me because the only thing I could think of was the face in that picture Pat had showed me.

Rudolph Civac was the same as Gerald Erlich.

Chapter 10

I couldn't remember the trip at all. I was asleep before we reached the West Side Drive and awakened only when she shook me. Her voice kept calling to me out of a fog and for a few seconds I thought it was Velda, then I opened my eyes and Laura was smiling at me. "We're home, Mike."

The rain had stopped, but in the stillness of the night I could hear the soft dripping from the shadows of the blue spruces around the house. Beyond them a porch and inside light threw out a pale yellow glow. "Won't your servants have something to say about me coming in?"

"No, I'm alone at night. The couple working for me come only during the day."

"I haven't seen them yet."

"Each time you were here they had the day off."

I made an annoyed grimace. "You're nuts, kid. You should keep somebody around all the time after what happened."

Her hand reached out and she traced a line around my mouth. "I'm trying to," she said. Then she leaned over and brushed me with lips that were gently damp and sweetly warm, the tip of her tongue a swift dart of flame, doing it too quickly for me to grab her to make it last.

"Quit brainwashing me," I said.

She laughed at me deep in her throat. "Never, Mister Man. I've been too long without you."

Rather than hear me answer she opened the door and slid out of the car. I came around from the other side and we went up the steps into the house together. It was a funny feeling, this coming home sensation. There was the house and the woman and the mutual desire, an instinctive demanding passion we shared, one for the other, yet realizing that there were other things that came first and not caring because there was always later.

There was a huge couch in the living room of soft, aged leather, a hidden hi-fi that played Dvorak, Beethoven and Tchaikovsky and somewhere in between Laura had gotten into yards of flowing nylon that did nothing to hide the warmth of her body or restrain the luscious bloom of her thighs and breasts. She lay there in my arms quietly, giving me all of the moment to enjoy as I pleased, only her sometimes-quickened breathing indicating her pleasure as I touched her lightly, caressing her with my fingertips. Her eyes were closed, a small satisfied smile touched the corners of her mouth and she snuggled into me with a sigh of contentment.