Mickey Spillane - The Big Kill

Neither of the guys behind me dared risk a shot, but they did just as well. One of them brought a gun barrel around as hard as he could. There wasn't even any pain to it, just a loud click that grew into a thunderous wave of sound that threw me flat on the floor and rolled over me.

The pain didn't come until later. It wasn't there in my head where I thought it would be. It was all over, a hundred agonizing points of torture where the toe of a shoe had ripped through my clothes and torn into the skin. Something dripped slowly and steadily like a leaky faucet. Every movement sent the pain shooting up from my feet and if screaming wouldn't have only made it worse I would have screamed. I got one eye open. The other was covered by a puffy mass of flesh on my cheekbone that kept it shut.

Somebody said, "He's awake."

"He'll get it worse this time."

"I'll tell you when." The voice was so decisive that nobody gave it to me worse.

I managed to focus the one good eye then. It was pointed at the floor looking at my feet. They were together at attention strapped to the rungs of a chair. My arms weren't there at all so I guess that they were tied someplace behind the same chair. And the drip wasn't from the faucet at all.

It was from something on my face that used to be a nose.

Somehow, I dragged myself straight up. It didn't hurt so bad then. When the fuzziness went away I squinted my one good eye against the light and saw them sitting around like vultures waiting for the victim to die. The two boys with the rods over by the door and Lou Grindle holding a bloody towel to his mouth.

And Ed Teen perched on the edge of the leather armchair with his chin propped on a cane. He still looked like a banker, even to the gray Homburg.

He stared at me very thoughtfully for a minute. "Feel pretty bad?"

"Guess." The one word almost choked me.

"It wasn't necessary, you know. We just wanted to talk to you. Everything would have been quite friendly." He smiled. "Now we have to tie you down until we're finished talking."

Lou threw the towel at me. "Christ, quit stalling around with him. I'll make him talk in a hurry."

"Shut up." Ed didn't even stop smiling. "You're lucky I'm here. Lou is rather impulsive."

I didn't answer him.

He said, "It was too bad you had to kill Toady, Mr. Hammer. He was very valuable to me."

I got the words out. "You're nuts."

He pushed himself up off the cane and leaned back in the chair. "Don't bother with explanations. I'm not the police. If you killed him that's your business. What I want is what's my business. Where is it?"

My lips felt too thick to put any conviction in my voice. "I don't know what the hell you're talking about."

"Remind him, Lou."

Then he sat back chewing on a cigar and watched it. Lou didn't use his foot this time. The wet towel around his fist was enough. He was good at the job, but I had taken so much the first time that even the half-consciousness I had left went fast.

I tried to stay that way and couldn't. My head twitched and Teen said metallically, "Now do you remember?"

I only had to shake my head once and that fist clubbed it again. It went on and on and on until there was no pain at all and I could laugh when he talked to me and try to smile when the delivery boy in the corner got sick and turned his head away to puke.

Ed rapped the cane on the floor. "Enough. That's enough. He can't feel it any more. Let him sit and think about it a few minutes."

Lou was glad to do that. He was breathing hard through his mouth and his chin was covered with blood. He went over and sat down at the table to massage his hand. Lou was very happy.

The cane kept up a rhythm on the floor. "This is only the beginning you know. There's absolutely no necessity for it."

I managed to say, "I didn't... kill Link."

"It doesn't matter whether you did or not. I want what you took from his apartment."

Lou started to cough and spat blood on the floor. He gagged, put his hand to his mouth and pushed a couple of teeth into his palm with his tongue. When he brought his head up his eyes bored into mine like deadly little black bullets. "I'm going to kill that son of a bitch!"

"You sit there and shut up. You'll do what I say."

He was on his feet with his hands apart fighting to keep himself from tearing Teen's throat out with his fingers. Ed wasn't so easy to scare. The snub-nosed gun in his hand said so.

Lou's face was livid with rage. "Damn you anyway. Damn you and Fallon and Link and the whole stinking mess of you!"

"You're lisping, Lou. Sit down." Lou sat down and stared at his teeth some more. He was proud of those teeth. They were so nice and shiny.

They lay where they were dropped on the table and seemed to fascinate him. He kept feeling his gums as though he couldn't believe it, cursing his heart out in black rage. Ed's gun never left him for a second. Right then Lou was in a killing rage and ready to take it out on anybody.

He kept saying over and over, "Goddamn every one of 'em! Goddamn 'em all!" His mouth drew back baring the gap in his teeth and he slammed the table with his fist. "Goddamn, this wouldn't've happened if you'd let me do it my way! I would've killed Fallon and that lousy whore he kept and Link and this wouldn't've happened!" I got the eyes this time. They came around slow and evilly. "I'll kill you for it, too."

"You'll get new teeth, Lou," Ed said pleasantly. Everything he said was pleasant.

Grindle gagged again and walked out of the room. Water started to run in a bowl somewhere and he made sloshing noises as he washed out his mouth. Ed smiled gently. "You hit him where he hurts the most... in his vanity."

"Where does it hurt you the most, Ed?"

"A lot of people would like to know that."

"I know." I tried to grin at him. My face wouldn't wrinkle. "It's going to hurt you in two places. Especially when they shave the hair off your head and leg."

"I think," he told me, "that when Lou comes back I'll let him do you up right."

"You mean... like old times when Fallon pulled the strings... with cigar butts and pliers?"

His nostrils flared briefly. "If you have to say something at all, tell me where it is."

"Where what is?"

The water was still running inside. Without turning his head Ed called, "Johnny. Give it to him."

The big guy came over. Under his shirt his stomach made peculiar rolling motions. His techniques stunk. His fist made a solid chunk against my chin and I went out like a light. They poured cold water over me so I'd wake up and watch it happen all over again.

It started to get longer between rounds. I would come only partially back out of that jet-black land of nowhere and hang there limply. The big guy's voice was a hoarse croak. "He's done, Ed. I don't think he knows what you're talking about."

"He knows." His cane tapped the floor again. "Give him another dousing."

I got the water treatment again. It washed the blood out of my eyes so I could see again and the shock of it cleared my mind enough to think.

Ed knew when I was awake. He had a cigar lit and gazed at the cherry-red end of it speculatively. "You can hear me?"

I nodded that I could.

"Then understand something. I shall ask you just once more. Remember this, if you're dead you can't use what you have."

"Tell... me what the hell... you want."

Only for a second did his eyes go to the pair leaning on the window sill. If they weren't there I would have had it, but whatever I was supposed to know was too much for their big ears. "You know very well what I mean. You've been trouble from the very first moment. I know you too well, Mr. Hammer. You're only a private investigator, but you've killed people before. In your own way you're quite as ruthless as I am... but not quite as smart. That's why I'm sitting here and you're sitting there. Keep what you have. I've no doubt that it's hidden some place you alone can get it, and after you're dead nobody else will find it. Not in my time at least. Johnny... go see what's keeping Lou."