Mickey Spillane - The Big Kill

When the players moved it was with deliberate slowness so you could watch every move. I stood there in the center of the compound and realized that it was all being done for my benefit without understanding why. It was a scene of impending action the evil of it symbolized by the lone shadow of the vulture wheeling high above in a gray, dismal sky.

I waited and watched, knowing that it had all happened before and was going to happen again and this time I would see every move and understand each individual action. I tried to concentrate on the players until I realized that I wasn't the only audience they had. Someone else was there in the compound with me. She was a woman. She had no face. She was a woman in black hovering behind me. I called to her and received no answer. I tried to walk to her, but she was always the same distance away without seeming to move at all. I ran on leaden feet without getting any closer, and tiring of the chase turned back to the play.

It was over and I had missed it again.

I said something vile to the woman because she had caused me to miss it and she shrank back, disappearing into the mist.

But the play wasn't over, not quite. At first I thought they were taking a curtain call, then I realized that their faces were hideous things and in unreal voices of pure silences they were all screaming for me to stop her and bring her back. Teen and Grindle and Link were slavering in their fury as they tried to break through the transparent wall and were thrown back to the ground. Their faces were contorted and their hands curved into talons. I laughed at them and they stopped, stunned, then withdrew out of sight.

The gray and noiseless compound dissolved into sound and yellow light. I was rocked gently from side to side and a voice said, "Mike... please wake up."

I opened my one eye and the other came open with it a little bit. "Marsha?"

"You were talking in your sleep. Are you awake, Mike?"

She looked tired. The nurse behind her looked tired too. The boy in her arms was smiling at me. "I'm awake, honey." I made a motion for her to pull down the shade. "Same day?"

"No, you slept all through yesterday, all night and most of today."

I rubbed my face. Some of the puffiness had gone down. "Lord. What time is it?"

"Almost four-thirty. Mike... that Captain Chambers is on the phone. Can you answer him?"

"Yeah, I'll get it. Let me get something on."

I struggled into my pants, swearing when I hit a raw spot. I was covered with adhesive tape and iodine, but the agony of moving was only a soreness now. I padded outside and picked up the phone. "Hello..."

"Where've you been, Mike? I told you to call me."

"Oh, shut up. I've been asleep."

"I hope you're awake now. The D.A. found Grindle."

"Good."

"Now he wants you."

"What's it this time, a homicide charge?"

"There's no charge. I explained that away. He wants Teen and he thinks you're pulling a fast one again."

"What's the matter with the guy?"

"Put yourself in his shoes and you'll see. The guy is fighting to hang onto his job."

"Christ, I gave him enough. What does he want... blood? Did he expect me to get Teen the hard way for him?"

"Don't be a jerk, Mike. He doesn't want Teen dead. He doesn't want a simple obit in the papers. He wants Teen in court so he can blow the whole thing wide open before the public. That's the only thing that will keep him in office."

"What happened to tin ear?"

"All the guy had was the telephone number of a booth in Grand Central Station. If he didn't call in every hour it meant there was trouble. We traced the number and there was nobody around. The guy worked through an intermediary who passed the information on to the right people. Both of them got paid off the same way... a bundle of cash by mail on the first of every month."

"I suppose Ed Teen's laughing his head off."

"Not exactly, but he's grinning broadly. We checked his alibi for the night before last and it's perfect. You know and I know that it's phoney as hell, but nobody is breaking it down in court. According to Teen the entire thing is preposterous. He was playing cards with a group of friends right through the night."

"Nuts. His story is as old as his racket. One good session under the lights and he'll talk."

"You don't put him under lights."

"There're other things you can do," I suggested.

"You don't do that either, Mike. Teen's going around under the watchful eye of a battery of lawyers well protected by a gang of licensed strong-arm boys. You try anything smart and it'll be your neck."

"Great. Now what's with the D.A.?"

It was a moment before he said anything. "Mike... are you on the level with me?"

"You know everything I know, Pat. Why?"

"You're going to be tied up with our boy for a long time if you don't get a move on," he said. "And by the way, call Ellen when you have time. She wants to talk to you."

"She there now?"

"No, she left a little while ago. I got something else for you.

The playboy is back."

"Marvin Holmes?"

"Yeah. Customs passed the word on to us but it was too late to stop him. We traced him as far as New York and lost him here. The last lead we had said he was with a foreign-looking blonde and was doing his damnedest to stay under cover."

I let it run through my mind a minute. "He's still scared of something."

"It looks that way. I'm hoping to pick him up some time today. He's too well known to stay hidden long. Look, you give me a call when you have time. I have to get going now. This place is a madhouse. I wish the D.A. would operate out of his own office for a change."

I heard the click of his receiver cutting off the connection. Good old Pat. We still played on the same ball team. He was still worrying about me enough to want me to pick my own time and place when I had a long talk with the District Attorney.

Marsha was propped against the corner of the couch yawning. "We have to scram, kid."

Her mouth came shut. "Something wrong?"

"People want to talk to me and I can't afford the time. I want to go someplace and think. I want to be where nobody'll bother me for a week if I don't feel like seeing them."

"Well... we can go to my place. I won't bother you, Mike. I just want to crawl in bed and sleep forever."

"Okay. Get your things on. I'll get dressed."

I went back to the bedroom and finished putting on my clothes. There was a light tap on the door and I yelled come on in. The nurse opened the door and stood there holding the boy's hand. He would have been content to stay there, only he spotted the sling of the shoulder holster dangling from the dresser and made a dash for it.

This time she grabbed him before he was halfway there and dragged him back.

"I wish he liked his toys that way," she said.

"Maybe he'll grow up to be a cop."

I got a disapproving look for that. "I hope not!" she paused. "Miss Lee tells me you have to leave again."

"That's right."

"Then perhaps you'll do me a favor."

"Sure."

"They came to repaint my apartment this morning. I was wondering if you'd mind my staying here tonight."

"Go right ahead. You'll be doing me the favor if you stay. If anybody calls tell them I'm out, you don't know where I am, nor when I'll be back. Okay?"

A frown creased her forehead. "You... expect callers?" There was a tremulous note in her voice.

I laughed at her and shook my head. "Not that kind. They'll be respectable enough."

She sighed uncertainly and took the kid back to the living room with her. I finished tying my shoes, strapped the gun around my chest and picked my jacket off a coat hanger in the closet. My other suit was draped over the back of the chair and a quick inspection said that it wasn't worth wearing any more. I emptied out the pockets on the dresser, rolled them up in a tight ball and carried them out to the kitchen. I stuffed them into the garbage can on top of the kid's old clothes, pressed the lid down tight and shoved the can back into the corner.