Mickey Spillane: Everybody's Watching Me

“Somebody who’s been around. You know the answers, don’t you?”

“All of them, Captain. The questions, too.”

I was forgotten. I was something that didn’t matter and I was happy about it.

Helen said, “What do you think about Renzo, Captain?”

“He stinks. He operates outside city limits where the police have no jurisdiction and he has the county police sewed up. I think he has some of my men sewed up too. I can’t be sure but I wish I were. He’s got a record in two states, he’s clean here. I’d like to pin a few jobs on that guy. There’s no evidence, yet he pulled them. I know this…if I start investigating I’m going to have some wheels on my neck.”

Helen nodded. “I could add more. It really doesn’t matter. You know what happened to Jack Cooley?”

Gerot’s face looked mean. “I know I’ve had the papers and the state attorney climb me for it.”

“I don’t mean that.”

The captain dropped his face in his hands resignedly, wiped his eyes and looked up again. “His car was found with bullet holes in it. The quantity of blood in the car indicated that nobody could have spilled that much and kept on living. We never found the body.”

“You know why he died?”

“Who knows? I can guess from what I heard. He crossed Renzo, some said. I even picked up some info that said he was in the narcotics racket. He had plenty of cash and no place to show where it came from.”

“Even so, Captain, if it was murder, and Renzo’s behind it, you’d like it to be paid for.”

The light blue of Gerot’s eyes softened dangerously. “One way or another…if you must know.”

“It could happen. Who is Vetter?”

He leaned back in his chair and folded his hands behind his neck. “I could show you reams of copy written about that guy. I could show you transcripts of statements we’ve taken down and copies that the police in other cities have sent out. I could show you all that but I can’t pull out a picture and I can’t drop in a print number on the guy. The people who got to know him and who finally saw him, all seem to be dead.”

My voice didn’t sound right. “Dead?”

Gerot’s hands came down and flattened on the desk. “The guy’s a killer. He’s wanted every place I could think of. Word has it that he’s the one who bumped Tony Briggs in Chicago. When Birdie Cullen was going to sing to the grand jury, somebody was paid fifty thousand to cool him off and Vetter collected from the syndicate. Vetter was paid another ten to knock off the guy who paid him the first time so somebody could move into his spot.”

“So far he’s only a name, Captain?”

“Not quite. We have a few details on him but we can’t give them out. That much you understand, of course.”

“Of course. But I’m still interested.”

“He’s tough. He seems to know things and do things nobody else would touch. He’s a professional gunman in the worst sense of the word and he’ll sell that gun as long as the price is right.”

Helen crossed her legs with a motion that brought her whole body into play. “Supposing, Captain, that this Vetter was a friend of Jack Cooley? Supposing he got mad at the thought of his friend being killed and wanted to do something about it?”

Gerot said, “Go on.”

“What would you do, Captain?”

The smile went up one side of his face. “Most likely nothing.” He sat back again. “Nothing at all…until it happened.”

“Two birds with one stone, Captain? Let Vetter get Renzo…and you get Vetter?”

“The papers would like that,” he mused.

“No doubt.” Helen seemed to uncoil from the chair. I stood up too and that’s when I found out just how shrewd the captain was. He didn’t bother to look at Helen at all. His blue eyes were all on me and being very, very sleepy.

“Where do you come in, kid?” he asked me.

Helen said it for me. “Vetter gave him a warning note to hand to Renzo.”

Gerot smiled silently and you could see that he had the whole picture in his mind. He had our faces, he knew who she was and all about her, he was thinking of me and wanted to know all about me. He would. He was that kind of cop. You could tell.

We stood on the steps of the building and the cops coming in gave her the kind of look every man on the street gave her. Appreciative. It made me feel good just to be with her. I said, “He’s a smart cop.”

“They’re all smart. Some are just smarter than others.” A look of impatience crossed her face. “He said something…”

“Reams of copy?” I suggested.

I was easy for her to smile at. She didn’t have to look up or down. Just a turn of her head. “Bright boy.”

She took my hand and this time I led the way. I took her to the street I knew. It was off the main drag and the people on it had a look in their eyes you don’t see uptown. It was a place where the dames walked at night and followed you into bars if they thought you had an extra buck to pass out.

They’re little joints, most of them. They don’t have neon lights and padded stools, but when a guy talks he says something and doesn’t play games. There’s excitement there and always that feeling that something is going to happen.

One of those places was called The Clipper and the boys from the News made it their hangout. Cagey boys with the big think under their hats. Fast boys with a buck and always ready to pay off on something hot. Guys who took you like you were and didn’t ask too many questions.

My kind of people.

Bucky Edwards was at his usual stool getting a little bit potted because it was his day off. I got the big stare and the exaggerated wink when he saw the blonde which meant I’d finally made good about dragging one in with me. I didn’t feel like bragging, though. I brought Helen over, went to introduce her, but Bucky said, “Hi, Helen. Never thought I’d see you out in the daylight,” before I could pass on her name.

“Okay, so you caught a show at the Hideaway,” I said. “We have something to ask you.”

“Come on, Joe. Let the lady ask me alone.”

“Lay off. We want to know about Vetter.”

The long eyebrows settled down low. He looked at me, then Helen, then back at me again. “You’re making big sounds, boy.”

I didn’t want anyone else in on it. I leaned forward and said, “He’s in town, Bucky. He’s after Renzo.”

He let out a long whistle. “Who else knows about it?”

“Gerot. Renzo. Us.”

“There’s going to be trouble, sure.”

Helen said, “Only for Renzo,”

Bucky’s head made a slow negative. “You don’t know. The rackets boys’ll flip their lids at this. If Vetter moves in here there’s going to be some mighty big trouble.”

My face started working under the bandages. “Renzo’s top dog, isn’t he?”

Bucky’s tongue made a swipe at his lips. “One of ‘em. There’s a few more. They’re not going to like Renzo pulling in trouble like Vetter.” For the first time Bucky seemed to really look at us hard. “Vetter is poison. He’ll cut into everything and they’ll pay off. Sure as shooting, if he sticks around they’ll be piling the cabbage in his lap.”

“Then everybody’ll be after Vetter,” I said.

Bucky’s face furrowed in a frown. “Uh-uh. I wasn’t thinking that.” He polished off his drink and set the empty on the bar. “If Vetter’s here after Renzo they’ll do better nailing Renzo’s hide to the wall. Maybe they can stop it before it starts.”

It was trouble, all right. The kind I wasn’t feeling too bad about.

Bucky stared into his empty glass and said, “They’ll bury Renzo or he’ll come out of it bigger than ever.”

The bartender came down and filled his glass again. I shook my head when he wanted to know what we’d have. “Good story,” Bucky said, “if it happens.” Then he threw the drink down and Bucky was all finished. His eyes got frosty and he sat there grinning at himself in the mirror with his mind saying things to itself. I knew him too well to say anything else so I nudged Helen and we walked out.