The Mike Hammer Collection Part 3

"Nuts. It's the first time I've been to bed in a long time. I like it here."

"Mike-" His voice had changed. There was something there now that wasn't that of the professional medic at a bedside. It was worried and urgent and I let my eyes slit open and looked at him.

"I don't like what's happening to Pat."

"Tough."

"A good word, but don't apply it to him. You're the tough one. You're not like him at all."

"He's tough."

"In a sense. He's a pro. He's been trained and can perform certain skills most men can't. He's a policeman and most men aren't that. Pat is a normal sensitive human. At least he was. I met him after you went to pot. I heard a lot about you, mister. I watched Pat change character day by day and what caused the change was you and what you did to Velda."

The name again. In one second I lived every day the name was alive and with me. Big, Valkyrian and with hair as black as night.

"Why should he care?"

"He says she was his friend."

Very slowly I squeezed my eyes open. "You know what she was to me?"

"I think so."

"Okay."

"But it could be he was in love with her too," he said.

I couldn't laugh like I wanted to. "She was in love with me, Doc."

"Nevertheless, he he was in love with was in love with her her. Maybe you never realized it, but that's the impression I got. He's still a bachelor, you know."

"Ah! He's in love with his job. I know him."

"Do you?"

I thought back to that night and couldn't help the grin that tried to climb up my face. "Maybe not, Doc, maybe not. But it's an interesting thought. It explains a lot of things."

"He's after you now. To him, you killed her. His whole personality, his entire character has changed. You're the focal point. Until now he's never had a way to get to you to make you pay for what happened. Now he has you in a nice tight bind and, believe me, you're going to be racked back first cla.s.s."

"That's G.I. talk, Doc."

"I was in the same war, buddy."

I looked at him again. His face was drawn, his eyes searching and serious. "What am I supposed to do?"

"He never told me and I never bothered to push the issue, but since I'm his friend rather than yours, I'm more interested in him personally than you."

"Lousy bedside manner, Doc."

"Maybe so, but he's my friend."

"He used to be mine."

"No more."

"So?"

"What happened?"

"What would you believe coming from an acute alcoholic and a D and D?"

For the first time he laughed and it was for real. "I hear you used to weigh in at two-o-five?"

"Thereabouts."

"You're down to one sixty-eight, dehydrated, undernourished. A b.u.m, you know?"

"You don't have to remind me."

"That isn't the point. You missed it."

"No I didn't."

"Oh?"

"Medics don't talk seriously to D and D's. I know what I was. Now there there is a choice of words if you can figure it out." is a choice of words if you can figure it out."

He laughed again. "Was. I caught it."

"Then talk."

"Okay. You're a loused-up character. There's nothing to you anymore. Physically, I mean. Something happened and you tried to drink yourself down the drain."

"I'm a weak person."

"Guilt complex. Something you couldn't handle. It happens to the hardest nuts I've seen. They can take care of anything until the irrevocable happens and then they blow. Completely."

"Like me?"

"Like you."

"Keep talking."

"You were a lush."

"So are a lot of people. I even know some doctors who-"

"You came out of it pretty fast."

"At ease, Doc."

"I'm not prying," he reminded me.

"Then talk right."

"Sure," he said. "Tell me about Velda."

CHAPTER 3.

"It was a long time ago," I said.

And when I had said it I wished I hadn't because it was something I never wanted to speak about. It was over. You can't beat time. Let the dead stay dead. If they can. But was she dead? Maybe if I told it just once I could be sure.

"Tell me," Larry asked.

"Pat ever say anything?"

"Nothing."

So I told him.

"It was a routine job," I said.

"Yes?"

"A Mr. Rudolph Civac contacted me. He was from Chicago, had plenty of rocks and married a widow named Marta Singleton who inherited some kind of machine-manufacturing fortune. Real social in Chicago. Anyway, they came to New York, where she wanted to be social too and introduce her new husband around."

"Typical," Larry said.

"Rich b.i.t.c.hes."

"Don't hold it against them," he told me.

"Not me, kid," I said.

"Then go on."

I said, "She was going to sport all the gems her dead husband gave her, which were considerable and a prime target for anybody in the field, and her husband wanted protection."

Larry made a motion with his hand. "A natural thought."

"Sure. So he brought me in. Big party. He wanted to cover the gems."

"Any special reason?"

"Don't be a jerk. They were worth a half a million. Most of my business is made of stuff like that."

"Trivialities."

"Sure, Doc, like unnecessary appendectomies."

"Touche."

"Think nothing of it."

He stopped then. He waited seconds and seconds and watched and waited, then: "A peculiar att.i.tude."

"You're the psychologist, Doc, not me."

"Why?"

"You're thinking that frivolity is peculiar for a D and D."

"So go on with the story."

"Doc," I said, "later I'm going to paste you right in the mouth. You know this?"

"Sure."

"That's my my word." word."

"So sure."

"Okay, Doc, ask for it. Anyway, it was a routine job. The target was a dame. At that time a lot of parties were being tapped by a fat squad who saw loot going to waste around the neck of a big broad who never needed it-but this was a cla.s.sic. At least in our business."

"How?"

"Never mind. At least she called us in. I figured it would be better if we changed our routine. That night I was on a homicide case. Strictly insurance, but the company was paying off and there would be another grand in the kitty. I figured it would be a better move to let Velda cover the affair since she'd be able to stay with the client at all times, even into the ladies' room."

Larry interrupted with a wave of his hand. "Mind a rough question?"

"No."

"Was this angle important or were you thinking, rather, of the profit end-like splitting your team up between two cases."

I knew I had started to shake and pressed my hands against my sides hard. After a few seconds the shakes went away and I could answer him without wanting to tear his head off. "It was an important angle," I said. "I had two heists pulled under my nose when they happened in a powder room."

"And-the woman. How did she feel about it?"

"Velda was a pro. She carried a gun and had her own P.I. ticket."

"And she could handle any situation?"