Her fingers made nervous little motions in her lap. "I know," she said softly. "It was about Carl."
"What about him?
She looked at me appealingly. "Mike... I did what you told me to. I... found out all about you."
"So?"
"I... it's no use trying to be clever or anything. Carl is mixed up in something. I've always known that." She dropped her eyes to her hands, twining her fingers together. "A lot of people are... and it didn't seem to matter much, really. He has all sorts of important friends in government and business. They seem to know what he does so I never complained."
"You just took whatever he gave you without asking," I stated. "That's right. Without asking."
"Sort of what you don't know won't hurt you."
Michael stared blankly at her lap for a few seconds. "Yes." "Now you're worried."
"Yes."
"Why?"
The worry seemed to film her eyes over. "Because... before it was only legal things that gave him trouble. Carl... had lawyers for that. Good ones. They always took care of things." She laid her hand over mine. It shook a little. "You're different."
"Say it."
"I... can't."
"All right. You're a killer, Mike. You're dirty, nasty and you don't care how you do it as long as you do it. You've killed and you'll keep killing until you get killed yourself.
I said, "Just tell me one thing, kid. Are you afraid for me or Carl?"
"It isn't for you. Nothing will ever touch you." She said it with a touch of bitterness that was soft and sad at the same time.
I looked at her wonderingly. "You're not making sense now."
"Mike... look at me closely and you'll see. I... love Carl. He's always taken care of me. I love him, don't you see? If he's in trouble... there are other ways, but not you, Mike, not you. I... wouldn't want that."
I took my hand away gently, lit a cigarette and watched the smoke sift out into the room. Michael smiled crookedly as she watched me. "It happened fast, Mike," she said. "It sounds very bad and very inadequate. I'm a very lovely phony, you're thinking and I can't blame you a bit. No matter what I ever say, you'll never believe me. I could try to prove it but no matter how hard I tried or what I did, it would only make it look worse so I won't try any more at all. I'd just like to say this, Mike. I'm sorry it had to be this way. You... hit me awfully hard. It never happened to me before. Shall we go up now?"
I got up, let her take my arm and walked to the elevator. She hit the top button and stood there facing the door without speaking, but when I squeezed her arm her hand closed tighter around mine
and she tossed her hair back to start the smile she'd have when we got out.
Carl's two boys were by the door in the foyer. They wore monkey suits and on them the term was absolutely descriptive. They started their smiling when they saw Michael and stopped when they saw me. You could see them exchange looks trying to figure the next move and they weren't up to it. We were through the door and a girl was taking my hat while they stood there watching us foolishly.
The place was packed. It was loud with laughs and conversation to the point where the music from the grand piano in the corner barely penetrated. Quiet little men with trays passed through the huddled groups handing out drinks and as heads turned to take them I could spot faces you see in the paper often. Some you saw in the movies too, and there were a few you heard making political speeches over the air.
Important people. So damn important you wondered about the company they kept because in each group were one or two not so important unless you looked at police records or knew what they did for a living.
There were hellos from a dozen different directions. Michael smiled, waved back and started to steer me toward the closest group. Leo Harmody was there in all of his self-assuming importance, ready to introduce her to the others. I took my arm away and said, "You go to it, baby. I'll find the bar and get a drink."
She nodded, a trace of a frown shadowing the corner of her mouth.
So I went to the bar.
Where Affia was holding Velda's hand and Billy Mist was giving her a snow job while Carl Evello watched cheerfully.
Velda was good. She showed pleasant curiosity and smiled. Carl wasn't so good. He got a little white.
Billy Mist was even worse. He got color in his greasy face but most of it was deep red and his lips tightened so much his teeth showed. I said, "If you're wondering, Carl, your little sister invited me along."
"Oh?"
"Charming girl," I said. "You'd never know she was your sister."
Then I looked at Billy. I was hating his guts inside and out so hard I could hardly stand still. I looked him over real slow like I was trying to find a spot in the garbage pail for the latest load and said, "Hello, stupid."
They can't take it. You can tear their heart out with one word and they can't take it. Billy's face was something ready to blow up like a landmine and he wasn't even thinking of the consequences. He was all alone in the room with me for that brief second and his hand tightened, got ready to grab something under his coat and right at the top of everything he felt I just stood there lazy-like and said, "Go ahead."
And he thought and thought about the dead men and watched his bubble bust wide open because his mind was telling him he'd never make it while he faced me and he got like Carl. White.
But I wasn't watching Billy Mist any more. I was watching Al Affia, plodding Al Affia who had the waterfront sewed up. Ignorant, thickheaded, slow Al who kept stroking Velda's hand all the while and who didn't turn color or go tight or do anything at all except say, "What's the matter with you guys?"
Velda repeated it. "What is the matter? After all..." "Forget it, honey," Billy told her. "Just kidding around. You know how it is."
"Sure you know how it is," Al said.
I looked at the Brooklyn boy and watched him carve his face into a grin, muscle by muscle. Somebody should have mentioned Al's eyes to the boys. They weren't a bit stupid. They were small and close together, but they were bright with a lot of things nobody ever knew about. Someday they'd know.
"Nobody introduced me to the lady," I said.
Carl put his drink down on the bar, afraid to let go of it.
"Hammer, I believe it is." He looked at me questioningly and I grinned. "Yes, Mike Hammer. This is Miss Lewis. Candy Lewis." "Hello, Candy," I said.
"Hello, Mike."
"Neat. Very neat. Model?"
"I do fashions for newspaper advertising."
Good mind, that secretary of mine. Nice and easy to explain to Billy how come she was shooting it with a couple of newshawks. I wondered how she had smoothed out his feelings.
She knew what I was thinking and went me one better. "What do you do, Mr. Hammer?"
They were watching me now. I said, "I hunt." "Big game?"
"People," I said, and grinned at Billy Mist.
His nostrils seemed to flare out a little. "Interesting."
"You'll never know, chum. It gets to be real sport after a while."
His mouth pressed together, a nasty smirk starting. "Like tonight. I got me two more. You ever hunt?"
His face wasn't red any more. It was calm and deadly. "Yeah, I hunt."
"We ought to try it together sometime. I'll show you a few tricks."
A low rumble came from Al's chest. "I'd like to see that," he laughed. "I sure would."
"Some people haven't got the guts for it," I told him. "It looks easy when you're always on the right side of a gun." I took them all in with one sweep of my eyes. "When you're on the wrong end it gives you the squirms. You know what I mean?"
Carl was on the verge of saying something. I would like to have heard it, but Leo Harmody came up, bowed himself into our little clique with a deep laugh and spoke to Velda. "Could I borrow you long enough to meet a friend of mine, my dear?"