When I turned around they were all standing there politely, hats in their hands. Young guys with old eyes. Sharp. Junior executive types. Maybe you could pick them out of a crowd but most likely you couldn't. No gun bulges under the suit jackets, no high-top shoes with arch supports. Not too fat, not too lean. Faces you wouldn't want to lie past. Junior executives all right, but in J. Edgar Hoover's organization.
The tall guy in the blue pin stripe said, "Our car is out front Mr. Hammer." I fell in beside him with the others bringing up on the flank and went out to get driven home. We took the Lincoln Tunnel across into New York, cut east on Forty-first, then took Ninth Avenue downtown to the modern gray building they used for operational headquarters.
They were real nice, those boys. They took my hat and coat, shoved up a chair for me to sit in, asked if I felt well enough to talk and when I told them sure, suggested that maybe I'd like a lawyer present.
I grinned at that one. "Nope, just ask questions and I'll do what I can to answer them. But thanks anyway."
The tall one nodded and looked over my head at someone else. "Bring in the file," he said. In back of me a door opened and closed. He leaned forward on the desk, his fingers laced together. "Now, Mr. Hammer, we'll get down to cases. You're completely aware of the situation?"
"I'm aware that no situation exists," I said bluntly. "Really?"
I said, "Look, friend. You may be the F.B.I and I may be up to my ears in something you're interested in, but let's get something straight. I don't get bluffed. Not even by the feds. I came here of my own free will. I'm fairly well acquainted with the law. The reason I didn't squawk about coming down here was because I wanted to get straightened out all the way around and quick because I have things to do when I leave and I don't want any cops tagging me around. That much understood?"
He didn't answer me right away. The door opened and closed again and a hand passed a folder over my shoulder. He took it, flipped it open and glanced through it. But he wasn't reading it. He knew the damn thing by heart. "It says here you're pretty tough, Mr. Hammer."
"Some people seem to think so."
"Several close brushes with the law, I notice." "Notice the result."
"I have. I imagine your license can be waivered if we want to press the issue."
I dragged out my deck of Luckies and flipped one loose. "I said I'd cooperate. You can quit trying to bluff me."
His eyes came over the edge of the folder. "We're not bluffing. The police in upstate New Fork want you. Would you sooner talk to them?"
It was getting a little tiresome. "If you want. They can't do anything more than talk either."
"You ran a roadblock."
"Wrong, chum, I stopped for it."
"But you did lie to the officer who questioned you?
"Certainly. Hell, I wasn't under oath. If he had any sense he would have looked at the dame and questioned her." I let the smoke drift out of my mouth toward the ceiling.
"The dead woman in your car..."
"You're getting lame," I said. "You know damn well I didn't kill her."
His smile was a lazy thing. "How do we know?"
"Because I didn't. I don't know how she died, but if she was shot you've already checked my apartment and found my gun there. You've already taken a paraffin test on me and it came out negative. If she was choked the marks on her neck didn't match the spread of my hands. If she was stabbed... "
"Her skull was crushed by a blunt instrument," he put in quietly. And I said just as quietly, "It matched the indentation in my own skull then and you know it."
If I thought he was going to get sore I was wrong. He twisted his smile in a little deeper and leaned back in the chair with his head cradled in his hands. Behind me someone coughed to cover up a laugh.
"Okay, Mr. Hammer, you seem to know everything. Sometimes
we can break even the tough ones down without much trouble.
We did all the things you mentioned before you regained consciousness. Were you guessing?"
I shook my head. "Hell, no. I don't underestimate cops. I've made a pretty good living in the racket myself. Now if there's anything you'd really like to know I'd be glad to give it to you."
His mouth pursed in thought a minute. "Captain Chambers gave us a complete report on things. The details checked .. . and your part in it seems to fit your nature. Please understand something, Mr. Hammer. We're not after you. If your part was innocent enough that's as far as we need to go. It's just that we can't afford to pass up any angles."
"Good. Then I'm clear?" "As far as we're concerned."
"I suppose they have a warrant out for me upstate." "We'll take care of it."
"Thanks."
"There's just one thing..." "Yeah?"
"From your record you seem to be a pretty astute sort of person.
What's your opinion on this thing?"
"Since when do you guys deal in guesswork?" "When that's all we have to go on."
I dropped the cigarette into the ashtray on the desk and looked at him. "The dame knew something she shouldn't have. Whoever pulled it were smart cookies. I think the sedan that waited for us was one that passed us up right after I took her aboard. It was a bad spot to try anything so they went ahead and picked the right one. She wouldn't talk so they bumped her. I imagine it was supposed to look like an accident."
"That's right, it was."
"Now do you mind if I ask one?"
"No. Go right ahead."
"Who was she?"
"Berga Torn." My eyes told him to finish it and he shrugged his shoulder. "She was a taxi dancer, nightclub entertainer, friend of boys on the loose and anything else you can mention where sex is concerned."
A frown pulled at my forehead. "I don't get it."
"You're not supposed to, Mr. Hammer." A freeze clouded up his eyes. It told me that was as much as he was about to say and I was all through. I could go now and thanks. Thanks a lot.
I got up and pulled my hat on. One of the boys held the door open for me. I turned around and grinned at him. "I will, feller," I said.
"What?"
"Get it." My grin got bigger. "Then somebody else is going to get it."
I pulled the door closed and got out in the hall. I stood there a minute leaning up against the wall until the pounding in my forehead stopped and the lights left my eyes. There was a dry sour taste in my mouth that made me want to spit, a nasty hate buzzing around my head that pulled my lips tight across my teeth and brought the voices back in my ears and then I felt better because I knew that I'd never forget them and that some day I'd hear them again, only this time they'd choke out the last sound they'd ever make.
I took the elevator downstairs, called a cab and gave him Pat's office address. The cop on the desk told me to go ahead up and when I walked in Pat was sitting there waiting for me, trying on a friendly smile for size.
He said, "How did it go, Mike?"
"It was a rotten pitch." I hooked a chair over with my foot and sat down. "I don't know what the act was for, but they sure wasted time."
"They never waste time."
"Then why the ride?"
"Checking. I gave them the facts they hadn't already picked up."
"They didn't seem to do anything about it."
"I didn't expect them to." He dropped the chair forward on all four legs. "I suppose you asked them some things too."
"Yeah, I know the kid's name. Berga Torn."
"That's all?"
"Part of her history. What's the rest?"
Pat dropped his eyes and stared at his hands. When he was ready to speak he looked up at me, his face a study in caution. "Mike... I'm going to give you some information. The reason I'm doing it is because you're likely to fish around and find it yourself if I don't and interference is one thing we can't have."