Shortly after Oscar was committed I left Nebraska and settled in New York. I did rather well in business and became active in politics. Oscar was more or less forgotten. Then I learned that he had escaped from the institution. I never heard from him again until he called me last week."
"That's all?"
"What else can there be, Mike? Oscar probably read about me in the papers and trailed me here. He knew what it would mean if I was known to have a brother who wasn't quite . . . well, normal. He made a demand for money and told me he'd have it one way or another."
Pat reached for the shaker and filled the glasses again. I held mine out and our eyes met. He answered my question before I could ask it. "Lee was afraid to mention Oscar, even when he was identified as the killer of Moffit. You can understand why, can't you?"
"Now I can," I said.
"Even the fact that Lee was identified, although wrongly, would have made good copy. However, the cop on the beat brought the witnesses in before they could speak to the papers and the whole thing was such an obvious mistake that nobody dared take the chance of making it public."
"Where are the witnesses now?"
"We have them under surveillance. They've been instructed to keep quiet about it. We checked into their backgrounds and found that all of them were upright citizens, plain, ordinary people who were as befuddled as we were about the whole thing. Fortunately, we were able to secure their promise of silence by proving to them where Lee was that night. They don't understand it, but they were willing to go along with us in the cause of justice."
I grunted and pulled on the cigarette. "I don't like it." Both of them looked at me quickly. "Hell, Pat, you ought to smell the angle as well as I do."
"You tell me, Mike."
"Oscar served his warning," I said. "He'll make another stab at it. You can trap him easily enough and you know it."
"That's right. It leaves one thing wide open, too."
"Sure it does. You'll have another Lee Deamer in print and pictures, this one up for a murder rap which he will skip because he's nuts." Lee winced at the word but kept still.
"That's why I wanted you here," Pat told me.
"Fine. What good am I?"
The ice rattled against the side of his glass. Pat tried to keep his voice calm. "You aren't official, Mike. My mind works with the book. I know what I should do and I can't think of anything else."
"You mean you want me to tell you that Oscar should be run down and quietly spirited away?"
"That's right."
"And I'm the boy who could do it?"
"Right again." He took a long swallow from the glass and set it on the table.
"What happens if it doesn't work out? To you, I mean."
"I'll be looking for a job for not playing it properly."
"Gentlemen, gentlemen." Lee Deamer ran his hand through his hair nervously. "I--I can't let you do it. I can't let you jeopardize your positions. It isn't fair. The best thing is to let it come to light and let the public decide."
"Don't be jerky!" I spat out. Lee looked at me, but I wasn't seeing him. I was seeing Marty and Pat, hearing them say the same thing . . . and I was hearing that judge again.
There were two hot spaces where my eyes should have been. "I'll take care of it," I said. "I'll need all the help I can get." I looked at Pat. He nodded. "Just one thing, Pat. I'm not doing this because I'm a patriot, see? I'm doing it because I'm curious and because of it I'll be on my toes. I'm curious as hell about something else and not about right and wrong and what the public thinks."
My teeth were showing through my words and Pat had that look again. "Why, Mike?"
"Three green cards with the edges put off kid. I'm curious as hell about three green cards. There's more to them than you think."
I said good night and left them sitting there. I could hear the judge laughing at me. It wasn't a nice laugh. It had a nasty sound. Thirteen steps and thirteen loops that made the knot in the rope. Were there thirteen thousand volts in the chair too? Maybe I'd find out the hard way.
Chapter Four
I slept for two hours before Velda called me. I told her I wouldn't be in for a good long while, and if anything important came up she could call, but unless it was a matter of life or death, either hers or mine, to leave me be.
Nothing came up and I slept once around the clock. It was five minutes to six when my eyes opened by themselves and didn't feel hot any more. While I showered and shaved I stuck a frozen steak under the broiler and ate in my shorts, still damp.
It was a good steak; I was hungry. I wanted to finish it but I never got the time. The phone rang and kept on ringing until I kicked the door shut so I wouldn't hear it. That didn't stop the phone. It went on like that for a full five minutes, demanding that I answer it. I threw down my knife with a curse and walked inside.
"What is it?" I yelled.
"It took you long enough to wake up, damn it!"
"Oh, Pat. I wasn't asleep. What's up this time?"
"It happened like we figured. Oscar made the contact. He called Lee and wants to see him tonight. Lee made an appointment to be at his apartment at eight."
"Yeah?"
"Lee called me immediately. Look, Mike, we'll have to go this alone, just the three of us. I don't want to trust anybody else."
The damp on my body seemed to turn to ice. I was cold all over, cold enough to shake just a little. "Where'll I meet you, Pat?"
"Better make it at my place. Oscar lives over on the East Side." He rattled off the address and I jotted it down. "I told Lee to go ahead and keep his appointment. We'll be right behind him Lee is taking the subway up and we'll pick him up at the kiosk. Got that?"
"I got it. Be over in a little while."
We both stood waiting for the other to hang up. Finally, "Mike . . ."
"What?"
"You sure about this?"
"I'm sure." I set the receiver back in its cradle and stared at it. I was sure, all right, sure to come up with the dirty end of the stick. The dam would open and let the clean water through and they could pick me out of the sewer.
I pulled on my clothes halfheartedly. I thought of the steak in the kitchen and decided I didn't want any more of it. For a while I stood in front of the mirror looking at myself, trying to decide whether or not I should wear the artillery. Habit won and I buckled on the sling after checking the load in the clip. When I buttoned up the coat I took the box from the closet shelf that held the two spare barrels and the extra shells, scooped up a handful of loose .45s and dropped them in my pocket. If I was going to do it I might as well do it right.
Velda had just gotten in when I called her. I said, "Did you eat yet, kitten?"
"I grabbed a light bite downtown. Why, are you taking me out?"
"Yeah, but not to supper. It's business. I'll be right over. Tell you about it then."
She said all right, kissed me over the phone and hung up. I stuck my hat on, picked up another deck of Luckies and went downstairs where I whistled for a cab.
I don't know how I looked when she opened the door. She started to smile then dropped it like a hot rivet to catch her lower lip between her teeth. Velda's so tall I didn't have to bend down far to kiss her on the cheek. It was nice standing there real close to her. She was perfume and beauty and all the good things of life.