"One of his partners killed him. Ran right over him with the car.
"Did they... recover the money?"
"Nope, I'm beginning to think they never will, either."
"But..."
I dragged on the butt and flipped the ashes off in the tray. "I'm willing to bet that the guy chucked the cash and your pearls on the top of some rubbish pile. He didn't come in here for any three hundred bucks. That kind of job isn't worth the trouble."
She bit her lips and frowned at me. "You know something, Mike, I was thinking the same thing."
I looked at her curiously. "Go on."
"I think this... this robber knew what he was doing, but got his floors mixed. Do you know Marvin Holmes?"
"The playboy who keeps a stable of blondes?"
"That's right. He has the apartment directly above me. The rooms are laid out exactly the same and even the wall safe is in the identical spot as mine. He always keeps a small fortune on hand and he wasn't home last night either. I met him just as I was going out and he mentioned something about a night club."
"You've been up there?"
"Several times. He's always throwing parties. I don't rate because I'm not a blonde," she added as an afterthought.
It made sense, all right. Just to see how much sense it did make I picked Marvin Holmes' number out of the phone book and dialed it. A butler with a German accent answered, told me yes, Mr. Holmes was at home and put him on. I lied and said I was from the insurance company and wanted to know if he kept a bundle at his fingertips. The sap sounded half looped and was only too happy to tell me there was better than ten grand in his safe and tacked on that he thought the guy who opened the safe on the floor below him had made a mistake. I thanked him and hung up.
Marsha said, "Did he..."
"The guy has the same idea as you, chick. He thinks there was a one-floor error and for my money you're both right."
Her shoulders made a faint gesture of resignation. "Well, I guess there's little that can be done then. I had hoped to recover the pearls for sentimental reasons. I wore them in my first picture."
If I grinned I couldn't have been nice to look at. My lips felt tight over my teeth and I shook my head. "It's a dirty mess, Marsha. Two guys are dead already and there'll be another on the way soon. The guy who robbed your place left a baby behind, then went right out to get chopped down. Hell, it isn't what he took, it's why he took it. He was on the level for a long time then just like that he went bad and no guy like him is going to pull something that'll let his own kid get tossed to the dogs.
"Damn it, I was there and saw it! I watched him cry and kiss his kid good-by and go out and cash in his chips. Now I have the kid and I know what he must have felt like. Goddamn it anyway, there's a reason why these things happen and that's what I want. Maybe it's only a little reason and maybe it's a big one, but by God, I'm going to get it."
Her eyes were square and steady on mine, a deep liquid brown that got deeper as she stared at me. "You're a strange kind of guy," she said. I picked up my hat and stood up. She came forward to meet me, holding her hand out. "Mike... about the child... if I can help out with it, well I'm pretty well set up financially..."
I squeezed her hand. "You know, you're a strange kind of guy yourself "
"Thanks, Mike."
"But I can take care of the kid okay." She gave me a lopsided smile that made her look good even with the shiner. "By the way... would you happen to have an extra picture around... like that one?" I nodded toward the piano.
For a long space of time she held on to my hand and ran her eyes over my face. "What for, won't I do in person?"
I let my hat drop and it stayed on the floor. My hands ran up her arms until my fingers were digging into her shoulders and I drew her in close. She was all' woman, every bit of her. Her body was taut, her breasts high and firm with all the vitality of youth, and I could feel the warm outlines of her legs as I pressed her against me. She raised herself on her toes deliberately, tantalizing, a subtle motion that I knew was an invitation not lightly given.
I wanted to kiss her, but I knew that when I did I'd want to make it so good and so hard it would hurt long enough to be remembered and now wasn't the time. Later, when her mouth was smooth and soft again.
"You'll be back, Mike?" she whispered.
She knew the answer without being told. I pushed her away and picked up my hat.
There were things in this city that could be awfully nasty.
There were things in this city that could be awfully nice too.
Chapter Three
I stopped by the office that afternoon. The only one in the building to say hello was the elevator operator and he had to look twice to recognize me. It was a hell of a feeling. You live in the city your whole life, take off for six months and you are unknown when you come back. I opened the door and felt a little better when I saw the same old furniture in the same old place. The only thing that was missing was Velda. Her desk was a lonely corner in the anteroom, dusted and ready for a new occupant.
I said something dirty. I was always saying something dirty these days.
She had left a folder of correspondence she thought I might want to see on my desk. It wasn't anything important. Just a record of bills paid, my bank statements and a few letters. I closed the folder and stowed it away in a drawer. There was a fifth of good whiskey still there with the wrapper on. I stripped off the paper, uncorked the bottle and looked at it. I worked the top off and smelled it. Then I put it back and shut the drawer. I felt stinking and didn't like the feeling.
Outside on Velda's desk the phone started ringing. I went out in a hurry hoping it might be her, but a rough voice said, "You Mike Hammer?"
"Yeah, who's this?"
"Johnny Vileck. You know, the super down in Decker's building. I had a hell of a time tryin' to get you. Lucky I remembered your name."
"What's up?" I asked.
"I was thinking over what we was speaking about this morning. Remember you asked me about Decker needin' dough?"
"Uh-huh."
"When I went out to get the paper I got talking to the blind newsie on the corner. The old guy was pretty busted up about it. Him and Decker was pretty good friends. Anyway, one night after the old lady died, he was up there playing chess when this guy come around. He wanted to know when Decker was going to get the cash he owed. Decker paid him something and the guy left and after it he mentioned that he had to borrow a big chunk to cover the wife's operation. Mentioned three grand."
I let it jell in my head for a minute, twisting it around until it made sense. "Where could he get that kind of dough?"
Vileck grunted and made a shrug I couldn't see. "Beats me. He never borrowed nuthing and it's damn sure he didn't go to no bank."
"Anybody in the neighborhood got it?"
"Not in this neighborhood, pal. Once somebody'll hit a number or a horse, but he ain't lending it out, you can bet. There's plenty of tough guys around here who show up with a roll sometimes, but it's flash money and they're either gone or in jail the next day. Nope, he didn't get it around here."
"Thanks for the dope, John. If you ever need a favor, let me know."
"Sure, pal, glad to let you know about it."
"Look... did you mention this to the cops?"
"Naw. I found out after they left. Besides, they don't hear from me unless they ask. Cops is okay long as they stay outa my joint."
I told him so-long and put the receiver back. There was the reason for murder and it was a good one. Three grands' worth. Now it was coming out right. Decker went into somebody for three grand and he had to bail himself out by stealing it. So he made a mistake when he raids the wrong apartment and his pals didn't believe it. They thought he was holding out. So they bump him figuring to lift a jackpot and all they got was a measly three hundred bucks and a string of pearls.
Damn it, the whole thing made me boil over! Because a guy couldn't wait to get his dough back a kid is made an orphan. My city, yeah. How many places around town was the same thing going on?