In fact, the Bonham police had threatened to arrest me. They were very upset about the rash of fatalities that had broken out in their town on the day of my arrival. But Hawk had pulled some strings, and suddenly there had been no more questioning, no more pressure. There had been no stories in the newspapers, either.
I left the hospital by the back stairs. I was walking briskly across the parking lot when a long car turned off the highway and came to a halt alongside me. A door swung open and Hawk said, "Nick, I'm glad you're up and about."
Hoping I didn't look like a school-kid caught playing hooky, I obeyed his signal to climb into the limousine.
"You were planning to call me, I suppose. Certainly you wouldn't leave the hospital and take up the chase again without letting me know."
"Certainly not," I said.
"You weren't afraid that I'd veto the idea and say you were in no condition to pursue a wolfpack of killers?"
"No, sir," I replied, respect in my voice. "You know I'd take myself off a job if I didn't feel I was able to handle it."
"When you get too old for this line of work, Nick, I'm going to recommend you for the diplomatic service," Hawk sighed. "I was in Denver anyway and since I suspected you'd pull something like this, I came on over. Would you like someone assigned to you as a reinforcement?"
"No sir. I'd rather follow up on it alone."
Hawk slid the soundproof glass panel between us and the two men in the front seat.
"It's no longer simply a question of avenging Kirby, is it, Nick?"
I shook my head. "There's the girl, too. But there's more to it than personal vengeance. The man who leads the killers is a sadist who'll go on slaughtering people if he isn't stopped."
Hawk flipped down a panel in front of him and tugged out a tape recorder. He pressed a button. In an official-sounding voice, he said, "Give me your report, N3."
I related the events that had occurred since my arrival in Bonham and then Hawk cut off the recorder. "That takes care of the official part of it. The rest that is said is strictly between the two of us. I'm going to permit you to continue with this on your terms. Get the bastards, Nick."
"You realize our security was breached at the base on the Carolina coast, don't you?"
"I'll take care of that," Hawk said in a hard voice.
"I think the base was infiltrated by an agent of the Mafia. They were after the information we'd gathered on the girl, and they were seeking Frank Abruze's killers. They can't have a pack of mavericks knocking off a man to whom they'd promised security and retirement. It's a direct challenge and an affront."
"Agreed," Hawk said. "I've drawn the same conclusions."
"There are some missing pieces to the puzzle. Like why an assassin apparently working for the Mafia tried to kill me, but Marco Valante lent me a hand. Quiz your Mafia experts about that. Maybe they can come up with a theory."
"Consider it done."
"The men who killed Abruze and Kirby are looking for their blood money now. I'm convinced Sheila told them the truth and that she didn't know what happened to the cash. They killed her for no good reason except that killing is Moose's bag. There are three of them, by the way, not four."
"What lead do you have to follow from here?" Hawk asked.
"This address book Moose dropped while we were wrestling the other night. There are seven names in it I'm going to pay a visit to each of these people. Maybe One of them will lead me to Moose."
"If Moose and his confederates or the Mafia don't get you first." Hawk flipped through the address book. "These are women's names, all of them."
"And each in a different city. Moose has lady friends all over the map."
"I'll have a check made of the FBI's files. Maybe they'll tell us something about Moose and his friends. From your description, he's the size of the Jolly Green Giant. That's a start."
I reached for the address book, but Hawk was in no hurry to return it "Nick, this is more than a list of names. If s a sexual catalog. Did you read these comments Moose wrote about the seven girls?"
"Yes," I said. "Pretty racy stuff."
"He describes what each of them does best in the sexual line. Trudy in Los Angeles sounds sensational."
"Personally, I liked the references he gave Cora in Vegas. Tell you what, I'll let you know how accurate Moose's notes are."
"You're a strapping physical specimen, my boy, but I don't see how you could personally explore the subject in depth without wearing yourself down to skin and bones," Hawk said in an amused voice. "The delights of Barbara, for example, are such that even Moose couldn't describe them. He simply underlined her name and put exclamation points behind it."
"Maybe he did that because she's the only virgin in the bunch."
"I rather doubt that Moose knows any virgins," Hawk said. "I suppose it isn't necessary for me to point out that all of these girls are probably involved in underworld activity and will most likely be involved with hoods who won't hesitate to kill you if they get suspicious?"
"It'll be a fun trip, all right."
Hawk closed the book and passed it to me. "What else, Nick? Are you holding back anything?"
"No," I lied. "That's it. I'll be in touch."
He spoke my name again as I was getting out of the car. "Sheila made quite an impact on you, didn't she? What was she like?"
"I couldn't say. I didn't get to know her that well."
What I hadn't mentioned was that one of the names in Moose's book could belong to the girl we'd known as Sheila Brant. AXE had been unable to pin a past on her, but she must have had one before she met Frank Abruze.
I was pursuing Sheila's ghost as well as her killers.
Five
If there was one big drawback to my job, other than the hours and the high mortality rate, it was that I was required to spend more time in other people's countries than I spent in my own.
I had not seen El Pueblo Nuestra Senora la Reinda de Los Angeles de Porciuncula, known to most of us as just plain L.A., in two years. The city had changed, not entirely for the better. The climate, so like that of the Mediterranean countries, was still beautiful and so were the girls. But the traffic and the smog had grown thicker.
As I worked my way into a drugstore telephone booth, I was wondering how Trudy, who had rated the first page in Moose's sexual Who's Who, would compare to some of the knockouts sitting at the soda fountain waiting to be discovered. The great American dream of stardom never dies.
A female voice answered the telephone and sounded disappointed when I asked for Trudy. "I'll call her." While I waited, I looked at the legs of the girls at the soda fountain and kicked open the door of the booth so I could share the air conditioning. The days were getting hotter and I was wearing a lot of bandage about my chest.
Trudy's voice sounded sultry, but maybe my judgment was influenced by Moose's capsule description of her talents in the bedroom. When I told her a friend had suggested I get in touch with her, she invited me to come around. It was as easy as falling off a bar stool. "I'm crazy about meeting new people," she said.
I soon discovered the reason. Meeting new people was Trudy's business. She worked in a bordello. She led me up a flight of stairs, clinging to my hand and talking a blue streak.
"You come highly recommended. I got your number from Moose," I said.
"Moose? Oh, sure." She tugged me into a room and slid down the zipper of my trousers while I was still looking around. "I have to check you over, honey, and give you a nice bath. The lady I work for says cleanliness is next to prosperity."
I evaded her deft grasp. "She must be quite a philosopher. I'd like to meet her sometime."
"No, you wouldn't. She's as cold as a loanshark's heart. Most madams are. Those movies where they have hearts of gold, that's a lot of Hollywood nonsense. What's the matter with you, honey? You got a thing about being touched?"