If he could have had his hand on my chest, or even have touched me anywhere he would have known what was happening. My guts would knot and chum and my head was filled with a wild flushing sensation of blood almost bursting through their walls. But he didn't touch me and he couldn't tell from my face so his eyes looked at me even a little more obliquely expecting even the slightest reaction and getting none. None at all.
"You're a cold-blooded bastard," he nearly whispered.
"You said that before."
He blinked owlishly behind his glasses and stood up, his coat over his arm. "You know where to reach me."
"I know."
"Do you need anything?"
"Not now. Thanks for the ticket."
"No trouble. Will you promise me something?"
"Sure."
"Just don't use that gun on The Dragon."
"I won't kill him, Art."
"No. Leave that for me. Don't spoil my pleasure or yours either."
He went out, closing the door softly behind him. I pulled the center desk drawer out, got the extra clip and the box of shells from the niche and closed the drawer. The package I had mailed to myself was on the table by the door where Nat always put my packages when he had to take them from the mailman. I ripped it open, took out the .45, checked the action and dropped it in the holster.
Now it was just like old times.
I turned off the light in my office and went outside. I was reaching for the door when the phone on Velda's desk went off with a sudden jangling that shook me for a second before I could pick it up.
Her voice was rich and vibrant when she said hello and I wanted her right there with me right then. She knew it too, and her laugh rippled across the miles. She said, "Are you going to be busy tonight, Mike?"
Time was something I had too little of, but I had too little of her too. "Well--why?"
"Because I'm coming into your big city."
"Isn't it kind of late?"
"No. I have to be there at 10 P.M. to see a friend of yours and since I see no sense of wasting the evening I thought that whatever you have to do you can do it with me. Or can you?"
"It takes two to dance, baby."
She laughed again. "I didn't mean it that way."
"Sure, come on in. If I said not to I'd be lying. Who's my friend you have a date with?"
"An old friend and new enemy. Captain Chambers."
"What is this?"
"I don't know. He called and asked if I could come in. It would simplify things since his going out of his jurisdiction requires a lot of work."
"For Pete's sake--"
"Mike--I don't mind, really. If it has to do with Leo's death, well, I'll do anything. You know that."
"Yeah, but--"
"Besides, it gives me an excuse to see you even sooner than I hoped. Okay?"
"Okay."
"See you in a little while, Mike. Any special place?"
"Moriarty's at Sixth and Fifty-second." I'll be at the bar."
"Real quick," she said and hung up.
I held the disconnect bar down with my finger. Time. Seven years' worth just wasted and now there was none left. I let the bar up and dialed Hy Gardner's private number at the paper, hoping I'd be lucky enough to catch him in. I was.
He said, "Mike, if you're not doing anything, come on up here. I have to get my column out and I'll be done before you're here. I have something to show you."
"Important?"
"Brother, one word from you and everybody flips. Shake it up."
"Fifteen minutes."
"Good."
I hung up and pushed the phone back. When I did I uncovered a heart scratched in the surface with something sharp. Inside it was a V and an M. Velda and Mike. I pulled the phone back to cover it, climbed into my coat and went outside. Just to be sure I still had the night to myself I walked down, out the back way through the drugstore then headed south on Broadway toward Hy's office.
Marilyn opened the door and hugged me hello, a pretty grin lighting her face up. She said, "Hy's inside waiting for you. He won't tell me what it's all about."
"You're his wife now, not his secretary anymore. You don't work for him."
"The heck I don't. But he still won't tell me."
"It's man talk, sugar."
"All right, I'll let you be. I'll get some coffee--and Mike--" I turned around.
"It's good to have you back."
When I winked she blew me a kiss and scurried out the door.
Hy was at his desk inside with his glasses up on his forehead, frowning at some sheets in his hand. They were covered with penciled notations apparently culled from another batch beside his elbow.
I pulled up a chair, sat down and let Hy finish what he was doing. Finally he glanced up, pulling his glasses down. "I got your message across."
"So?"
"So it was like I dropped a bomb in HQ. Over there they seem to know things we don't read in the paper here." He leaned forward and tapped the sheets in his hand. "This bit of The Dragon is the hottest item in the cold war, buddy. Are you sure you know what you're up to?"
"Uh-huh."
"Okay, I'll go along with you. The Reds are engaged in an operation under code name REN. It's a chase thing. Behind the Iron Curtain there has been a little hell to pay the last few years. Somebody was loose back there who could rock the whole Soviet system and that one had to be eliminated. That's where The Dragon came in. This one has been on that chase and was close to making his hit. Nobody knows what the score really is." He stopped then, pushed his glasses back up and said seriously, "or do they, Mike?"
"They?"
I should have been shaking. I should have been feeling some emotion, some wildness like I used to. What had happened? But maybe it was better this way. I could feel the weight of the .45 against my side and tightened my arm down on it lovingly. "They're after Velda," I said. "It's her. They're hunting her."
Hy squeezed his mouth shut and didn't say anything for a full minute. He laid the papers down and leaned back in his chair. "Why, Mike?"
"I don't know, Hy. I don't know why at all."
"If what I heard is true she doesn't have a chance."
"She has a chance," I told him softly.
"Maybe it really isn't her at all, Mike."
I didn't answer him. Behind us the door opened and Marilyn came in. She flipped an envelope on Hy's desk and set down the coffee container. "Here's a picture that just came off the wires. Del said you requested it."
Hy looked at me a little too quickly, opened the envelope and took out the photo. He studied it, then passed it across.
It really wasn't a good picture at all. The original had been fuzzy to start with and transmission electrically hadn't improved it any. She stood outside a building, a tall girl with seemingly black hair longer than I remembered it, features not quite clear and whose shape and posture were hidden under bulky Eastern European style clothing. Still, there was that indefinable something, some subtlety in the way she stood, some trait that came through the clothing and poor photography that I couldn't help but see.
I handed the photo back. "It's Velda."
"My German friend said the picture was several years old."
"Who had it?"
"A Red agent who was killed in a skirmish with some West German cops. It came off his body. I'd say he had been assigned to REN too and the picture was for identification purposes."
"Is this common information?"
Hy shook his head. "I'd say no. Rather than classify this thing government sources simply refuse to admit it exists. We came on it separately."
I said, "The government knows it exists."
"You know too damn much, Mike."
"No, not enough. I don't know where she is now."
"I can tell you one thing," Hy said.