“Maybe it’ll be the last thing,” grated a harsh voice.
Then Jane Langford exclaimed in sudden pain.
In two leaps Johnny was at his front door. He tore it open, ran down the cement veranda to Jane Langford’s door and without bothering to knock, whipped the door open.
Jim Langford had one of Jane Langford’s wrists in one hand; his other was raised to strike her. The hand froze in mid-air as Johnny hurtled through the door.
“Hold it, chum!” Johnny cried.
Jim Langford let go of his wife’s wrist. He was six feet tall and outweighted Johnny by at least twenty pounds. He was a swarthy, vicious-looking man of about thirty-five. He most certainly was not the type you would expect a girl like Jane Langford to marry. But then she was divorcing him.
Langford bared his teeth at Johnny. “What the hell’s the idea bustin’ in here?”
“I heard the lady holler,” Johnny said coolly.
“You the house dick?”
“As far as you’re concerned — yes.”
“This happens to be my wife.”
“She won’t be the day after tomorrow,” Johnny retorted.
Langford’s eyes gleamed wickedly. “Oh, you know about that. You wouldn’t happen to be the lad who expects to take my place...?”
“What if I am?”
Langford’s lips twisted into a snarl. “Well, I’m glad to meet you, sucker. Been wantin’ to for some time...” He started toward Johnny.
Jane Langford sprang forward. “Jim — stop it!”
“Let him stop — this...!”
Langford stepped around his wife and swung a fist at Johnny. Johnny ducked and stuck at Langford’s midriff. His fist hit a muscular stomach and brought a grunt from Langford... and a smashing blow that landed high on Johnny’s face and sent him reeling back. Jim Langford started to follow through for another crushing blow, but Jane grabbed his arm.
“Stop it, Jim!” she cried. “I don’t even know this man.”
“Let him go,” Johnny muttered thickly. “I c’n handle him.”
Langford shook off his wife. “Handle this!” He sprang for Johnny, hit him heavily on the right ear and as he went down to his knees, gave him his foot.
Johnny wound up against the wall, flat on his face. A roaring filled his eyes as he tried desperately to get to his hands and knees. He made it after considerable exertion and shaking his head, looked at Jane Langford and her husband.
Jane was standing in front of her dresser; a very efficient-looking little automatic was in her hand and pointed at Langford.
“Get out,” she said, “get out before I become a widow instead of a divorcee.”
Jim Langford laughed harshly. “Damned if I don’t think you’d shoot.”
“Make a move in any direction except the door and you’ll find out.”
Johnny struggled to his feet. “I can handle him, baby...” he mumbled.
“You sure can,” jeered Langford. “And maybe you’ll get another chance.” He gave Johnny a half salute and went to the door. He stepped out upon the veranda, then turned for a parting shot at his wife.
“And don’t count too much on that divorce, sweetheart.” Then he passed out of sight.
Jane Langford came over to Johnny. “Did he hurt you badly?”
Johnny rubbed the fog from his eyes. “Him? He hardly touched me...”
“There a mouse starting up under your eye,” Jane Langford said. “Better go to your room and put a cold cloth on it.”
Johnny nodded. Bees were still buzzing in his head. “See you later, baby...”
He went to the door, passed through and entered his own room, the door of which was still standing open. Sam was snoring as loudly as before.
Johnny went into the bathroom, moistened a cold wash cloth at the tap and put it to his face. After a moment he returned to the bedroom and, throwing himself on the second bed, went to sleep.
Chapter Seven
When Johnny awakened one of the floor lamps was lighted. He sat up on the bed and looked across the room at Catch ’Em Alive Mulligan, who was seated in an armchair beside the floor lamp, reading the evening Las Vegas Nugget. As the bed creaked, he put down his paper.
“Hello, Fletcher,” he said. “Somebody hang one on you?”
“Believe it or not,” Johnny retorted, “I bumped into a door.” He touched his face and discovered that the mouse had practically disappeared. The spot felt sore, as did his chest where Jim Langford’s foot had caught him, but on the whole the sleep he had had made up for everything. He felt pretty good.
“I hear you’ve been killing ’em,” Mulligan continued.
“Only slightly,” Johnny replied. “I wonder what time it is by my watch in the Kansas City hock shop.”
“Almost nine o’clock, since it’s seven here.”
“Then I ripped off seven hours.” Johnny looked over at the other bed. Sam was still sound asleep, but his snoring was negligible.
Mulligan pointed at the yellow checks on the dresser. “Careless. The door wasn’t even locked.”
“I didn’t think there was any danger,” Johnny said. “They tell me the cops are very good in Las Vegas.”
“Everybody’s got his price,” said Mulligan.
“What’s yours?”
“It was a quarter of a million six years ago.”
Johnny looked at him sharply.
“My third wife,” Mulligan said calmly. “That’s what she paid me.”
“And you got rid of a quarter million in six years?”
Mulligan laughed without humor. “I went through it in a year and a half. I dropped the last hundred thousand in LV. That’s why I’m a cop here.”
“Memories are tough.”
“Not mine. I’ve lived. I was a big game hunter and I wrote a book that sold a million copies. I made a movie and I made a movie star. I had a regular table at the Stork Club and I spent a weekend in the White House. I was married to a woman worth fifty million bucks. We had a house in New York, a cottage at Bar Harbor, an estate on Long Island, a place in Florida and a ranch in New Mexico. What else can a man have?”
“A woman who hasn’t got fifty million.”
“I’ve got her; my fourth wife. She does the washing herself.”
“I’d like to meet her.”
“Maybe you will.” Mulligan folded his newspaper. “What do you want, Fletcher? I mean, here in Las Vegas?”
Johnny thought for a moment. “I was driving into Death Valley last night. There was a man staggering along beside the pavement... he’d been shot...”
“Yes?”
“He died. But before he cashed in, he gave me this...” He drew out the pack of playing cards and the purple check. Mulligan got up, and coming over, took them from Johnny’s hand.
He took the cards out of the box riffled them out, then put them back into the box. The purple check he turned over and over. “What was his name — this fellow in Death Valley?”
“He never got to tell me.”
“What’d he look like?”
“About fifty. I guess he would have weighed about a hundred and forty.”
“Where does Nick come in?”
“Nick?”
“You’ve been asking all around town about a guy named Nick.”
“Well, that’s all he said. Gave me the cards and the purple check and told me to send them to Nick in Las Vegas. He tried to give me his whole name, but he couldn’t.”
Mulligan’s face was screwed up in thought. “I don’t place him, Johnny — not from your description. And I know at least twenty men here named Nick. You... searched him?”
“Yes. That was all he had on him; the cards and the check. Except these paper matches...” He tossed them to Mulligan.
Mulligan looked at the matches and nodded. “So that’s why you wanted to stay at this place.” He handed the articles back to Johnny. “But why?”