I remained where I was. “What’s the matter, gorgeous?”
She wrung her red-tipped hands.
“Nick’ll beat my brains out for draggin’ him up here on a wild goose chase. But I swear there was somebody — oh, I need a drink.”
She had two before she came up for air. I watched her with no expression on my face but a silly grin to hide the dull throb of the bad shoulder.
Dolly Warren was pretty drunk now but I let the drinks settle a while longer. I nursed my own drink getting as much good out of it as I could. It helped me forget the bullet hole.
“What’s so funny?” She flung the question at me angrily.
“Just remembered a funny story a fellow told me the other day.”
She brushed the curls out of her eyes. “Yeah? Well, don’t get funny. You’re cute but I’m Nick’s girl and he don’t like nobody to get funny with me except him.”
“Nick’s a pretty funny guy himself.”
“Ain’t he though? Just like a big monkey.” She ripped out a sudden throaty laugh. “You’re sharp, Ted. Real sharp.”
She fell back against the mountain of pillows with a seizure of laughter. Deep-chested, gutty, hard laughter. I knew it for what it was. She was getting hysterical.
I got up, reached her, and took her soft arm at the elbow. I squeezed the flesh gently. Sweat wasn’t making me feel exactly cool but I shook the feeling off. Dolly Warren wasn’t in any condition to notice.
“Nick’s sharp too, Dolly. Nobody should ever cross Big Nick,” I said.
That sobered her up a bit. “You said it. Wait’ll you’re around with him a little longer. You’ll see.”
“I don’t have to be around long, Dolly. I read what happened to that cop Peters.”
“Peters?” she simpered. “That’s different. He was a cop and on Nick’s back. He got too close to Nick’s policy racket. So Nickie shut him up good.” She made a cute expression with her face. I was grim, as she was singing her head off.
“I need a drink.” I wasn’t making conversation anymore.
“Where’s Nickie?” She was impatient again, rubbing her elbow with one slender hand. She stood up, swaying. “Wait — we both need a refill. This waitin’ drives you nuts, don’t it?” She lurched over to the miniature bar and ducked behind its shiny back to rummage for something. Reappearing with a new bottle, she filled our glasses to the brim.
I arched my back to ease the deadness of my arm. I slid the .45 out of its harness and pointed it at Dolly Warren. She was bringing back the drinks with drunken alacrity when she saw the gun in my hand.
Flinging her hands to her face, she let the glasses crash to the floor. The flush of intoxication and her natural bloom of health drained right out of her curved cheeks.
“Sit down, sister.”
She sat down without a murmur, her arms dangling without control, her soft body completely spent. Her vacant blue eyes got a shade darker.
“You’re not from Nick,” she moaned.
“No, I’m not.”
“You’re a cop!”
I shook my head. “No, Dolly. I’m the friend of a cop. A very dead cop. Mike Peters. Remember him, Dolly?”
“No!” It screamed out of her.
“He was a very good looking boy before he met up with those blackjacks.”
Half mad with fright now, she sagged on the divan, one long, lovely leg trailing to the floor. She stared at me, her eyes wide pools of terror. She was a child who had just found out the Sandman was real.
“What are you going to do? I didn’t have anything to do with it, I tell you.”
I reached, grabbed a handful of her luxuriant curls and yanked her to a sitting position. She cried out with the pain of it and sat back gasping, her breasts heaving.
“Don’t lie to me, Dolly. I want the whole rotten truth. Mike never would have gotten himself holed up in a dark alley like that unless a beautiful dish like you had arranged to meet him there. That was Mike’s weakness. Beautiful dishes. But it’s not mine.”
She tried to clutch my gun hand in a burst of mad courage but I didn’t let her. My open hard palm flicked twice. Two angry streaks of red flamed her cheeks.
“I want it now, Dolly. A full confession. It’s that or this toy in my hand goes off. Know what a .45 would do to your face at this range?”
“Don’t,” she blubbered. “Not that. Honest, you got me all wrong. I never—”
She halted suddenly and the swift flash of relief that flooded her eyes made me freeze where I stood. I didn’t turn or bat an eyelash. I’d forgotten about the front door. My burning shoulder and my blind anger had made me forget a lot of things.
“Don’t move or you’re a dead man,” somebody behind me said in a voice that had no emotion at all. A door slammed shut violently and footsteps slithered in the foyer.
I spread my hands. The automatic fell to the rug. There wasn’t anything else to do now. I waited. Dolly Warren rushed forward, crying.
“Get around, don’t you, Eddie?” I didn’t have to turn around to know that Big Nick Torrento had put two and two together and come up with a fast, workable four.
They moved into the room from the fancy foyer. Big Nick Torrento, a battered looking Velvet and another hood whose face was new to me but his expression wasn’t. They all had their hats on and the pair flanking Big Nick also had guns.
Torrento’s face was a flabby mask of anger and Velvet was fairly licking his thin lips. The third man just kept his gun pointed at my head.
“Three to one, Nick? It hardly seems enough.”
“Eddie, this was one hunch of mine that paid off. I was wondering what held Dolly up. Frisk him, Velvet.”
Dolly was blubbering in Nick’s arms. “Oh, Nickie, he hit me an’ he was asking me all kinds of questions!”
They were all in front of me now and Nick was glaring. His face was livid. “Rough stuff, is that it? You’re a little too free with your hands, Eddie. Go ahead. Velvet.”
I knew what was coming but I couldn’t get out of the way.
Velvet cackled and kneed me from behind. I doubled up and he came back with a bony fist that slammed me to the floor. I fell like a beat-up rug, the blood spinning in my head, red-hot rivets hammering away at the shoulder again. The floor swam in front of me. The point of something, it felt like Dolly Warren’s high-heeled weapon, dug into my side. I tasted blood again.
“Hold it,” Torrento’s voice sounded above me. “That’s enough for now.” Big Nick sounded far away. “Get some water, Dolly. I want to talk to him.”
Water exploded in my face. I opened my eyes. I raised myself to one knee, holding back a groan. I tried a grin through my split lips.
“You boys don’t really have to show me all this kindness,” I muttered. Velvet’s big hands helped me the rest of the way, shoving me roughly on to the divan.
Big Nick had one of his fat cigars going. His tiny eyes were shining with grudging admiration.
“You’re tough, Eddie. I’ll say that much for you. But I hate cops who get too close to me. Even ex-cops. Big Nick is paying for your last ride.”
“I figured that, Nick.”
Velvet suddenly looked surprised. “He’s got lead in him now, boss. The boys did better than they thought.”
“See, shamus?” Big Nick said. “Mess around us and you get hurt.”
Blood and pain made me hold my teeth together. “Mike Peters got hurt too, Nick.”
Torrento shook his thick head. “Got a one-track mind, you have. Yeah. Mike Peters. Your friend. He got close. Too close. So I pushed him out of the way. Dolly made that one easy. Once he caught her act, he was as good as dead.”
I felt the blood pound in my skull. My left arm was useless now. Like I’d slept on it all night. Only bitter hate kept me going. Hate and the picture of Peters lying in an alley with his face all caved in. That and this lovely, stupid wench who had led him on with a kiss and a promise.