“My old office. I’m back in business, or reach me through the Blue Ribbon Restaurant.”
He gave me that big grin again and winked. Now he was doing an act he liked. There are always frustrated cops and firemen. I shook hands with Joey, waved at Cindy, and left them to battle about the mink bit again.
Rickerby’s man gave me a funny look and a curt nod when I showed, asked if there were anything else, and when I said no, made his phone call to clear and took off. Then I went upstairs.
I could hear her all the way, like a wild bird singing a crazy melody. She had an incredible range to her voice and just let it go, trilling some strange tune that had a familiar note, but was being interpreted out of its symphonic character.
The singing didn’t come from the floor where I had left her, either. It was higher up and I made the last flight in a rush and stood at the end of the corridor with the .45 in my hand wondering what the hell was going on. She had everything wrapped up in that voice, fear, hate, anxiety, but no hope at all.
When I pushed the door open slowly her voice came flooding out from the peculiar echo chamber of the empty room. She stood facing the corner, both hands against the wall, her head down, her shoulders weaving gently with the rhythm of her voice, her silken blond hair a gold reflection from the small bulb overhead.
I said, “Sue . . .” and she turned slowly, never stopping, but, seeing me there, went into a quiet ballet step until she stopped and let her voice die out on a high lilting note. There was something gone in her eyes and it took a half minute for her to realize just who I was.
“What are you doing up here?”
“It’s empty,” she said finally.
“Why do you want it like that?”
She let her hands drift behind her back. “Furniture looks at you. It means people and I don’t want any people.”
“Why, Sue?”
“They hurt you.”
“Did somebody hurt you?”
“You know.”
“I know that nobody has hurt you so far.”
“So far. They killed my mother.”
“You don’t know that.”
“Yes I do. A snake killed her.”
“A what?”
“A snake.”
“Your mother died of natural causes. She was . . . a sick woman.”
This time Sue shook her head patiently. “I’ve been remembering. She was afraid of a snake. She told me so. She said it was the snake.”
“You were too young to remember.”
“No I wasn’t.”
I held out my hand to her and she took it. “Let’s go downstairs, sugar. I want to talk to you.”
“All right. Can I come back up here when I want to?”
“Sure. No trouble. Just don’t go outside.”
Those big brown eyes came up to mine with a sudden hunted look. “You know somebody wants to hurt me too, don’t you?”
“Okay, kid, I won’t try to con you. Maybe it will make you a little cautious. I think somebody is after you. Why, I don’t know, but stick it out the way I tell you to, all right?”
“All right, Mike.”
I waited until she had finished her coffee before I dropped the bomb on her. I said, “Sue . . .”
Then her eyes looked up and with a sudden intuition she knew what I was going to say.
“Would you mind going home?”
“I won’t go,” she said simply.
“You want to find out what really happened to your mother, don’t you?”
She nodded.
“You can help if you do what I ask.”
“How will that help?”
“You got big ears, kid. I’m an old soldier who knows his way around this business and you just don’t fool me, baby. You can do anything you want to. Go back there and stay with it. Somebody wants you nailed, sugar, and if I can get you in a safe place I can scrounge without having you to worry about.”
Sue smiled without meaning to and looked down at her hands. “He wants me dead.”
“Okay, we’ll play it your way. If he does there’s nothing he can do about it now. There’re too many eyes watching you.”
“Are yours, Mike?”
I grinned. “Hell, I can’t take ’em off you.”
“Don’t fool with me, Mike.”
“All right, Sue. Now listen. Your old man paid me five grand to handle this mess. It isn’t like he’s caught in a trap and is trying to con me because he knows all about me. I’m no mouse. I’ve knocked over too many punks and broke too many big ones to play little-boy games with.”
“Are you really convinced, Mike?”
“Honey, until it’s all locked up, tight, I’m never convinced, but at this stage we have to work the angles. Now, will you go back?”
She waited a moment, then looked up again. “If you want me to.” “I want you to.”
“Will I see you again?”
Those big brown eyes were a little too much. “Sure, but what’s a guy like me going to do with a girl like you?”
A smile touched her mouth. “Plenty, I think,” she said.
Sim Torrence was out, but Geraldine King made the arrangements for a limousine to pick up Sue. I waited for it to arrive, watched her leave, then went back to my office. I got out at the eighth floor, edged around the guy leaning up against the wall beside the buttons with his back to me, and if it didn’t suddenly occur to me that his position was a little too awkward to be normal and that he might be sick I never would have turned around and I would have died face down on the marble floor.
I had that one split-second glance at a pain- and hate-contorted face before I threw myself back toward the wall scratching for the .45 when his gun blasted twice and both shots rocketed off the floor beside my face.
Then I had the .45 out and ready but it was too late. He had stepped back into the elevator I had just left and the doors were closing. There wasn’t any sense chasing him. The exit stairs were down the far end of the corridor and the elevator was a quick one. I got up, dusted myself off, and looked up at the guy who stuck his head out of a neighboring door. He said, “What was that?”
“Be damned if I know. Sounded like it was in the elevator.”
“Something’s always happening to that thing,” he said passively, then closed his door.
Both slugs were imbedded in the plaster at the end of the hall, flattened at the nose and scratched, but with enough rifling marks showing for the lab to make something out of it. I dropped them in my pocket and went to my office. I dialed Pat, told him what had happened, and heard him let out a short laugh. “You’re still lucky, Mike. For how long?”
“Who knows?”
“You recognize him?”
“He’s the guy Basil Levitt shot, buddy. I’d say his name was Marv Kania.”
“Mike . . .”
“I know his history. You got something out on him?”
“For a month. He’s wanted all over. You sure about this?”
“I’m sure.”
“He must want you pretty badly.”
“Pat, he’s got a bullet in him. He’s not going to last like he is and if he’s staying alive it’s to get me first. If we can nail him we can find out what this is all about. If he knows he’s wanted he can’t go to a doctor and if he knows he’s dying he’ll do anything to come at me again. Now damn it, a shot-up guy can’t go prancing around the streets, you know that.”
“He’s doing it.”
“So he’ll fall. Somebody’ll try to help him and he’ll nail them too. He just can’t follow me around, I move too fast.”
“He’ll wait you out, Mike.”
“How?”
“You’re not thinking straight. If he knows what this operation is about he’ll know where you’ll be looking sooner or later. All he has to do is wait there.”
“What about in the meantime?”