[Mike Hammer 03] - Vengeance Is Mine Read Free

Besides, you’re too well known to the boys to try to drop out of sight.”
    “Buy your bread and butter from me, will you?”
    Pat let out a laugh. “I wish you wouldn’t take it so lightly. You’re in the little black book right now on the special S-list.”
    I pulled out my wallet and slid my license out of the card case and threw it on his desk. “I won’t be needing that any more.”
    He picked it up and examined it sourly. A large envelope on the filing cabinet held my gun and the report sheet. He clipped the card to the form and started to put it back. On second thought he slid the magazine out of the rod and swore. “That’s nice. They put it in here with a full load.” He used his thumb to jack the shells out of the clip, spilling them on the desk.
    “Want to kiss old betsy good-by, Mike?”
    When I didn’t answer he said, “What are you thinking of?”
    My eyes were squinted almost shut and I started to grin again. “Nothing,” I said, “nothing at all.”
    He frowned at me while he dumped the stuff back in the envelope and closed it. My grin spread and he started to get mad. “All right, damn it, what’s so funny? I know that look ... I’ve seen it often enough. What’s going through that feeble mind of yours?”
    “Just thoughts, Pat. Don’t be so hard on a poor unemployed pal, will you?”
    “Let’s hear those thoughts.”
    I picked a cigarette out of the container on his desk, then put it back after reading the label. “I was just thinking of a way to get that ticket back, that’s all.”
    That seemed to relieve him. He sat down and tugged at his tie. “It’ll be a good trick if you can work it. I can’t see how you can.”
    I thumbed a match and lit up a smoke. “It won’t be hard.”
    “No? You think the D.A. will mail it back to you with his apologies?”
    “I wouldn’t be a bit surprised.”
    Pat kicked the swivel chair all the way around and glared at me. “You haven’t got your gun any more, you can’t hold him up.”
    “No,” I laughed, “but I can make a deal with him. Either he does mail it back with his apologies or I’ll make a sap out of him.”
    His palms cracked the desk and he was all cop again. This much wasn’t a game. “Do you know anything, Mike?”
    “No more than you. Everything I told you was the truth. It’ll be easy to check and your laboratory backs up my statements. The guy was a suicide. I agree with you. He shot himself to pieces and I don’t know why or when. All I know is where and that doesn’t help. Now, have you heard enough?”
    “No, you bastard, I haven’t.” This time he was grinning back at me. I shoved my hat on and left him there still grinning. When I closed the door I heard him kick the desk and swear to himself.
    I walked out into the glaring brightness of midday, whistling through my teeth, though by rights I should have been in a blue funk. I hopped in a cab at the corner and gave him my office address. All the way uptown I kept thinking about Chester Wheeler, or what was left of him on the rug. An out-and-out suicide and my gun in 15 his mitt, they said. Private citizen Michael Hammer, that’s me. No ticket, no gun and no business, even my hangover was gone. The driver let me out in front of my building and I paid him off, walked in and pushed the bell for the elevator.
    Velda was curled up in my big leather chair, her head buried in the paper. When I walked in she dropped it and looked at me. There were streaks across her face from wiping away the tears and her eyes were red. She tried to say something, sobbed and bit her lip.
    “Take it easy, honey.” I threw my coat on the rack and pulled her to her feet.
    “Oh, Mike, what happened?” It had been a long time since I’d seen Velda playing woman like this. My great big beautiful secretary was human after all. She was better this way.
    I put my arms around her, running my fingers through the sleek midnight of her hair. I squeezed her gently and she put her head