Primal Spillane

by Mickey Spillane

  With night glasses glued to his eyes, Jerry studied the ocean. Before many minutes a grey hull slide into view, a warship of rakish design flying the Union Jack. This was it! He studied it in detail, to be sure of making no mistakes. That was no Britisher, nor one of ours; the construction was decidedly Japanese! Well, they had a surprise coming, all right!

  But the action on shore had taken another twist, too. The power launch ran ashore, and the skipper dashed to a bungalow to telephone. Now in that house, the beach lifeguards were having a party. When they heard the excited babble of the boatman they lost no time.

  “Mickey,” the captain, hollered to the rest. “Gill, Wilson, Lane! Hey, the rest of you guys, too! Let’s get in on this. Get some of the boys from the other beaches. We’ve got a job to do!”

  Steam was pouring from the stacks of the warship when the commander spotted the lightship. He threw an order to a junior officer in a high, sharp voice, and the ship eased off to the right a little. His carefully planned plot was progressing nicely, he mused. Only once did his brow wrinkle. That was when he thought he saw the shore, but that couldn’t be, he thought.

  ***

  CRASH! The ship lurched violently, its keel scraping along the bottom! The bow shot up as the water grew shallower. Men were pitched from their positions into the sea, while others fell from the rigging. Slowly the great ship tilted to one side, hopelessly wedged in the sand!

  There was no time to launch the boats; men milled around in the water, struggling to get free of their clothes. Even then the commander shouted his orders in clipped Japanese. “To the shore! Do as much damage as you can!” The little brown men started swimming.

  “Here they come, guys. Do your stuff!”

  The lifeguards grinned at each other, and powerful muscles rippled as they swam to meet the Japs. The little men never knew what hit them. A tug at the leg, a strong hand around a throat, and bubbles! Big Wilson was clipping chins and sinking Japs so fast he hardly had time to breathe.

  WHAM! BAM! BLUBBB! They were disappearing by the score! But even at that rate hundreds were reaching the shore. Down swooped the boys from Fort Tilden! The call had gotten them up in the middle of the night, and they hadn’t had time to dress, but nobody cared.

  Like a plague, they rolled across the sand to meet the Japs, shouting a mighty battle yell!

  That wave of men hit the advancing Japs like a thunderbolt. Picking them off, they saw the Japs had no guns, so, spearing their bayoneted guns into the sand, they waded into the Japs with their bare hands and batted the brown men to the ground. Then they picked them up … shook them like terriers, and tossed them back into the ocean!

  Sergeant Devlin was late to the fray. He took one look and shouted, “Well, what d’ya know! Jappies! If you guys don’t save a few for me I’ll knock yer ears off!”

  The sarge was the regiment’s heavyweight champ, and when he waded in, Japs flew around like snowflakes!

  But on the wrecked boat, some of the men mounted machine guns on two life rafts and paddled for shore. If they ever reached, many would shed their blood on the sand. Jerry caught this from the Wells with his night glasses, and a longboat went over the side. With the two cylinder engine putt-putting, he made for the floating death. He quickly jabbed one of the blades on his two bladed pocket-knife into the wooden bow … and chugged on! But, they spied him coming, opening fire with the gun!

  BULLETS took chunks out of the wood and whizzed around his head, but they couldn’t stop Jerry! His longboat plowed into the rubber boat with a soggy crunch, the knife ripping it open like a toy balloon! That was the last of them! But, it seemed to be the last of him, too, for water was pouring into the boat. Jerry slipped into a lifejacket and headed for shore.

  The Japs in the other rubber boat patted their machine gun convincingly. They hadn’t been seen. Or so they thought!

  Mickey swam over to Gill. “Hey, Joe. There’s another mess of them. Let’s get ’em!”

  Joe grinned. “Come on!” he whispered. They oozed through the slight swells, keeping well down in the water. They reached the rubber boat, and nodding at each other, grabbed the side and spilled the whole mess into the sea! The Japs came up spluttering. A fist came out of no where, and one groaned and went down! Others were just vanishing as pairs of hands grabbed their legs and yanked. They didn’t come up again!

  Shouts from the shore brought the lifeguards in. They had cleaned out all that were left in the water, but when they got to shore they had no chance for further action. The soldiers had done a good job. The beach was a mess of fallen Japs who lay very, very still. It had all happened so fast that it was hard to believe.

  Jerry was being patted on the back by the soldiers, and the lifeguards were gabbing the action over with many gestures. The commanding officer of the fort came up to Jerry.

  “That sure was a nice piece of work, Mr. Crain. Took fast thinking, and I commend you for it!” The officer bent over and whispered in Jerry’s ear, “Now, if I were you, I’d hustle back to my ship before a cutter comes around. A ship without a Captain spells maritime court, even in a case like this!”

  ***

  Killer’s Return

  RIPPING the night apart with its shrill clang, the burglar alarm on Forbes’ jewelry shop made a curious throng collect outside the store. Bill Evans, the insurance investigator, pushed his way through and stuck his pass key in the lock. The door opened under his touch, and he stepped inside.

  One hurried look told him all that he needed to know. Huddled on the floor like a bundle of rags was the body of the watchman, while the door of the safe dangled from broken hinges. Quick strides took him around the room, inspecting doors and windows. Everything was locked tight, leaving the floor upstairs the only way out. Bill had arrived seconds after the alarm went off. If only the killer hadn’t had time to get away!

  He went up the stairs two at a time, crouching low when he came to the top landing. His breath came slowly, and he peered desperately through the gloom. Slowly he crept into the darkened rooms about him. There too, everything was still, and the windows locked tightly! This was too much! The killer couldn’t’ have gotten away, but where was he?

  It came to him then, like a flash that left him enraged at his own stupidity. Whoever committed the crime must have hidden in the safe while he went upstairs, and by now he would be gone! Bill tore downstairs and made a mad dash for the door. He nearly knocked down the policemen that were standing outside.

  Captain George Woods of the detective squad spotted him. “Hey, Bill, take it easy! Is anything gone inside?”

  “Plenty, the safe is clean, and the night watchman is dead. What’s worse, the killer got out while I was upstairs.”

  “Well, he couldn’t have gotten far — we blocked all the streets around here about ten minutes ago. If what you said is so, then he’s somewhere in this crowd!”

  “QUICK, question those that were standing around for a description of anybody that came out. Then knock off a general search for the stuff. There isn’t any place to duck it, which means that the guy that pulled the job still has it on him.”

  Woods started off on his mission just as Mr. Forbes himself came up. He was a shriveled old crank, bursting with excitement. Bill and he went inside to get a list of what was stolen. “I don’t know what I’m paying your company for if I can’t get any protection!” Forbes said.

  “Don’t worry, if you don’t get it back, you’ll collect the insurance.”

  “I don’t give a hang about the insurance! Somebody stole the Rogers diamond! It was especially cut for a beauty contest winner in South Carolina!”

  Evans whistled softly. He hadn’t known that Forbes had the stone, at least it wasn’t insured with his company.

  “Well, a thing like that will take a lot of hiding!”

  Bill went out to see Woods. The questioning resulted in a stalemate. Several people had seen a tall, thin man come out, but he seemed to be in no hurry, so everyone took him for a watchman or
something. The search proved fruitless, too. There were a lot of tall, thin men among the several hundred in the crowd, but none of them had anything on them.

  BILL went home that night with a problem on his mind. There was no doubt but what the killer had gotten out the way he thought, but what happened to him? Evidently he had looked the place over carefully before attempting the robbery, for it was only by accident that the alarm went off at all. The safe had been cut through with an acetylene torch, wielded by an expert hand.

  Sleeping brought no solution, and Bill awoke as puzzled as ever. Outside a newsboy was hawking the story of the robbery, and he sent out for a copy. Perhaps the police had found a lead on the case. However, there was nothing new. A four column picture of the crowd in front of the store took up the front page, and Bill looked at it carefully. Nope, not a thing to work on.

  Laying the paper down, he walked to the window and looked out at his own corner. He thought to himself, “What would I do if I had to duck a bag full of stones out there?” He shrugged his shoulders. There just wasn’t any place to hide anything!

  A bunch of kids were setting up a racket on the street with their ball playing. The shouting was ordinary until there was a sudden hard “smack” of a solidly hit ball. One side was yelling their cheers, but suddenly the note changed, and everyone on both sides was hollering, “Get it! Quickly, don’t let it go down!”

  The ball must have been retrieved safely, for an audible sigh of relief went up. “Queer,” thought Bill. Something was trying to pound its way into his head, but he couldn’t quite make it. He picked up the paper again and glanced through it, finally getting back to the picture. Sitting down, he fenced off the photo with a lot of squares, and went over each square separately, paying close attention to every detail.

  After an hour he gave up in disgust. The situation seemed hopeless. Bill’s mind drifted back to the kids in the street. What was it they had said? “Don’t let it go down.” Why, there it was right in his lap: the solution to the whole thing! He grabbed up the picture and went over it. Sure enough, there was the thing he was looking for!

  TIME was precious, now. A cab took him to the front of Forbes’, and he hopped out and shot a quick glance around. Only the ordinary run of people were around, hurrying on their duties. The type of person he expected hadn’t turned up yet.

  “I hope I’m not too late!” he said to himself. Inwardly he didn’t think so, for it would probably be after the working crowd had gone that the killer would attempt his plan.

  He looked at his watch. Four-thirty. The streets were filling now. Bill Evans made himself as unobtrusive as possible in the shadowed doorway of one of the office buildings, his eyes sharp as he kept his watch. Two and half hours passed slowly, and nothing happened. Bill was getting ready to give up in disgust.

  At that moment a brown pickup truck came around the corner and pulled up by the curb on the other side of the street, directly opposite where Bill was standing. On the side was lettered, “CITY SEWERAGE DEP’T.” Bill’s eyes narrowed. This was it, all right!

  Bill was a little sorry now that he hadn’t let some of the police boys in on the job. The two mugs in the front seat looked like a mean pair. One of them got out and took a crowbar from the truck. He walked to a manhole cover, fitted the bar under the plate, and forced it out. A call brought the other guy, and he stood by the underground exit waving a red flag, as his pal went down.

  Trying to act as much like a jay-walker as possible, Bill crossed the street unnoticed by the suspect. Only when a blackjack thudded dully on his head did the man with flag realize that the game was up, but then it was too late!

  Bill flashed his badge on a startled pedestrian, “Watch this guy. Don’t let him wake up, and send somebody for the cops — hurry!” The guy was still yelling for help as Bill went down the iron rungs.

  The sewer was as dark as a tomb, with little furry things dashing over the damp stone floor. Faintly, the splashing of the sewer outlet could be heard. Bill tried to locate himself so that he pointed toward the north corner of the street above. On tiptoes he stole forward, feeling his way along the slimy wall.

  Suddenly a beam of light shot out of the darkness enveloping him in its brilliance! Just as suddenly he charged forward, and got his hands on a throat! Two figures in total darkness lashed out, fighting to the death. They stumbled about, swinging madly. Both of them connected against the other, and they grunted under the impact. Bill slipped, and the man over him headed for the tiny pinpoint of light that showed where the exit was.

  But Bill was not caught napping. His hand shot out and closed around an ankle. The man fell with a thud. Bill swarmed all over him, punching madly with both hands. He swung a wicked one and it connected solidly with the point of a chin. Rising, Bill grabbed the collar of the fallen man’s coat and dragged him to the exit.

  Police cars were screaming up the avenue, and two bluecoats stood with guns out peering down the manhole. Bill handed the crook up.

  Captain Woods ran over. “You, Bill! What is this?”

  “This is the guy that stuck up the Forbes shop,” Bill said. “You’ll probably find the stones in his pocket!” When he saw he was surrounded the night of the robbery, he tossed the swag down the sewer, and had to get to it through this manhole here. Pretty slick, I say!”

  Captain Woods scratched his head. “Well, I’ll be — how did you get wise?”

  “Oh, I heard a bunch of kids yelling not to let their ball ‘go down,’ and I got the idea of the sewer. That was the only possible place he could’ve hidden it!”

  ***

  The Man in the Moon

  BRUCE HENDERSON looked at the calendar on the wall and grinned slowly. The date was December 31, 1941 … New Year’s Eve, but here in the wild jungles of Brazil one would never know it. Instead of snow, and the icy streets of New York, the moist wind rustled though green tree tops, and multicolored birds chirped madly. Sweat poured from his forehead as Bruce gathered up his rifle and boxes of ammunition and placed them on a small cart.

  Minutes later he was trundling through the forest of ferns and shaggy trees with the load. He turned once, and looked at the house he had spent three years in, and then turned and went ahead. About fifty yards off was a clearing … one that represented tedious hours of back-breaking labor under a broiling sun. And there at one end was the greatest surprise of all … a rocket ship! Sleekly streamlined, it’s shiny exterior glistening in the morning light. It thrust its pointed nose toward the horizon like a trained greyhound.

  Opening a small hatch in the side, Bruce stowed away the last of his cargo. His brain whirled with thoughts of the past … how the newspapers and men of science scoffed at his plans to reach the moon. Screamingly funny, they said … the ravings of a maniac … ought to be put in an asylum. Well, they were going to be fooled! The moon can be reached, and will be! By this time next week, if his calculations proved correct, the 238,800 miles between Earth and Moon will have been spanned!

  ADVENTURE! Space opened to man, to cultivate and develop! This was living. People could have their stuffy little offices, they could work in smelly research labs, but he, Bruce, would battle the dangers of space! Just one last look around, and he hopped in and bolted the door behind him. Quickly, he took his place at the controls, consulted the instrument panel in front of him, then he reached out and pulled back slowly on a lever.

  Immediately a deafening roar blasted from the rear rocket tubes. Tropical plants disintegrated under the terrific power of the charges. Smoke and flame spat into the jungle, while the ship shivered slightly, eager to be off. Then the lever came back another notch. The ship lurched, slid forward, and under full gun tore down the clearing! For one awful instant Bruce thought he wouldn’t clear the trees. He touched the controls slightly … and the space ship responded valiantly. It shot skywards, and a moment later was lost to sight of the naked eye!

  Days went by swiftly. Whenever Bruce felt the urge to sleep, he set the robot controls and
closed his eyes. Steadily, the moon grew larger, while behind him Earth diminished to a small round sphere, with the continents clearly outlined. Outside, the sky was dotted with the brilliant globes of stars, and occasionally small pieces of space dirt rasped against the hull. Fortunately, the construction of the ship was strong enough to withstand the barrage, otherwise it would have been shredded into fragments!

  Once a comet flashed across the ship’s path, its long trail glowing brightly, and in an instant it was gone. Things never before seen by man were his to gaze upon in wonder. Asteroids … huge chunks of metal … whirled by, their craggy outlines passing across the horizon of stars. Several times Bruce had to veer out of their way, or smash against their unresisting sides! Some were perfectly smooth, like gigantic marbles, while others looked like pieces of iron ripped bodily from the earth. And all were without light and sound … reflecting only that which emanated from the sun.

  THE fifth day Bruce awoke from a sound sleep. He peered out … then made a wild clutch at the controls. The Moon was upon him! Desperately, he shut off the rear tubes and threw on the forward ones, braking the ship to a stop. Short miles ahead the white surface loomed, like something long dead. Before he had time to think, the space ship came in for a landing. It hit, bounced, then settled neatly on the crust, sliding along for miles before coming to a stop!

  Thrilled so that he could hardly move, Bruce donned a helmet, stepped into an air chamber, then jumped down to the ground. He made it! The first man to reach the Moon! He stepped forward, and then … rose above the surface for ten feet! Gravity … it was less than that on Earth … he must remember that! Air hissed into his helmet. He dared not remove it, for there was none on Moon. Gravity was so light that it could not keep the air from drifting off into space!