Her features were refined, absolutely chiseled. Still, you could never go by looks. I remembered what the redhead had told me and gave the blonde a grin.
“Honey,” I complained, “I’ve been waiting for you.”
“Oh?” she said.
“I wanted to thank you for taking me in,” I explained. “I guess I was in pretty bad shape.”
“Your condition wasn’t good,” she was noncommittal. She arranged the newspapers on the table with quick, efficient hands. Her neckline wasn’t as obliging as the redhead’s and I wondered if the redhead hadn’t been snowing me.
“You must’ve had a time getting me fixed up,” I said.
She straightened from the table. “Our setup is for women patients here,” she said flatly, blank faced. “Is there anything you need?”
I could have strangled the redhead for pitching me a curve, but she probably thought it funny as hell. “Can’t think of anything,” I said.
She stood there for a moment. “In that case I’ll just straighten the bed a bit.”
She gave me a look that meant nothing, then leaned over me to straighten the sheets across my chest.
I don’t know what it was, something in the way she moved, the way she leaned into me a little closer than was absolutely necessary. All at once I knew the redhead hadn’t been lying, not by a long shot. My free hand grasped one of her lovely shoulders and she tensed. A shudder coursed through her body before she turned to me angrily, but I kept my hand where it was.
“You have to look close to find that mole,” I said.
Her face was still a holdout. “I don’t have to look close to see what’s on your mind,” she said.
“It’s been a lonesome day,” I slid my arm around her back. “Long and lonesome.”
“What makes you think I could speed things up?” she asked, her voice softened.
“I’m hoping.”
She was nympho all right, all the way through. It was in the way she arched her back, the way her body responded to your touch. I drew her close, just close enough. I moved my hand up toward her throat as she leaned in close again.
“You work fast, Walters,” she said.
“Maybe I have to.”
“The welfare of the patient is always my first consideration,” she murmured. “I like to know that—”
Her face blanched with surprise, then fright as I squeezed my fingers into her neck and put on the pressure so she’d know I wasn’t kidding.
“Hey!” she gasped.
“Shut up!” I hissed. I swung her around so that her back was to me. Moving hurt like hell but I managed to sit up. After that it was easier. I hitched forward, swung my legs over the edge of the bed, and planted my feet on the floor.
“You dirty, lousy bastard!”
“Quiet!” I warned her.
“Bastard!”
She was going to be tough to handle though she was excited and wanted more. I maneuvered behind her and managed with my bad hand to pick up the book and wallet.
“Just what’re you trying to do?” There was interest in her voice though she struggled.
“You’ll find out, baby,” I said. “All you’ve gotta remember is that when we run into that guard you’d better convince him he doesn’t want to shoot me bad enough to put the bullet all the way through you.”
“You’ll never get out of here alive,” she said. But I could tell she hoped I did.
“Could be,” I shoved her forward toward the door. “It’s all depends on you.”
She balked. “We might both get killed,” she said. “That guy out there is carrying a real gun—with real bullets.”
“Keep it in mind,” I said. “Open up,” I let go of her neck. She swung toward me, but I was ready for her. I grabbed her arm and twisted it behind her. Then she opened the door and I saw the stocky, sandy-haired hood before he saw me. He sat across the room and read a magazine with his rod on the table next to him. It wasn’t until we were well into the room that he noticed that the blonde wasn’t alone. Then his eyes went wide with surprise as he grabbed the gun.
“Sit tight,” I answered his questioning look.
“Get back in there,” he growled, “before this goes into action,” he hefted the gun.
“And she gets it too?” I asked him as he stared at the blonde. The gun wavered in his hand, just noticeably. That was all I wanted to know.
“Come along, sugar.” I shoved the blonde across the waiting room toward the hall, turning as we moved, keeping her between me and the guard all the way. At the door I gave the gunny a nod. “Just stay where you are,” I suggested. “We don’t want the little lady to suffer.” Then I pulled the blonde out into the hall. “My clothes and rod?” I demanded.
She nodded toward a door at the end of the hall. “Down there. Locked up.”
When we got to the door I made her open it and I shoved her ahead of me, still keeping my grip on her wrist. The room was an office.
“Okay, honey.” I made her snap on the light. “Get my stuff.”
She nodded toward a safe behind the door. “It’s in there.”
“Open it up.”
“I don’t know how.”
I gave her arm a twist.
“Okay!” she glared at me over her shoulder. “Okay!”
I held her all the time she was working on the dial. When she had it open I twisted her to one side, reached into the safe, found the .38, and pulled it out. Then I let her go.
“My clothes,” I reminded her.
She gave me a defiant toss of the head. All hope apparently dimmed and with one wag of the rod she got my clothes and dumped them on the desk.
“If you don’t like the sights, don’t look,” I suggested.
Her beautiful mouth curled into a sneer. “At what?” she asked, but her eyes glittered.
It was quite a maneuver, getting out of the linen nightshirt and at the same time keeping the girl covered. I held the gun with my bad hand and kept my eyes on the blonde. The male figure was nothing new to her.
“I hope this doesn’t shock your modesty.” I struggled into my shorts. She called me a brief, anatomical name. “You peeked,” I chided her and she looked as if she had dislocated her lungs.
I managed my shirt and socks and tied knots in my shoelaces with one hand. It wasn’t the best deal in the world but it would have to do. I had trouble, though, trying to balance myself and get into my pants. So I glanced away from the blonde for a moment, then back at her.
I caught her off guard. Now it really showed in her eyes; she was loving every minute of it and having the toughest time keeping the sneer on her pretty pan.
“Give me a hand, sweetheart,” I said.
“I’d love to,” she said as she crossed to buckle my belt.
“No funny stuff,” I said.
It was no sooner out than she made a grab for my throat but I had the gun in her ribs.
She looked up at me, her lips parted, defiance bright in her eyes. She wanted to play; she was the kind that had to, even with a gun in her side. She stepped close to me as I leaned toward her; it was to my own interest to keep her intrigued. Her mouth came up to mine without further invitation and her tongue searched my mouth. I had to admit she knew how to get the desired effect. But I couldn’t let it go too far. I had to think of the guy outside. I shoved her away from me and fastened my belt.
“You rush things, baby,” I said and she smiled with pleasure. “Do you have a car?”
Her smile vanished. “No.”
I pointed the gun at the handbag that lay on top of the filing cabinet. “Is that yours?”
She hesitated. “What if it is?”
“Open it up and dump everything out on the desk,” I told her.
Her eyes were stubborn. “Why?”
I wagged the rod at her and she moved reluctantly to the file cabinet, picked up the bag, and emptied its contents on the desk. There was a key ring in the middle of the collection.
“Where is it par
ked?”
I picked up the keys, then had to coax her again with the gun.
“On the lot at the end of the block,” she said. “But that car is worth a pile of money!”
“I didn’t say you were cheap,” I said.
I glanced at myself in the mirror on the opposite wall, reached up, and ripped off the bandage. The side of my face looked like a pound of ground round but at least it wasn’t as noticeable as the bandage.
“Come on,” I took her arm again. “You’re beautiful and keeping me company for a while.” I wanted to make sure I found that car.
Once she knew she was coming with me interest lit her eyes. “Where?” she asked.
“Never mind,” I said. “What’s the fastest way out of here?”
This time she didn’t stall. “Across the hall. It goes out the back.”
I motioned her across the hall and through the door. We found ourselves in an exterior corridor which led to a rear stairway that went down and out of the building. I moved her ahead of me down the steps and we came out in the alley.
“Which direction?” I kept close to her.
“Follow me.” She led—and I followed.
At the end of the block was the parking lot and there was no attendant around; it wasn’t that kind of lot.
“Lead me to it,” I said.
The car was a black Packard coupe with white sidewalls. When we got to it, I motioned the blonde behind the wheel and climbed in beside her.
“Well,” she fitted the key into the ignition, “where to?”
I told her to get above Wilshire on a side street and head west.
“What’s Deitrich’s political affiliation?” I asked as she backed around. “Straight Talmadge?”
She gave me an innocent stare. “Talmadge?” she said. “Never heard of him.”
“Sure,” I said, “and I’ve never heard of Betty Grable.”
“Grable’s not so hot,” she flipped.
She pulled down the drive and out into traffic. It didn’t matter whether she wanted to talk about Talmadge or not. There were other sources for that sort of thing.
Chapter Fifteen
We traveled north toward Beverly Hills, the blonde nymph watching me from the corner of her eye as she drove, and her lips set in an expression of worry because Deitrich was going to be plenty sore when he found out I had kissed off his hospitality.
We kept moving, through Beverly, and I gave her the nod again as we approached one of the canyons that rose into the hills.
“Up there,” I said.
She gave me a wicked glance, then followed instructions.
The road twisted up the face of the hill and as we rounded a curve, approached an overhang that gave us a panoramic night view of the city.
“Pull up,” I said.
With a warm smile to replace the grim lips she parked at the edge of the cliff. It was a fine place for romancing. The litter that the headlights picked up proved it and if the blonde misunderstood my motives it was a natural mistake. She switched off the engine and the lights, leaned back in her seat, and gave me a slow, sidelong glance.
“We didn’t have to come up here.” She dropped her hand to my thigh. “I’ve got the cutest apartment you ever saw.”
“Sorry, baby,” I said, “thanks for the invitation. But here’s where I shove off. Alone.”
She jerked her hand away as though she’d put it on a hot burner.
“Some other time maybe. But right now—”
She lunged toward me, her eyes flashing with sudden outrage as her hand came up in a fast swipe at my face. I moved the rod out quick and let her take the barrel with her wrist. She recoiled with a cry of pain.
“You sonofabitch!” she cried. “I could kill you!”
“Some other time,” I motioned with the .38. “This is where you get out. I’m doing my own driving from now on.”
“But, you—”
“Out, honey, out!”
She looked out at the deserted street, the city below in the distance. “And how do I get down from here?” she demanded.
“Try walking,” I said. “Now quit the stalling and unload.”
Her eyes smoldered with hot hate; she suffered more from disappointment and wounded vanity than anything else. Then she got out quickly, slamming the door behind her, and I slid over behind the wheel.
“Even if it is my car,” she said, “I hope you wreck it and break your goddamned neck!”
“Thanks for the lift, kitten,” I said and shifted into gear as she called me something I didn’t hear.
I wheeled around and started back down the hill. I had some heavy thinking to do. The game was on for sure now and I had to figure some way to get the deal.
* * * *
I parked the car three blocks short of the Vanguard and hiked the rest of the way, keeping shy of the lights of the oncoming traffic, and stopped when I got to the corner across from the apartment building.
Cars were parked along both curbs. Directly across from the Vanguard entrance there was a blue coupe and a man stood with his foot on the front bumper and smoked. He was like a plainclothes cop and because he hadn’t spotted me I could watch him. He threw down the cigarette, ground it out with his foot and got inside the car.
There was something—I guess it went back to when I was a kid and the law was the Big Authority—that made me squeamish about going after a cop, which was like begging for bad luck; like turning up clubs when you wanted spades. This time, though, it had to be done.
I started moving up through the shadows toward the car and hoped the dick had been there long enough to get bored. I didn’t want him too sharp because my bad arm was enough disadvantage.
Abreast of the car I crouched to move in close. There was no one coming along the sidewalk as I eased in on the car until I was right next to it. The cop stayed quiet. I waited for a moment, then pounded the door with my palm. It sounded as though someone had thrown something from back in the bushes.
I felt him move sharply inside the car. I waited. But so did he. After that first move of surprise, he held it.
I took another swipe at the door, only harder. That stirred him. I felt the shift of his weight, then the car swayed away from me and the door opened on the opposite side. A foot scraped on the concrete of the street. I shoved myself in close to the rear wheel and balanced myself on the balls of my feet. I took out the .38 and held it ready.
He circled around easy, not a man to rush things. His foot appeared cautiously at the edge of the fender. One more step and I was into it. He took it and I rose up out of the darkness as fast as I could.
Lady Luck gave me the nod for in that crucial split second his attention was on the shrubs across the walk. He had his gun out but never had the chance to use it. The same movement that brought me to him, swung the butt of the .38 down fast behind his ear. He went limp against my chest and I eased him down to the ground and listened. He was breathing easy. Before long he would be coming to.
I left him with shadows, crossed the street to the Vanguard, moved up to the door, and looked through the glass panel to see the desk man, but no one else. How, I wondered, was I going to get past him?
Then the break happened; he turned and entered the office behind the desk. He didn’t close the door after him, but I couldn’t ask for everything.
Crouched forward I made a fast, silent cross to the stairs and apologized for the cracks I’d made about the thick carpets. I made it up the curve of the stairs and out of sight without any trouble. Now it was a question of Vicki being in.
I hiked to the third floor without meeting anyone in the halls and rang the bell at Vicki’s door. There was a moment of silence, then she opened the door.
For a moment she couldn’t believe it was really me. Then she reached up to brush back the wave of dark hair at her forehead, and stood with her hand at the side of her face. She’d had a rough time.
“Steve,” she said.
“Hi, beautiful,” I said.
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Fear rushed into her eyes. “Inside,” she said. Her eyes held to my face. “You’re hurt!” Then she glanced out in the hallway behind me.
I shook my head as I stepped inside the door. “I came alone.” Her arms went around my neck and she kissed me desperately.
“I’ve been nearly out of my mind,” she said. “The stories in the papers—how’d you get here?”
“Who has that much time?” I replied and gestured toward the phone. “Is your line still tapped?”
“Yes. But Mr. Kellerman made a deal with the switchboard.”
“Kellerman?” I nodded at the apartment. “Your friend?”
“Uh-huh. He arranged everything. He got the car back for me. They’re keeping me out of it—so he won’t get dragged into it—but they’re still watching the apartment.”
I nodded. “I know. I had to sap the watchdog across the street to get in.” I crossed to the phone. “You’re sure it’s all right?”
“Yes. It’s been arranged.”
I turned back to her. “You can help me.”
She came over to me. “What do you want me to do?”
I bent down and brushed my lips across her forehead. “You’d do it, wouldn’t you?”
“Anything.”
“How are you on impersonations?”
“Depends.”
“You have to sound cultured and refined. Just put a little finishing school with what you’ve got and you’ll be fine.”
“I can manage that,” she said. “Who do I call?”
“Talmadge,” I said. “But before you get him on the line—”
We both tensed as the phone rang and Vicki looked at me. “Answer it,” I said.
She picked it up and said hello. Then she listened for a moment, her eyes on my face, and hung up.
“That was the desk.” There was panic in her voice. “The cops are on their way up. The one you knocked out had a companion around back.”
I didn’t wait; I started for the door. “That puts me out in the snow,” I said quickly.
She ran after me. “I’m coming with you.”
I stopped, my hand on the door. “Don’t be a romantic idiot,” I said roughly. “This isn’t a tea party I’m mixed up in. They’re free to shoot me down at sight if they want to.”
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