The Long Wait

by Mickey Spillane

  Fifty yards away I found the wreck upside down with one crazily bent wheel still spinning foolishly. He was half out of the car because that was all that was left of him. The top half.

  It was still alive, too.

  It kept saying, “Doctor ... doctor.”

  I bent down and said, “Who sent you after me? Listen to me ... who sent you?” I lit a match and held it up so I could see his face, cupping my fingers over it to keep off the rain. “Tell me, feller. It’s too late for a doctor. Who sent you after me?”

  The eyes got some recognition in them briefly. He mumbled, “... Doctor ... need ... doctor,” then the rain put the match out anyway, but it didn’t matter because the guy was dead.

  Tough. Ha.

  I flipped open his jacket and lifted out his gun. I took the shoulder harness off too and tossed it as far as I could. The gun I dropped in my pocket. Then I found his wallet. There was one thousand bucks in hundred-dollar bills tucked behind two fives and a one. The grand went in with the gun and I put the rest back in his wallet and stuck it in his coat.

  Now the cops and the papers could blame the accident on a guy who had too much of what was for sale in Lyncastle.

  Now I could go back and ask Eddie Packman what the guy did to earn a grand and maybe squeeze him a little to make him talk.

  So I went back to the joint with the fancy French name and made some discreet inquires concerning Mr. Packman’s whereabouts. Only that man wasn’t around. He had left twenty minutes before with a party and was someplace in town having himself a time. Nobody knew where.

  I said to hell with it and had a drink. The lousy beer sat there in my stomach and growled at me because I had too much to drink and not enough to eat. That, at least, I could take care of. I got back in the car, drove out past the bus station to the highway and kept on going until I came to Louis Dinero’s place. The gun made a bulge in my pocket so I slid it behind the cushions and went in.

  Wendy was just coming on with her number and the patrons were letting out a long “Ahaaa” of satisfaction. I let out one myself and watched her step up to the mike. There was a baby spot behind her that shone right through the white dress she had on and the only thing you couldn’t see was what was on the other side. She was real pretty to look at, especially with all that skin showing. I slid into a table, told a waiter to bring me a steak, rare, then had a butt while Wendy made with some gentle spasms here and there until the dress seemed to crawl right off her.

  I looked around at all those jerks, watching the frozen expression of their faces, the too-plain lust in their eyes and all of a sudden I got mad—at Wendy. I didn’t like for a babe to show off to a pack of stiffs what she showed me in private.

  Then I felt like one of the jerks myself and dropped it. She was just another sugar cutie, a little better than most, but her hair came out of a bottle and up close her eyes were hard around the edges. So she liked to play games and who the hell was I to complain about it? The waiter brought my steak, I ate my way through it, paid my bill then caught Louie’s eye and he waved me over.

  The guy had a memory like an elephant and gave me a regular glad hand. When I asked him if it’d be okay for me to see Wendy backstage he told me sure and showed me where the entrance was to the dressing rooms. So I went back, found the door with W. M. lettered on it, turned the knob and shoved the door open.

  I should have knocked first.

  Chapter Eight

  SHE WAS just slipping out of the dress, a tan velvet animated thing partially hidden by the swirl of the translucent fabric. The lights from the dressing table behind her brought out the strong surge of youth in her body, the firm, sweeping curves of her breasts underlined by a stomach so flat it looked almost sucked-in and held in place with a play of muscles that danced as she moved.

  This is the way her act should have ended. I thought. It would have been pure art. She almost had the thing off when the band outside hit a chord and she knew the door was open. The second she saw me she looked like a frightened fawn ready to bolt, then she had the dress up in front of her and backed away from me with her eyes wide.

  I grinned because she was worried about the inevitable and it had stayed hidden. I said, “You do remember me, don’t you?”

  She licked her lips and a frown worked its way into her eyes. “Okay, kid, don’t drop dead from fright on me, will you? I’ve seen you like that before only it was better in the moonlight.”

  “You... startled me, Johnny. You should’ve knocked.”

  “It occurred to me too late.”

  “Well, if you don’t mind, play the gentleman for a second and turn your back. Moonlight and unshaded bulbs are two different things.”

  She threw me one of those funny smiles and I turned around. Women can sure get some screwy ideas. I said, “Got any plans for tonight?”

  I guess she took me wrong. The way she said no was as if I’d just slapped her across the jaw.

  “Not those kind of plans, Wendy. I meant were you figuring on doing anything tonight.”

  “Just go home to bed. I’m pretty tired.”

  “Like to take in the town some?”

  She didn’t say anything. I turned around and she was bent over peering into the mirror with a lipstick in her hand. The harsh light of the naked bulbs made her hair look like it had been painted on, but not deep enough. It was showing dark down around the scalp. I said, “Well?”

  “Not ... tonight, Johnny. I’m too tired.”

  “It’s pretty important.”

  The lipstick poised an inch away from her mouth. “Go on.”

  “The last of the unholy trio who tried to dump me in the quarry is out on the main highway in two pieces.”

  Her face made a grimace of horror before she spoke. “Did you ...”

  “I would’ve if I could’a caught him. He wrapped his car up.”

  “But what’s that got to do with tonight?”

  I looked at her and grinned a little bit, then slid into a wicker chair and lit a butt. “He had a thousand bucks in his pocket. All nice, new bills. It was pay-off dough.” I blew a finger of smoke into the lights and watched it roll up toward the ceiling. “He got that dough from a guy named Eddie Packman. I want to find that boy. Tonight.”

  “And you want me to go with you?”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “No.” She turned back to the mirror and drew the lipstick across her mouth slowly. Our eyes met in the mirror and held. “Johnny ... look, I know how you feel and all ... but I like to live. You’re trouble, bad trouble. You haven’t been here any time at all and already three people are dead.”

  “It’s only the beginning, kid.”

  “I ... know.” She dropped her head, then turned away from me quickly. “Do you ... mind too much?”

  I shrugged carelessly. “Not that much, sugar. A guy can do more when he’s not solo, that’s why I want company. Hell, half those fancy clip joints won’t even let you on the floor when you haven’t got a babe under your arm.”

  She slipped the lipstick back in its case and stared at it. Her head came up in a slow arc and she let her eyes roam over my face. “Sometimes ...” she began.

  “Yeah?”

  “Maybe it would have been better if you had stayed away, Johnny.”

  “Better for who, sugar? Better for a slob of a killer who’s out enjoying himself?”

  “I didn’t mean that.”

  Maybe it was the light that made her eyes look so misty. I couldn’t be sure so I stepped up to her for a better look and it wasn’t the light at all. They were misty and getting wetter until they swam in their own sadness. She smiled a little crookedly and reached for my hand.

  “I’m a sad sack, aren’t I?” she said. “I haven’t got any shame ... any sense. I’m sorry I’m silly, Johnny.”

  “You aren’t silly.”

  Outside, the band swung into a slow waltz, a tired song that drifted in through the walls like a vapor and wrapped around us. She had the light behind her
like the sun filtering through a haystack and a tear was ready to roll down each cheek. “You aren’t silly,” I said again.

  “I was doing fine until you came along. There’s a hundred men out there who’d love to make love to me and the only one I want is you.”

  I wanted to answer her, but there wasn’t any room for words. Her mouth was a fiery cushion against mine, her body a warm curve that melted and flowed into mine, pressing so tightly I could feel every tremor that ran in excited little ripples from her lips to her feet.

  My fingers caught in her hair and pulled her head back. “You’re a good kid, Wendy,” I grinned at her.

  She didn’t grin back. The corners of her eyes tilted with an obscure humor, but that was all. “Good? You know how good I am. I was good then I grew up. By the time I got smart it was too late. I was a tramp and I’m not making any bones about it. Take a long look, Johnny, and you’ll see it all, every bit of it. You’ll see a gal who’s been kicked around and did a lot of kicking herself. Now I put on an act that shows a little skin and I’m some sort of a success and until you came along I was pretty contented. I have a house, a car and a couple of good friends and I thought I had enough. See what you did to me?”

  “Nuts, you’re still a good kid.”

  This time she did grin. Just a little. “I can’t be. If I was I wouldn’t be so stupid and so perfectly frank as to stand here telling you that I was a tramp and almost in love with you to boot.”

  I tried to say something, but she wouldn’t let me get in a word. “Don’t worry about it, Johnny. Let me be stupid, but don’t feel sorry for me. If there’s any loving to be done, let me do it I’m not that stupid. I won’t tie you down no matter how many kisses you want. Is that plain enough?”

  For a good ten seconds I did nothing but stand there and look at her. It was the first time her soul was in her face and it wiped out all the hard lines around her eyes. I said, “Yeah... I guess it is.”

  “By the way ... I have news about your Vera West.”

  I hardly heard her. “Tell me.”

  “I asked around like you told me to and one of the entertainers saw her up at the State Capital a few years back. She was playing around with some local character.”

  “How’d they know it was Vera?”

  “Because she had seen her with Servo when she was booked in some of the clubs in Lyncastle.”

  I grunted something and nodded. When I thought about it I said, “Was that before or after she broke up with him?”

  She pinched her tongue between her teeth, then, “When she vanished she vanished completely, didn’t she?”

  “Looks that way.”

  “Then it must have been before.”

  I thought it over but my mind couldn’t fit it in anyplace. So she took a flyer on Lenny and so what. Maybe she was tired of his games. I shoved her away gently, holding her out where I could look at her. “Keep asking. Maybe something good’ll turn up. Sure you won’t change your mind about tonight?”

  “Please ... not tonight.”

  I liked that about her, too. I tossed the butt into an ash tray and opened the door. The tail end of the waltz rushed in on a wave of applause, echoing off the walls. When I looked back she was still standing there watching me. “Kid,” I said, “I’m not so interested in virgins that I’d trade a real woman for one.”

  He smile was beautiful this time. Then she stuck her tongue out at me and I shut the door.

  Louie met me coming out and waved me over to the bar for a drink. Without being told the bartender shoved some thing that bubbled under our noses and we raised the glasses in a silent toast. Louie smacked his lips and crooked his head at me. “Tell me something. You take Wendy away from here?” He caught the question in my glance and added, “I see her watch you alla time. Me, I know. I have the wife. Lots of pretty girls before that too, you betcha!” He let out a series of grunts and patted himself in the belly in pleasure.

  “Look, Louie, you don’t want to lose her, do you?”

  “Hell, Wendy goes and my trade goes too.” He grunted again. “Maybe not. Men, they like to see the naked women. Sometimes I don’t think they care what she’s like as long as she’s female.”

  “You’re quite a philosopher. Wendy’s not a naked woman.”

  “Sure, that’s even better. She’s better’n a stripper. Let her show one extra inch and these men think they really see something... Not so good to show it all at once. Wendy, she’s a good girl.” He peered at me knowingly.

  “That’s what I told her, Louie.”

  “She’s had it rough you know.”

  “Sure.”

  “But she’s a nice girl. You understand?”

  “I understand.”

  “You treat her rough and you know what happen. You understand that, too?”

  If he hadn’t been so damn serious he would have sounded funny. Like her father or something. I raised the glass and drained down the last of the bubbly water. “Don’t worry, Louie, she won’t get treated rough. I kind of like the kid, see?”

  “Sure, Johnny. I know. Me, I guess I worry too much. She’s here long time now. We two good friends. Old Nick, he’s good friend too. In that town back there ...” he waved a thumb over his shoulder, “... is all kinds of no-good things. Here it’s pretty good and we like it that way. You know.”

  I played with the glass a little bit. The bartender tried to fill it up but I held my hand over the top. “You know much about those bad things, Louie?”

  “Some. I don’t shop for trouble. I see who goes in and who comes back. Lotsa trade goes through this place.”

  “You know a guy named Eddie Packman?”

  At first I didn’t think he was going to answer me, then he said, “Why?”

  “He’s a wise guy.”

  “He’s a tough guy too.”

  “Not that tough. Know where I can find him?”

  “He’s gotta joint ...”

  “Nope. He’s on the town tonight.”

  “Then he’s gotta woman. You go to the Ship’n Shore. You find him there. He’s a big stuff with a woman. Always he has one two feet bigger than him. You taking Wendy?”

  “No.”

  “That’s good. You find trouble with somebody else.”

  “Yeah, Wendy suggested the same thing. Okay, Louie, thanks for the info. I’ll see you later. Take care of my girl.”

  I slid off the stool and waited for a couple to unblock the aisle. Louie’s beefy fingers snagged my arm. “Johnny ... you ever kill anybody?” His voice was almost lost in the hubbub.

  My face tightened up all by itself and my stomach felt hollow. It was something I didn’t like to answer, but the answer must have been right there because he added, “You get tough with this Packman... somebody die all right. Somebody get killed quick.”

  I nodded and he let go of my arm. “It won’t be me,” I said.

  “No, it won’t be you, Johnny.”

  The band started another noisy piece that cleared the bar of dancers long enough for me to squeeze through. I stopped by the door and lit another smoke, trying hard to unscramble the ends and put them together long enough to lead me some-wheres.

  Somebody wanted me out of the way. Somebody put a thousand bucks in the pocket of a guy who tried to do it. That somebody could be Packman, and if it was Packman he could supply a lot of answers. Like where was Vera West, for instance.

  My mind started turning over fast and I dug some change out of my pants. There was an empty row of phone booths off to one side and I grabbed the one on the end. The operator took my nickel for the unlisted number in the red light section, then rang it twice until that voice sounding like a tall, cool drink said hello.

  I said, “I’m the guy who pulled the tassel, remember?”

  Her laugh was the drink spilling over. “Yes, I certainly remember. You seemed startled.”

  “I never pulled a tassel before.”

  “What a pity.”

  “Look, you said you’d as
k around...”

  “That’s right, I did. Do you ...” she hesitated a moment, “think we can discuss the matter in say, a half hour?” In the background I heard the low murmur of voices and the chink of ice in a glass. I caught it fast.

  “A half hour’s fine. Do we talk there or some other place?”

  “Yes ... please ...”

  “Okay, I’ll be parked down the street from your place in a half hour. I’ll have the dimmers on. You’ll see me.”

  She was saying good-by when I hung up.

  It didn’t take me long to get there. Both sides of the street were lined with heaps from battered pickups to flashy convertibles, out-of-state license plates predominating. A black Buick was pulling away from the curb and I slid into the slot it left.

  I still had fifteen minutes to go, so I dragged out the butts and lit up. The second one was down to my fingers when a shaft of light hit the sidewalk as the door to the house opened. Venus in a tailored suit was framed there for a brief second before the door closed and the darkness swallowed her again.

  Her heels made little tapping sounds on the pavement as if they were keeping time with some inaudible music. I switched the dimmers on and off twice then left them on and watched her walk into their soft glow. When she was opposite the car I pushed the door open and waited.

  Then Venus with her heavenly aroma slid in next to me and plucked the butt out of my fingers for a last drag before flipping it out the window. “I feel like a schoolgirl,” she smiled.

  “Sneak out?”

  “More or less.”

  “Sorry if I interrupted something.”

  “Oh,” her eyes slanted a little and grinned at me, “it wasn’t that important. As a matter of fact, I was looking for an excuse to get away when you called.” She leaned over and turned the switch on the radio, then fiddled with the dial until the throbbing beat of a symphony filled the car. “The Philadelphia ... mind?”

  “Not at all.”

  Venus was quite a woman. Quite. Red light de luxe but loved her symphonies. She sat with her head back on the seat, her eyes half closed, breathing in every note.

  I let her listen to the last of it. Fifteen minutes of sitting there not saying a word until only the echo was left then I shut it off. She dreamed on for a minute longer before her head came up and another smile leaned in my direction. “You’re a pleasure to be with, man.”