The Deep

by Mickey Spillane

  “No,” I said. “Not you. I don’t think you’d bother when you have your own boys handy.” I glanced over at Benny. “Now you take buddy Mattick there, he might think of it.”

  Benny jerked and looked about him almost wildly.

  “But I don’t think he did either. He knows what would happen. I’m no slob to leave myself uncovered. If they got me then Benny would be the first to go afterwards and he knows it. In fact, it would do Benny good to make sure I stay alive.”

  Hugh’s eyes squinted and searched my face. He put down his drink and leaned across the table. “Tell me, Deep ... where did you come from?”

  “Far away from you, Councilman.”

  “What are you there?”

  It seemed that the whole room was quiet when it really wasn’t. Benny was looking at me and beside me, Helen was motionless, watching me, waiting.

  I grinned. “Big.”

  “So big that if you get killed your troops’ll come in shooting, is that it?”

  Helen’s hand on my arm tightened involuntarily. “That, friend,” I said, “is exactly it. This is my own private pet project, but they’re all standing by in case I get in a bind.” I let out a sharp laugh as I watched his face. He knew it wasn’t a bluff. He knew what I said would happen and he let it roll around in his mind until he had the pieces in place.

  “You don’t have gang wars any more, Deep.”

  “No?”

  Hugh’s mouth tightened into a lipless snarl. “Let me tell you something, Deep... you know what happened to Dutch Schultz? Sure you do. The mob hit him because he endangered their operation. If they hadn’t, the cops would have gone all out to wipe out the mob. It’s still like that, see? Maybe where you come from they don’t play like that, but if you stick your neck out and get it chopped off there’s going to be a lot of organizational work done on your bunch from both ends of the stick. Brother, you’re not that big. You don’t take cops and ...” he paused, reaching for the word, then, “... the rest without losing. Believe me, if you were that big, Deep, I would have heard about you. Everybody would have heard about you. You don’t stay hidden and stay that big. Nobody does.”

  I let him finish, then added, “Let’s say nobody else. Just me. I’m the exception.”

  It was my tone that stopped him. His eyes couldn’t hold on my face any longer and to take the edge off he reached for his drink. Benny sat there with the cords in his neck showing, the hate so fierce inside him you could almost smell it.

  “And you’re wrong, Hugh. If I get hit, you’ll fall. All the way. You’ll take the big six-foot fall, you know what I mean?”

  He finished his drink and signaled for another. When it came, he tasted it, put it down and said, “You could be worse than Bennett.”

  “What did he have on you, Councilman?”

  “Why, nothing. Nothing at all.”

  I laughed again, softly. “I’m going to find out, buddy. You see, Bennett didn’t die for nothing. He was a threat. He had a lot of people by the throat and every one of them was the wrong kind to have. They couldn’t move in because what he had was too big to buck, but one day he got to be too big of a threat and somebody took the chance anyway and knocked him off. Trouble was, whatever Bennett held over his head the killer didn’t get and laying around someplace is a large package of trouble.”

  “You think so?” Peddle said noncommittally.

  I nodded gravely and grinned. “I think so.”

  “But if you knew you’d have it now and be making a deal.”

  “Maybe. But I know this, Councilman. I’m going to find it.”

  “Oh?”

  “That’s right. You know why? Because nobody ever knew Bennett like I knew him. For me only he left a clue someplace ... somewhere he’d be certain I’d come across it and could take up where he left off just like we said we’d do twenty-five years ago. Pretty soon now I’m going to remember what that vital piece of information was and then I’ll have it and you guys’ll be sweating your piles out. Meanwhile every one of you are going to stand pat. You’re going to be hurting like crazy and the first one out of line gets shot a little bit. You heard what happened in Bimmy’s so if you think I won’t throw a slug into somebody you’re nuts, pal, plain nuts.”

  Hugh’s voice had gone hoarse. “What do you want from me?”

  I stood up and pulled Helen’s chair back. “Bennett’s killer,” I said. “Maybe you can help find him. You’re the big political wheel with a finger in every pie. Thanks for the coffee.”

  When we walked away I could feel their eyes follow me. As we neared the door I saw Hugh’s two gunbearers. They were watching me too, so I nodded politely and since we were more or less all in the same game and this wasn’t the time or place for their special services, they nodded back knowing we both understood the situation like old pros and there were no hard feelings.

  Before we left I called Augie. Cat had phoned in a few minutes earlier and said Dixie was in his room at the Merced and he’d stick with him until I got there. So far Augie hadn’t come up with anything but was still looking. I told him to keep at it until we were sure the place was clean and stay there until I got in.

  It was difficult to know what Helen was thinking. The disapproval of anything I did was well hidden; the concern I knew she felt didn’t show at all. It was as if she were lost in the middle of some remote problem, studying it for a way out. She took my arm, held herself close to me and when I glanced at her, smiled. I squeezed her arm under mine, waved a taxi over and told him to take us to the Merced.

  Dixie was a pale lump stretched out on the couch. His mouth was still a swollen mass and all that seemed alive were his eyes. He was in slacks and a T-shirt, his eyes red-rimmed and wild-looking, yet showing the wily cunning of a mainliner with a fresh hole. He lay there, his fingers working as if they were caressing the haft of a shiv and he divided each moment between Cat and me, thinking who he wanted to kill first.

  I said, “You want to talk, Dixie?”

  “Hop it.”

  “How would you like for me to throw a gag in your mouth and shackle you to a water pipe up here for three-four days? You think I won’t, then button up. Whatever I want to know you’ll tell me, maybe even tomorrow.”

  The sweat started on his lip and his mouth seemed to quiver with the thought.

  “How often you shooting up now, kiddo? Every three hours?” I picked his arm up and looked at it. He was pin-cushioned all the way up on both arms to actual scarification and probably popped in his legs now. “Think you can take a twenty-four hour dry run?”

  His head rolled on the cushion and he stared at me. “I don’t know nothin’.” His words came out almost muffled by his swollen mouth.

  “Let’s find out.”

  Dixie moved his bony shoulders in a shrug. “So go ahead, big man,” he said. “Take over.”

  “Bennett,” I said.

  “What about him? You think I bumped him, you’re nuts. The cops already worked me over good. They tried to nail me. Batten got me clear.”

  “Not with me he didn’t.”

  Something in my voice got to Dixie. He jerked upright and swung his feet to the floor and glared at me. “You lookit, Deep, I ...”

  “Shut up, Dixie. You just answer me.”

  He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and nodded.

  “The night Bennett was killed you were down at the liquor store picking up a case of booze, right?”

  “Scotch,” he nodded.

  “Why? Bennett wasn’t a big drinker.”

  “He had a party coming on, that’s why!”

  “When?”

  “How would I know? He didn’t tell me that. He was all hopped up about something, that’s all I know.”

  “Okay, so you went down and got the Scotch. Keep going.”

  Dixie glanced nervously from Cat to me and shook his head. He shrugged again and wiped at his mouth. “What’s to tell? So he calls up and says to bring up a case of rye too.”
<
br />   “Which you did,” I reminded him, “in time to find his body.”

  He coughed, then croaked, “I didn’t bump him. I was there all the time! The guy in the store, he ...”

  “I know what he said. He covered it okay. Good alibi. He’s a good citizen with nothing down on him. Votes regular, sits jury duty, attends P.T.A. So you’re clean.”

  “Well what do ya want with me? Jeez, I didn’t .. ”

  “Buddy,” I told him, “if it were you who hit Bennett I would’ve read the signs. So would everybody else.”

  His eyes were scared stiff now. He didn’t see what I was driving at but knew something was coming and all he wanted was out.

  I said, “How long were you in the liquor store, Dixie?”

  He got it out without thinking first. “Hell, two hours. Sure, all that time! The guy can tell ya that. Hell, we watched TV and chewed it that long. I’m clean. Deep, you can’t ...”

  “That’s a long time to pick up two cases of liquor, kid. Ten minutes to the store either way, two hours there ... that makes almost two and a half hours away from the house. A pretty long time to run an errand. Bennett didn’t go for that kind of crap. When he said to do something he meant like now.”

  Dixie’s lips were too dry to lick. “What you gettin’ at?”

  “Easy, kid. You could have been part of a setup. The word goes out to stay clear of Bennett’s place during a certain time ... or if you get clear to make a call to let somebody know ... and then blooie, Bennett catches it and you’re clean. Almost.”

  He didn’t like that last word.

  “The cops figure like that and tie it in and you’ll be doing the turkey act downtown. Cold turkey. Think you could take it?”

  “Deep ... jeez! Look, you know I wouldn’t ... hell, Bennett and me, we was friends. You know, friends!” He was perched on the very edge of the bed shaking like a scared bird.

  “Why’d you stay away so long, Dixie?”

  He didn’t try to lie out of it. He knew it wouldn’t have gone over so he simply made a gesture with his shoulders and looked back up at me.

  “I needed a blast, that’s why! You know Bennett. He wouldn’t let nobody near him if they was carrying a package. I couldn’t stash nothing in his place either. I tried it once and that damned dummy housekeeper found it and Bennett beat hell outa me for figuring I could pull it off. He kept me up there so long I was going nuts. I hadda blast, so when he told me to get down for the booze I took off. I didn’t have no stuff up here and called in for it from the liquor store. That punky stiff who brought the stuff took all that time to get over there. I damned near died. That’s why I had to sit and watch TV. The guy in the store thought I just had a cold and fed me hot lemonade and aspirin and wouldn’t let me go outside until I felt better. Hell, I was all over sweat and running off and when that stiff waltzes in with the junk I could hardly hold it. I let off in the men’s room, gave the hype and the other stuff back to the stiff and he took off. So I felt better and that jerk thought it was the lemonade and the aspirins. He closed up shop and even helped me back to the apartment.”

  Dixie’s face twisted in a grimace, not knowing what I’d make of it. “That all?”

  “Sure. The cops come, they shook me down, but by then I called Batten and we got squared away.”

  “With your record it’s a wonder they didn’t hold you over.”

  “I was lucky. Wilse got there fast. Some strings got pulled someplace maybe. It happened faster than I thought it would. I was pretty damned lucky.”

  “See if it holds.”

  “What do ya want, Deep? I told ya, I didn’t have nothin’ to do with it!”

  “There’s something that’s been bothering me.”

  “Well, say it.”

  “When I came in the club it was you and Benny up there. He was reaching for the catbird seat. Where did you come in?”

  The tension was too much for him. He took a deep breath, shuddered and flopped back on the couch. “I was backin’ him,” he said.

  “He need it?”

  “Benny don’t take chances.”

  “So you and the shiv go along. It was like with you and Bennett.”

  “Why not?”

  “How come Benny-from-Brooklyn wanted to manage?”

  “He never told me nothin’ and I didn’t ask. With me it’s for loot and nothin’ else.”

  I glanced over my shoulder. “Cat?”

  Cat shook his head. “That’s the way I got it too, Deep.”

  “Benny ever say anything to you?”

  Cat’s grin was small and crooked. “Who’s gonna tell me anything? I only went in to get outa the rain. If it wasn’t that I carried the old brand the new bunch wouldn’t let me in the cellar.”

  I stood up and grinned down at Dixie. His eyes watched me closely, his hopped-up mind trying to pin all the angles down. I said, “One more thing. I shot up a couple of the boys in Bimmy’s. They went to a Doc. Who?”

  Dixie didn’t worry it out any. “Halpern. John Halpern. Got a drugstore on Amsterdam. He got run outa the union five years ago.”

  Cat said, “I know him. He handles all the hot stuff for the boys.”

  “Okay, Dixie, play it cool. Keep your mouth shut and if you get any big ideas I want to be the first to know.”

  “Who thinks?”

  “You better start. I want to know who killed Bennett.”

  He moved his eyes again, swiped at his mouth and watched us blankly as we went out.

  Downstairs Helen spoke for the first time, tiny lines of curiosity tugging at the comers of her eyes. “You ask funny questions, Deep.”

  “It’s a funny business, Helen.”

  Cat said, “What now? It’s almost twelve.”

  “Nothing we can do now,” I told him. “Let’s drop Helen off and hit it. You want to go uptown, Irish?”

  “I’ll take a cab.”

  “What about tomorrow?”

  “In the morning I’ll have to make arrangements to see that ... Tally’s taken care of.” I felt her fingers tighten on my arm. Her face pressed against my shoulder suddenly. “The bastards. Oh, the dirty bastards!” she said softly.

  “Don’t sweat it, Helen. I’ll find out who did it.”

  She shook the hair away from her face and looked at me. Her eyes were wet, her lower lip between her teeth. “Not you, Deep. Please don’t find anybody.”

  Then her mouth was a hot thing again, crying unintelligibly against my lips, her hands cradling my face with a wild urgency. I held her a moment, then forced her away gently. “Go home,” I said. “There’s always tomorrow.”

  She smiled, nodded and said, “Tomorrow.” She picked a folded letter from her pocketbook, jotted down a number on the comer of it, tore it off and handed it to me. “Call me,” she said, her voice husky.

  I whistled a cab over, opened the door for her and waved her off.

  On the curb Cat chuckled, “You got yourself a big one, Deep. She’s all gone over you.”

  I liked the idea.

  “It gets more like the old days every minute, don’t it?

  For a second I remembered some of those old days and shook my head. “I hope not. Come on, let’s go down the comer and find another cab.”

  You get a feeling sometimes that things aren’t just right. It’s like little things crawling up your back and across your scalp. It happens when you get to be a real pro in the game and can read all the signs and smell all the smells. It’s a little thing that seeps across space and barely touches you, if it does at all, but that peculiar sense you’ve developed from running the back alleys and rooftops and living past the slugs and razor-edged blades ... it tells you that something is out of joint and you only have a small time to find out what it is.

  Cat knew it too. He knew it the second he got out of the cab and I saw him go up on his toes and make both ends of the street with an unobtrusive glance. I paid the cabbie off, tipped him and when I put my change back I did it neatly so that when my
hand came away it had the .38 in it.

  We didn’t need any signals at all. Long ago it had been a well practiced maneuver with Cat and me and the motions came naturally. He laid back and to the left, planning every move the second something broke, keeping a split between us so we couldn’t be taken out by any one person. He knew I had the rod in my fist and didn’t object when I went ahead.

  I opened the door, walked in normally and knew on the first step inside what was coming. I yelled, “Watch it, Cat!” and dove for the floor as a red wink flashed from the door to the side and with a quiet snap a bullet slammed into the wall over my head.

  The .38 in my hand bucked twice before the other silenced rod went off again. This time it went off into the floor and with a harsh choking sob a body followed it down.

  It took a few seconds for the echoes of the gun to diminish. As the waves of sound receded I heard feet hammering inside, a window smashing open, and I yelled, “The back, Cat ... there’s one going for the back!”

  I was taking a chance but I figured there wouldn’t be more than two. I hopped over the body on the floor, crouched and ran inside and felt my way through the rooms, trying to recall the layout of furniture. I made it to the back and saw the gray opening of the window pale against the black of the night beyond it.

  There was no way for Cat to cover the exit except by going all the way around the comer and if he ran his lungs probably wouldn’t hold up. I got through the window, jumped the eight feet to the pavement and waited until I had the layout straight. Someplace not too far off somebody kicked a can and rattled it across the concrete.

  I didn’t wait then. I jumped the fence in back, landed in another yard spotted with crates and strange garbage forms, picked my way around it and reached the seven-foot fence at the other end. If the yards hadn’t changed any there was an alley between Glover’s and Constantino’s only now it was Mort’s Dry Cleaning and Alverez the Grocer. That opening to the street was where the other one was going and if he made it he had it all the way.

  Damn.

  I didn’t know the details of the route any more. Garbage piles change in twenty-five years. People nailed up the boards we had deliberately loosened and rearranged the backyard puzzle until it was almost a maddening maze. But if the other guy didn’t know it either the edge was the same. I went up and over three more, felt my clothes tear twice and the second time a nail ripped a gouge along my calf.