The Death Dealers

by Mickey Spillane

  “It fits then,” I told him. “Malcolm Turos’ last project was centered in Brazil. He could have picked it up there.”

  “No doubt. Incidentally, I saw the report on the other two bodies. The guy who posed as a TV man was Parnell Rath. Two convictions for manslaughter and suspected in five homicides. He only got out of the pen three weeks ago. The one on the roof was a goofy guy he palled around with. They checked out the room Rath lived in and found a thousand bucks in small bills stashed under the window sill. Nobody’s talking on this and don’t you do either.”

  “You know me.”

  “Sure, that’s what I’m afraid of. You pulled a cutie by locating Turos’ photo. It eases some of the pressure on our relationship, but I wouldn’t push too hard if I were you.”

  “I have no choice.”

  “Then a word to the wise ... nobody, but nobody, is going to get near Teish again, that’s how well they have him covered.”

  I laughed at him and said, “Want to bet?” and hung up while he was still firing a question at me. One of his old axioms was that the aggressor always had the advantage. I said so long to Harry, ignoring his wistful expression and went back to the elevator.

  Lily Tornay’s room was three floors below. I got out there, rapped on her door and identified myself when she asked who it was. This time she didn’t bother hiding a gun under a towel. She couldn’t have. It was all she had on. Her hair was wet and her neck and shoulders pink from the shower and she smelled deliciously soapy. “I’ll wait outside if you want me to.”

  “Don’t be funny,” she snapped, not liking the grin I was giving her.

  I closed the door and stepped inside. Like all dames she couldn’t keep a hotel room neat to save her hide. Clothes were scattered all over the place and her Beretta was lying right in the middle of the pillow. At the foot of the bed she had a suitcase open and partially packed. “Going someplace?”

  “I have orders to return. Since your latest escapade there seems little need for me to remain here.”

  “News travels fast.”

  She came over with a drink and handed it to me, the ice clinking against the glass. “My time here wasn’t exactly wasted. I had an opportunity to inquire further into your background.”

  “And what did you find out?”

  “The probable answers to several puzzling questions Interpol has fretted over. Your Martin Grady has facets to his organizations we didn’t realize.”

  I didn’t commit myself with any answer at all.

  She took a sip of her drink and put it down beside her. “I do have one thing you might be interested in hearing.”

  “Oh?”

  “We have two men in Selachin. A few hours ago they found the body of a man who was a local explosives expert. He had been shot in the head with a .38-caliber bullet of American origin. Besides Tedesco there has been another American operating in that area and he is suspected of the killing.”

  I still didn’t say anything.

  “Peter Moore, his name is,” she continued. “If the dead man started the landslide that killed the technicians your country had there, he revenged them well.”

  “Honey,” I said slowly, “did it ever occur to you that maybe the Soviets knocked him off so he couldn’t talk? Thirty-eights aren’t hard to come by and they’d have a lovely excuse for murder if they knew Pete was stalking them as well and looking for Tedesco.”

  Lily picked up the glass again, studied it, then took another small sip. “Possibly. But I think we’ll know for sure before long.”

  My hand froze around the glass halfway to my mouth. “Why?”

  She smiled enigmatically like the Mona Lisa. “Because our people have located Tedesco’s hiding place and are laying a trap for the other one.”

  “Damn, he’s alive!”

  “It seems that way.”

  I couldn’t stop the pure feeling of pleasure that went through me. My mouth stretched in a grin and I started to laugh. It took a good thirty seconds before I could stop.

  “Does it seem that funny?” she asked me.

  “Hell yes, sweetie. Those guys can make any trap backfire your boys try to set.”

  “Not when those hill people of Selachin are helping them,” she added tartly.

  I eased the glass down and left it there. “Honey, do you know what will happen if our men get picked up?”

  “Certainly. There will be a trial and ...”

  “Nuts. They’ll catch it on the spot. They’ll subject them to local law and neither Interpol nor anybody else can do anything about it!”

  “They put themselves in that position,” she said.

  Quietly, I said, “Did they?” then walked to the bed. I began to throw her stuff into the suitcase until it was filled, dumped the shells out of the Beretta so she couldn’t object and snapped the bag shut.

  “What are you doing?”

  I reached out and stripped the towel off her with one yank and shoved her down on the bed with a scream stifled in her throat. She was all lovely and white and naked and too damn scared to even try to cover it up, her blond hair tumbling out on the covers like spilled vanilla ice cream. “You’re not going anywhere for a while,” I said.

  “Damn you! If you think ...”

  “Remember what I told you might happen, kid?” I gave her the nastiest grin I had and she knew what I was talking about. She reached over, grabbed the spread, and flipped it on top of herself, for the first time letting a blush color her face. “Behave yourself and maybe I’ll let you have your clothes back. In the meantime you stay put. I might still be able to use you.”

  Her voice was almost plaintive. “H-how?”

  “Not like you’re thinking, baby,” I said.

  Downstairs I checked her bag under my own name, picked up the ticket and left. Time was getting short before I called on Vey Locca and there was somebody I wanted to see first.

  The big doorman greeted me with a wink and after a quick look up and down the street joined me in the lobby of the building. Rondine and my friend were still upstairs and so far he hadn’t seen the man he was watching for. When I showed him Turos’ photo he made an immediate identification, fixed the face in his mind and went back to the sidewalk.

  I called upstairs on the house phone and told them I’d be right there, got in the automatic elevator and punched the button for Rondine’s floor. Lennie Byrnes coded me through the door first before he opened it and was putting away a snub-nosed .38 as I came in.

  The first thing he said was, “Talbot called Miss Caine with a report. You sure have all the luck.”

  “I hope some of it rubs off on Tedesco and Moore. Where’s Rondine?”

  “Rondine? Oh ... Miss Caine. Getting dressed.”

  “Any action at all?”

  “Nothing.”

  I handed him the Turos photo to study, then put it back in my pocket. “If he knows he’s identifiable by face he’ll disguise himself. The only thing he can’t change is his voice,” I said. “You get through to Virgil Adams and see if our informants have come up with anything. We’re paying ten grand for any lead and that kind of money will buy a lot of poking around.” I gave him my approximate schedule, made sure he wasn’t to move alone if Turos was spotted and when he went to the phone I walked over to the bedroom door and pushed it open.

  She smiled at me in the mirror, a funny little smile that meant a lot of things, then swung around on the bench in front of the vanity dresser and stood up, her arms reaching out for me. The soft song of London in her voice was deepthroated and full of that wild excitement that put me on edge and with the light behind her, throwing a halo around her hair, it was like wiping out twenty years and she was her older sister, the real Rondine who had tried to kill me even while she loved me. I had to wipe the memory away fast, because even though some crazy habit made me call her Rondine too, this love was genuine and honest, full of the giving that only that kind of love could bring.

  I took her in my arms and touched the wetne
ss of her lips, felt her mouth open under mine until we satisfied each other with our nearness, then I held her off and looked at her with complete satisfaction. There was still a red welt around her throat that makeup couldn’t hide and when I touched it she winced and bit her lip.

  “You all right?”

  “A little sore, that’s all.” Her eyes searched mine carefully, then: “I had a report on the reception.... Will you answer me something truthfully?” This time there was a careful note in her voice and I frowned at her.

  “Don’t push me, kid.”

  “I won’t.”

  “Then ask.”

  “Mere is some speculation that the attempt on Teish El Abin’s life could have been set up by your organization. Teish was impressed by your performance and has asked that you be his guest at the party being given for him by your government. Looking at it sidewise, and knowing the Grady methods, they consider this a strong possibility.”

  I dropped my hands and felt my lips pull tight across my teeth. “Three people were knocked off on that deal, sugar.”

  “True, and one of those killers escaped. You were there. People like that can be wasted if the results were worth it.”

  “You know damn well we don’t operate like that!”

  “I just want to hear you say it.”

  I nodded and tried to loosen myself up. It wasn’t easy at all. “Okay, I’m saying it. I spotted the kink in that action and straightened it out. It was on the square.”

  She saw what had happened to me and reached for my hand. “I’m sorry, Tiger. I had to ask. It’s my job too.”

  The tenseness seeped out of my shoulders and I let her have the smile back. “Forget it. My luck was running strong. You still supposed to stay on my tail?”

  “I’d like to, but is it worth trying?”

  “None of you can make it if I don’t want you to.”

  “Then you tell me what to do.”

  “Are you going to that party?”

  “Certainly, since you’ll be invited.”

  “All right, but lay off me. Stick close to Vey Locca especially when she’s in conversation with Teish or Sarim Shey.”

  “They don’t talk to each other in English,” she said.

  “Don’t worry about it. I’ll take care of that.”

  “And what will you be doing?”

  I kissed the tip of her nose and said, “Does Macy’s tell Gimbel’s? I’ll clue you in later.”

  “But ...”

  “You stay on your toes. I’m going to take Lennie off you, so have one of your own people give you cover in case Turos tries for you again. Just don’t be alone, got that?”

  Rondine nodded seriously. She was well trained and knew the implication of what I was saying. “Very well, my Tiger.” Her hand tightened around my fingers. “Do I have to be worried about you?”

  “If you do, you’ll be the only one. When is the party?”

  “Tomorrow night at the Stacy.”

  “I didn’t get any invitation yet.”

  “You will,” she told me impishly. “It will probably come through Vey Locca when you see her tonight.”

  Softly I said, “Damn!” Then, “Who was the lip reader in that room?”

  “One of our embassy people behind a panel.” She made a puckish mouth at me and added, “That’s what I meant about being worried about you.”

  I shrugged, tilted her chin up with my hand, and said, “When things happen in the line of duty...”

  “Duty be damned,” she interrupted with laugh. I kissed her again and gave her a shove back toward the vanity to finish dressing and went out to Lennie.

  He had completed his call to Newark and Virgil Adams had to admit a negative on Malcolm Turos. The guy had covered himself well and wasn’t exposing his identity in any fashion. Men had been posted around the Russian-speaking sections of the city, the opera house and the three Broadway musicals were staked out, the specialty food houses alerted and word well spread about the price on his head. If he showed at all he was going to be nailed, but I wasn’t putting too much hope on that end. That kind of net wouldn’t have nailed me either. I didn’t expect Turos to fall into it.

  Ernie Bentley was still in his lab when I called and when I verified myself with our code he knew something was coming up. His field work was confined to the loft where he worked, but it was his world and he was an expert in it.

  I said, “How small can you make a tape recorder?”

  “How small do you need it?”

  “Woman’s compact?”

  “Hell, Tiger, I have one in stock.”

  “Send it over to my hotel by messenger right now. Then get hold of Louis Wickhoff who does the hiring at the Stacy and arrange for him to put Lennie Byrnes on as a waiter. I want him to cover the suites Teish and Sarim Shey are using.”

  “Come off it, they’re using regular agents on that one.”

  “They make sloppy waiters.”

  “You figure it out then.”

  “I’ll call little Harry and have him make up some of that native slop they eat in Selachin and have him prompt Lennie on how to serve it. They have a regular ritual for that stuff and those agents won’t want to expose themselves by their ignorance. One of them may go along with him into the suite, but I don’t care. Have him fixed with a recorder too. Anything we pick up Harry can translate for us later, but just get Lennie in there. Louis will make him up an identity card and you fix him with the union bit. Backdate his employment for a year or so. A little loot in the right hands can kill any beefs.”

  “Okay, don’t tell me my business.”

  “Just a gentle reminder. You’re glued to a microscope so much I’m afraid you’ll forget things.”

  “Yeah, picture that with you around.”

  I hung up, dialed Jack Brant, got him to call Harry on the phone and put the situation to him. He knew just what I wanted and knew the impression it would make, but it was going to take him awhile to get the necessary ingredients together.

  Before I put the phone back he said, “Mr. Tiger, sir ... I have been thinking.”

  “What is it, kid?”

  “When I left the hotel ... as I was getting into the elevator, I see a man knock on my door and try the knob. I do not know anybody, so why should that be? Did you send someone?”

  I felt the ice again. “What did he look like?”

  “Oh, nothing, I guess. Plain man in a suit.”

  I tried not to let him know the fear in my voice. “Probably trying the wrong room. See you later.”

  Lennie was watching me carefully. “What goes, Tiger?”

  I turned around and picked up my hat. “Make sure somebody’s with her—” I nodded toward the bedroom—“before you leave. Then check with Ernie. You know what to do?”

  “I got the picture, but what’s this angle?”

  “When I left the Stacy I think I was followed. Damn, what a jerk I can be sometimes!”

  The doorman whistled me up a cab and I climbed in, telling him to make it fast over to the Taft. He fought the traffic and earned his five bucks and I took the elevator up to Lily Tornay’s room cursing the stops on the way. When I got out the door shut behind me and I ran down the corridor, around the bend and stopped in front of her door. Inside, the TV was rattling off a comedy program and I turned the knob. The door wasn’t locked ... it swung open and I went in fast with the .45 in my hand remembering every detail of where somebody could be waiting for me and ready to take a big one myself if I could blast just a single slug back.

  I didn’t have to. Except for Lily Tornay and the shadow people on the TV tube, the room was empty. And Lily was dead.

  The nylon cording had been tied in the same fashion, but she hadn’t been lucky enough to be jammed in a position that didn’t allow her to move the way Rondine had. She was sprawled on the floor, hands and feet twisted up behind her back and the noose around her throat had been jerked taut by her frantic thrashings to free herself. Her nakedness was almost obs
cene now, her face mottled and her blond beauty gone.

  Lying beside her was the note, the paperweight that held it down, her Beretta, and the message was simple. All it said was, A Gift for a Gift, Tiger Mann.

  And it was me. I did it to her. I didn’t have to be a wise guy. I could have let her clear out and she’d be alive. She passed Teddy’s Skyline signal on to me and I let her die for it.

  Well, she was going to have company. Soon.

  I picked up the note, burned it and heeled the ashes into the rug. When I left I wiped the knob, walked down two flights before I picked up the elevator again and got back on the street. Deliberately, I left myself wide open for a tail, hoping Turos would make the mistake and try it. There wasn’t a single device I didn’t use to spot anyone following me, but after a few blocks I knew it wasn’t any use. I just didn’t have that feeling. If he had been there I would have known it.

  Malcolm Turos was wasting his time. He had other things in mind and I would come when he was ready. On Broadway I called Charlie Corbinet and told him where to find Lily. Since she was connected with the over-all affair they’d keep it quiet until it was finished, but I was going to have some talking to do later. I could alibi myself out of it all right after the time of death was established but I didn’t want any interference. Charlie said he’d go as far as he could, but not to expect any miracles.

  That was enough. Time was running out fast and I was running with it. I went back to my hotel, showered and changed, told the desk clerk that any packages delivered to me were to be kept in the hotel safe and started walking across town to the Stacy.

  They were waiting for me at the desk when I asked for Vey Locca, two more of the young ones with the stamp of the Washington agency on their faces. They were smiling and bright, except for their eyes, and there I could see the training they had and the mark of the orders they received. A little puzzle was there because they knew me too and couldn’t figure how I fitted in at all.

  My admittance was by personal invitation and they meant to see that I kept it, and that only, and were very happy to show me to Vey’s room. There were more of them by every door and exit, with several carefully spotted in strategic places so that nothing went unobserved.