I spun around and looked at Pat. "Tell them, friend."
"You did a pretty good job. I'm still a Captain."
"Well, maybe we'll get you raised one after this, okay, Inspector?"
He didn't say anything. He sat there glowering at me, not knowing what to think. But he was an old hand and knew when the wind was blowing bad. It showed in his eyes, only he didn't want me to see it. Finally he looked at his watch, then up to me. "We'll wait some more," he said. "It's bound to happen sometime."
"Don't hold your breath waiting," I said.
"You take care of things here, Captain," he said to Pat. "I'll want to see the report later."
"I'll have it on your desk, Inspector."
They left then, two quiet men with one idea in their minds nobody was ever going to shake loose. When they were out I said to Pat, "Why the heat?"
"Because the city is on edge, Mike. They haven't got the answers and neither have I. Somehow you always get thrown in the middle of things so that you're the one to pull the switch."
"You got everything I know."
Pat nodded sagely. "Great. Facts are one thing, but there's still that crazy mind of yours. You make the same facts come out different answers somehow." He held up his hand to shut me up. "Oh, I agree, you're cooperative and all that jazz. You lay it on the line like you're requested to do and still make it look like your own idea. But all the time you're following a strange line of reasoning nobody who looks at the facts would take. I always said you should have been a straight cop in the first place."
"I tried it a long time ago and it didn't work."
"You would have made a perfect crook. Sometimes I wonder just what the hell you really are inside. You live in a half , world of your own, never in, never out, always on the edge."
"Nuts to you, Pat. It works."
"The hard way."
Pat walked to the window, stared down into the courtyard a moment, then came back. "Kania say anything to you before he died?"
"Only how he was going to enjoy killing me."
"You didn't ask him any questions?"
"With a gun on me and him ready to shoot? There wasn't anything to ask."
"There wasn't any chance you could have taken him?"
"Not a one."
"So I'll buy it. Now, how'd he find you?"
"I'm not that hard to find. He did it twice before. He probably picked up Velda at my office and followed her here."
"She talk yet?"
"No," I told him, "but maybe she will now. Let's ask her."
The doctor had finished with Velda, assuring us both that it was only a minor concussion that should leave no after-effects, gave me a prescription for a sedative, and left us alone with her.
She smiled up at me crookedly, her face hurting with the effort.
"Think you can talk, kitten?"
"I'm all right."
"How'd that punk get in here?"
She shook her head and winced. "I don't know. I left the door unlocked thinking you'd be in shortly, then I went to the bathroom. When I went back into the living room he stepped out of the bedroom. He held the gun on me... then made me lie on the couch. I knew he was afraid I'd scream or something so he just swung the gun at me. I remember... coming awake once, then he hit me again. That's all I remember until you spoke to me."
I glanced at Pat. "That's how he did it then. He waited at the office."
"Did you know Grebb kept a man staked out there?"
"Didn't everybody? I told you to stay off my neck."
"It wasn't my idea."
"Kania must have spotted him, the same as I did. He simply waited outside or across the street until Velda came out. When she came alone he figured she could lead him to me and stayed with her. She made the job easy by leaving the door open."
"I'm sorry, Mike."
"No sweat, baby," I said. "It won't happen again."
"Mike..."
"What?"
"Mrs. Lee. She'd like to see you again."
She was bypassing Pat, but he caught it and grinned. "I haven't heard about her."
"An old lady. Sally Devon's old wardrobe mistress. She was with her when she died. She'll talk to anybody for company's sake but she might come up with something."
"Still going back thirty years?"
"Does money get old?" I asked him.
There was a jack next to the bed so I got the phone from the living room and plugged it in and laid it on the nightstand where Velda could reach it. "You stay put all day, honey. I'll check in with you every now and then and if you want anything, just call down for it. I'll leave your key with the super and he can check on anybody who comes in."
"Mike... I'll be fine. You don't have to..."
I cut her off. "Look, if I want you for anything, I'll call. There's a lot you can do without getting out of bed. Relax until I need you. Shall I get somebody to stay with you?"
"No."
"I'll be moving fast. I don't know where I'll be. But I'll check in every couple of hours. Maybe Pat here can give you a buzz too."
"Be glad to," he said. There was restraint in his voice and I knew how he was hurting. It isn't easy for a guy who loves a woman to see her going down the road with somebody else. War, love... somebody's got to be the loser.
So I covered her up and went outside with Pat. About twenty minutes later two men from his division came in, got a rundown on Kania, and started backtracking him. A contract killer wasn't notorious for leaving a trail, but Marv Kania had a record, he was known. He might have been tight-lipped about his operation, but somewhere somebody was going to know something.
One thing. That's all we needed. You could start with dead men, all right, but it won't do you any good if they only lead to other dead men. Mr. Dickerson had a played some smart cards. He had picked his people well. The ones here were clean. The ones who weren't were dead. The hoods in town could be taken in and questioned, but if they knew nothing because the orders hadn't been issued yet, they couldn't say anything. It was still a free country and you couldn't make them leave the state as long as they stayed clean. The men behind them were power who could still turn on the heat through odd but important channels so you couldn't roust them too far.
I told Pat I'd see him sometime after lunch, walked him downstairs, left a key with the super, and gave him a fin for his trouble. Pat went on downtown and I hopped a cab across town to Annette Lee's place, got the landlady to let me in, and stepped into her living room.
The old gal was still in her rocker, still going through that same perpetual rhythm, stopping only when her chair had inched against another piece of furniture. Her curtains were drawn back, letting in the early light, and she smiled a big hello when she saw me.
"How nice of you to come back, young man," she said. She held out her hand without getting up and I took it. "Sit down, please."
I tossed my hat on a table and pulled up another straight-back chair and perched on the end of it.
"Your young lady was here yesterday. We had a lovely visit. It isn't often I get company, you know."
I said, "She mentioned you wanted to see me."
"Yes." Annette Lee nodded, then leaned her head back against the chair with her eyes half shut. "We were talking. I..." She waved her hand vaguely in front of her face. "Sometimes I forget things. I'm going on ninety now. I think I've lived too long already."
"You never live too long."
"Perhaps so. I can still enjoy things. I can dream. Do you dream, Mr... ?"
"Hammer."
"Mr. Hammer. Do you dream?"
"Sometimes."
"You're not old enough to dream back like I do. It's something like being reborn. I like to dream. They were good days then. I dream about them because they're all I have to dream about. Yes, they were fine days."
"What was it you wanted to tell me, Miss, Lee? I asked her gently.
"Oh?" She thought a moment, then: "There was something. Your young lady and I talked about Sally and Sue. Ye
s, that was it. Dear Sally, she was so lovely. It was a pity she died."
"Miss Lee..."
"Yes?"
"The night she died... do you remember it well?"
"Oh yes. Oh yes indeed." Her rocking slowed momentarily so she could shift positions, then started again.
"Was she drunk, really drunk?"
"Dear me, yes. Sally drank all the time. From very early in the morning. There was nothing I could do so I tried to keep her company and talk to her. She didn't want to talk too much, you know. When she did it was drunk talk I couldn't always understand. Do you know what I mean?"
"I've heard it."
"There was that thing with the snakes you mentioned. It was rather an obsession with her."
"She was frightened of the snake?"
Annette Lee lifted her head and peered at me. "No, that was the strange thing. She wasn't afraid. It was... well, she hated it."
"Was the snake a person?"
"Excuse me?"
"Could she have been referring to a person as The Snake? Not snakes or a snake. The Snake."
The rocking stopped completely. She looked at me curiously in the semi-darkened room, her fingertip touching her lips. "So that was what she meant."
"Go on."
"No wonder I didn't understand. My goodness, I never understood in all this time. Yes, she said the snake. It was always the snake. She hated the snake, that was why she wanted to live so far away from the city. She never wanted to go back."
"Annette... who was Sue's father?"
The old girl made a face at me and raised-the thin line of her eyebrows. "Does it matter?"
"It might."
"But I'm afraid I couldn't tell you."
"Why not?"
"Simply because I don't know. Sue has Sally's maiden name, you know. She never got her father's name because she doesn't know who he is. I'm afraid Sally was... a bit promiscuous. She had many men and among them would be Sue's father. I doubt if Sally ever really knew either. A pity. Sue was such a lovely baby."
"Could it have been Blackie Conley?"
For the first time Annette Lee giggled. "Dear no. Not him. Never Blackie."
"Why?"
"Simply because he wasn't capable. I think that was one of the reasons Blackie was so... so frustrated. He did like the ladies, you know. He slept with one after the other. He even married two of them but it never worked out. He always wanted an heir but he wasn't capable. Why... the boys used to kid him about it."
Her feet pushed harder until she had to edge the chair away from the wall so that she faced me more directly. "Do you ever remember Bud Packer?"
"Just the name."
"Bud was... joshing him one day about his... impotence and Blackie shot him. You know where. I think Blackie did time for that but I don't rightly remember. No, Blackie was not Sue's father by any means. Besides, you're forgetting one big thing.
I let her say it.
"Blackie's been gone... for years. Long before Sue was born. Blackie is dead somewhere."
She put her head back and closed her eyes. I said, "Tired?"
"No, just thinking. Daydreaming."
"How about this angle... could Sim Torrence have been the father?"
Her giggle broke into a soft cackle only the old can make. "Sim Torrence? I'm afraid not. Sue was born before they were married."
"He could still be the father."
"You don't understand, Mr..."
"Hammer."
"Mr. Hammer. You see, I was with Sally always before. I knew the many faces she was with. I know who she slept with and none of them were Sim Torrence. It wasn't until after the baby was born that they were married when he took her in and provided for them." The flat laugh came out again. "Those two could never have a baby of their own though."
"Why not?"
"Because she and Sim never slept together. After the baby was born Sally never let a man near her. She underwent a change. All she thought of was the baby, making plans for her, hoping for her to grow up and be somebody. You know, I hate to give away women-secrets, but Sally deliberately cultivated Sim Torrence. They knew each other for some time earlier. Some court case. She managed to meet him somehow and I remember them going out for a couple of weeks before she brought him to our apartment and told me they were going to get married."
"Did Torrence take it well?"
"How does any man take it who is going to lose his bachelorhood?" She smiled knowingly. "He was rather shaken. Almost embarrassed. But he did provide well for Sally and Sue. They had a simple ceremony and moved into his town house."
"Were you with them?"
"Oh yes. Sally wouldn't leave me. Why, I was the only one who could take care of her and the baby. She wasn't very domestic, you know. She wasn't supposed to be. Yes, those were different women then. Showgirls. They had to be pampered."
"Why wouldn't she let Torrence near her in bed?"
"Does it sound strange that a woman who was a... a whore would be afraid of sex?"
I shook my head. "Most of them are frigid anyway," I said bluntly.
"So true, so true. Well, that was Sally. Frigid. Having the baby scared her. Even having a man scared her."
"Was she scared of Torrence?"
"Of every man, Mr... ," and this time she remembered my name and smiled, "... Hammer. Yes, Sim Torrence scared her but I think he understood. He let her stay at that place in the country. He came up on occasions and it was very strained but he was very understanding about it too. Of course, like all men, he could bury himself in his work. That was his real wife, his work."
"Miss Lee... the last time I was here we talked about Blackie Conley, remember?"
"I remember."
"You said you knew about the plans he made for that robbery he and Sonny Motley were involved in. What were they?"
She stopped rocking, her face curious again. "Are you looking for the money?"
"I'm a cop, Miss Lee. I'm looking for a killer, for the money... for anything that will help keep trouble from Sue."
"Sue? But that was before she was born."
"It can come back to hurt her. Now what did you hear?"
She nodded, pressing her lips together, her hands grasping the arms of the rockers. "Do you really think... ?"
"It might help."
"I see." She paused, thought a moment, then said, "You know that Sonny really didn't plan the robbery. It was his gang, but he didn't plan it. They were... acting for someone."
"I know about that."
"Blackie had instructions to find a place where they were going to hide out. He was told where to go and how to do it. I remember because I listened to the call." She chuckled at the thought. "I never did like Blackie. He was at Sally's place when he took the call. In fact, that was where they did all their planning, at Sally's apartment. Sonny was going with her then when she wasn't sneaking off with Blackie. "
"I see."
"Really," she told me, "I wasn't supposed to know about these things. I was always in the other room out of sight, but I was worried about Sally and tried to find out what was going on. I listened in and they didn't know it."
"None of this came out at the trial," I reminded her.
"Nor was it about to, young man. I didn't want to involve Sally any more than she was. She did appear in court, you know."
"Briefly. She wasn't implicated. She was treated as an innocent victim."
Those watery old eyes found mine and laughed in their depths. "No, Sally wasn't so innocent. She knew everything that went on. Sally's pose was very deliberate. Very deliberate. She was a better actress than anyone imagined."
Annette Lee leaned forward like some old conspirator. "Now that it can't hurt her, let me tell you something. It was through dear Sally that this robbery came about. All arrangements, all contacts were made through her. Sonny was quite a man in those days and ran a sizable operation. But it was through Sally Devon that another party interested Sonny in that robbery. No, Sally was hardly the innocent
victim."
I didn't let her see me take it in. I passed it off quickly to get her back on the track again, but now the angles were starting to show. I said, "When Blackie Conley got this call... what happened?"
Jerked suddenly from one train of thought, she sat back frowning. "Oh... Blackie... well, I heard this voice..."
"A man?"
"Yes. He told Blackie to see a man in a certain real estate agency, one that could be trusted. He gave him the phone number."
I added, "And Blackie arranged to rent a house in the Catskills?"
"That's right. He made the call right then and said he'd be in the next day." She, opened her eyes again, now her fingers tapping a silent tune on the chair. "But then he made another call to Howie Green."
"Who?"
"Howie Green. He was a bootlegger, dearie, but he owned properties here in the city. He invested his money wisely, Howie did, and always had something to show for it. Howie was as crooked as they come, but smarter than most of them. One of Howie's enterprises was a real estate agency that used to be someplace on Broadway. Oh yes, Howie was a big man, but he owed Blackie Conley a favor. Blackie killed a man for Howie and held it over his head. He told Howie he wanted a place to hole up in somewhere away from the city and to pick it out."
"Where was it, Annette?"
"I don't know, young man. Howie merely said he'd do it for him. That was all. I suppose Blackie took care of it later. However, it's all over now. Howie Green's dead too. He died in an accident not long afterward."
"Before the robbery?"
"I really don't remember that."
I reached for my hat and stood up. "You've been a great help, Annette."
"Have I really?"
I nodded.
"Will Sue be... all right?"
"I'm sure she will."
"Someday," she asked me, "will you bring her to me? I would like to see her again."
"We'll make a point of it."
"Good-by then. It was nice of you to come over."
"My pleasure, Miss Lee."
At two o'clock I contacted Pat and made a date to meet him at his office. He didn't like the idea because he knew Grebb would want to sit in on the conversation but thought he could arrange it so we could be alone.
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