The Tough Guys

by Mickey Spillane

  “No killing, Petey. Don’t involve yourself.”

  “Chuck was my friend.”

  “So we’ll stick them. Only don’t let’s take a fall, oke?”

  “You’re calling it, Cat.”

  I went over to Gage and stood there looking at him for a minute. I said to Petey, “You know a place where we can put this one? Some place where he can’t be heard and nobody can hear him scream?”

  “There’s the smokehouse behind your place, remember?”

  Remember? Damn right I remembered. I had taken enough beatings from Miles there often enough when Rudy and Teddy had made me take lumps.

  “That should do it.”

  Popeye knew what I was getting at. He could see a couple of days going by without pumping a few shots of the big H into his veins and knew what would happen. His mouth worked until the words came out. “Look, I don’t know nothing. I don’t…”

  “It’s only what the others don’t know, little man. That’s what counts. They’ll all think Carl clued you in, so sweat. Sweat hard,” I said.

  We left Carl Matteau like that and drove six miles back to the Bannerman place and locked Popeye in the smokehouse. He went quietly because Petey laid a short one on his jaw and left him on a pile of sawdust. When he woke up he’d be screaming for a shot and would be ready to say anything if we’d get him a fix.

  I had Petey wait in the car and took the back door route to the house again. Annie had a ready smile, her hands and clothes white with flour. She told me Rudy had come home sick yesterday and was still in bed. Cousin Teddy left town on some mission and Uncle Miles was in the library with Vance Colby.

  Rather than push on in, I stood there, listening to the heated voice coming from inside. The oak doors were too thick to transmit the words but it was Vance Colby that was doing the demanding and Uncle Miles acquiescing little by little. When their discussion came to an end I pulled back, let Vance Colby through without him seeing me, and after he was out and in his car I went inside to where Miles was hunched up behind his desk, his face looking like he had just been whipped.

  “Hello, Uncle.”

  “I don’t think you and I have anything to discuss.”

  “No?”

  It wasn’t what I said. It was the way I said it. His mouth started to hang open and I saw his hands shake. “What… do you mean?”

  We did have something to discuss, all right, but I didn’t know what it was. As long as he thought I did he was on the hook, not me. “I got the picture pretty well laid out,” I told him, a grin on my face.

  Miles looked like he was going to die right there. He’d make a lousy poker player too. He’d said enough with his face to show me not to push any further so I let out a chuckle and walked out of the room.

  Anita was just coming down the stairs, saw me and hurried, both hands reaching for mine. Her voice was soft as she said, “Cat, Cat caught the rat.” When we were kids and she said that I used to chase her until I caught her and held her down squealing and kicking making like I was going to feed her a worm. It had been a great game.

  “Hi, beautiful. Busy today?”

  “Well, Vance…”

  “He just left.”

  A frown creased her forehead. “That’s funny. He didn’t call me.”

  “Big business.”

  I walked toward the kitchen with her, my arm circling her waist. She fitted up against me unconsciously, her thigh rubbing mine. “He’s been like that for a month now. He’s… changed.”

  “Feel like doing a little touring with me?”

  “Where, Cat?”

  “Just around. I have some stops to make.”

  “Okay,” she smiled happily, “let me get my jacket.”

  On the way to town I checked in the office of the motel to see if I had any calls. There were two, one from Sam Reed in Chicago and the other from Hank Feathers. I put the one through to Chicago first and got Sam at his place just as he was about to leave.

  “Cat,” he said, “I got a little more on Matteau. Guy I know pretty well used to work with him and when I got around to asking about him he let loose some odds and ends.”

  “Let’s have them.”

  “The Syndicate didn’t just move in down there. They were approached by somebody with a deal. They never would have touched the area after all the trouble they had the last time, but this deal looked solid and they went for it. Seems legit and Matteau is going to head it up. If it swings the Syndicate will get in good, but it’s got to be legit. They can handle things once they’re established. Now, that do you any good?”

  “It makes sense, Sam. Thanks for calling.”

  “No trouble. Like I said, I’ll be wanting a favor some day.”

  “You’ll get it.”

  I held down the cutoff bar, let it up and gave the operator the out of town number for Hank Feathers. He was in a hotel a hundred miles away on an assignment they threw at him the last minute and had tried to locate me earlier and couldn’t. I said, “What’s up, doc?”

  “Something you’ll have to run down personally. The printer at the paper… the one who lives near Irish Maloney… well, his wife forgot to tell me something. One of her constant visitors backed into a parked car one night and never left a calling card. Minor damage, but she just happened to be coming home, saw the accident and took his license number and stuck it under the windshield wiper of the car he bumped.”

  “A neighborhood car?”

  “Can’t say. She didn’t keep a record. She was just indignant about him running off.”

  “When did it happen?”

  “A couple of weeks ago.”

  “Good deal. I’ll see what I can do.”

  “One more thing… will you get over and see old man Wilkenson? He’s bugging me on the hour. Get him off my back. So he’ll yak for a couple hours about the old days, but then it’s over.”

  “Yeah, sure. See you when you get back.”

  “Two, three days. No more.”

  Anita looked at me curiously when I got back in the car. “Are we going someplace?”

  I nodded. “Making house calls. You’re going to see an insurance investigator at work. At least I hope everybody thinks so.”

  “Why?”

  “Because all this trouble the Bannermans are in has an answer and it’s not the one you think it is.”

  “I thought you didn’t care about them.”

  “I don’t baby, not one damn bit. Only you. If it touches you then I’m involved too. As long as you’re wearing the Bannerman name it’s going to stay clean one way or another. I told you… there’s not one thing I want from them. I was out a long time ago. I’m the bastard Bannerman, I never had anything and never wanted anything. In a way I’m lucky. What I never had I don’t miss. I can work things out for myself and although I don’t eat high off the hog I manage to keep my stomach full. I’m free and clear because I don’t own enough to get into debt over. Don’t think there weren’t times when I envied Rudy and Teddy all they had. I used to hate their guts because they had it all and took what little I had away too. But it’s over now and that’s it. For you I’m pushing, no other reason.”

  “I love you, Cat. I shouldn’t say it, but I do. I always have.”

  “I know, kitten.”

  “Cat… there’s nothing I can do. It’s… it’s too late.”

  “Is it?” My voice felt tight and funny. I let the clutch in and pulled away.

  We took the area a block at a time and rang doorbells, going back to the empty places until we caught someone home. We didn’t have a bit of luck tracing the car until six thirty when I had about four houses to go. A woman came by with an arm load of groceries, saw me getting into the car and stopped me. I had used a fake name all along and almost didn’t hear her when she said, “Oh… Mr. Wells…”

  Anita pointed past me. “She’s calling you, Cat.”

  “Yes?” I remembered her from one of the first calls.

  “I was mentioning your visit to m
y husband when he came home. Well, it wasn’t our car, but a friend of his who was staying overnight. He found his car damaged in the morning with the man’s license number on his windshield.”

  “That’s just fine, ma’m. We’d like to settle the matter as soon as possible, so if you can give me his name I’ll get right to him.”

  “Certainly.” She shifted her packages. “Jack Tenner… and he lives on Third Avenue North. He’s in the book.”

  “Thank you. This has been a great help.”

  At the first pay station I stopped, looked up Jenner in the phone book and dialed his number. He seemed surprised to hear from me because so far he hadn’t done anything about the incident. He read the license number out to me, I told him to process it as quickly as he could, thanked him and hung up.

  One crack in the wall. That’s all you need. There’s always a chink somewhere that is the weakest point and can bring the whole structure down in ruins.

  Anita said, “Have you found it?”

  “Almost. There’s a shadow figure in the picture and when the light hits we’ll know for sure. Let’s go back to my motel. I want to clean up and we can eat.”

  “I was supposed to see Vance. He’ll…”

  “He can wait. A kissin’ cousin has some rights, hasn’t he?”

  “Uh-huh,” she laughed, “but he’ll be mad.”

  “What he needs is another poke in the mouth.”

  “He’ll never forgive you for what you did to him.”

  “Tough. He was asking for it.”

  She nodded, not looking at me. “He’s… always been like that. He had to fight his way up, you know… supported himself at school, started small in business and made everything the difficult way.”

  “What’s new about that, kid? Someday I’ll tell you my story.”

  I swung in at the motel and killed the engine. I opened the door, got one foot out when I saw the other car that was already nosed out start to move. The lights were off and if the top hadn’t crossed the lights of the office I would have missed it. I yelled, “Down!” and gave Anita a shove that sent her on her back on the ground through the door on her side.

  The blast of the gun came on top of the winking yellow light from the muzzle and a bullet smashed into the dashboard over my head sending glass fragments all over the place. I pulled the .45, thumbed the hammer back and let two go toward the car that was swerving in the gravel and heading back to town. From the angle I had to shoot I knew damn well that I had missed him, but they weren’t sticking around for a shoot out. There could always be a second time.

  I got Anita to her feet and inside as people came pouring out of their rooms. The clerk was shaking like a leaf, knocking on my door trying to find out what happened. I told him everything was all right… it was an attempted stickup that didn’t come off and nobody got hurt.

  But I was wrong. He had called the police the minute he heard the shots and Lieutenant Travers himself answered the call. He came in with a uniformed sergeant, closed the door and stood there with his hands behind his back. “Mr. Bannerman… I assume you have a reasonable explanation for the shooting.”

  I told him the stickup story and he didn’t go for it.

  His smile was pretty grim. “You know,” he said, “I’ve had about enough of the Bannerman crap. They think they can get away with anything in this town and most of the times they can. I’ve been read off too often by my superiors who were under pressure and took too much lip from cheap politicians too many times. I think this time I’ll nail me a Bannerman.” His smile got colder with each word. “We had a complaint that you carry a gun. This so?”

  There was no sense denying it. I nodded toward the chair where it lay under my coat.

  Travers said, “Get it, Fred.”

  I knew what was coming next and started to get dressed. When I finished he said, “Let’s go. All the talking you can do at headquarters with witnesses and someone to take your statement.” He looked at Anita. “You too, miss.”

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  They sat us down around a table, my gun laying there in the middle and Travers looking pleased with himself. He had given Anita the opportunity to make a phone call and she got Vance Colby. He was on the way over.

  In the meantime I made small talk, got the point across that I’d like some representation myself and after Travers thought it over he told the sergeant to plug in the phone. I got Wilkenson’s name out of the book, told him who I was and where I was and asked him to get over fast. He was too excited to talk, but said he’d be there as quickly as possible.

  For a ninety-three year old man he did a good job. He made it in five minutes. I hadn’t seen him in twenty-five years and it looked as if he hadn’t aged a bit. He was tall, topped with a bushy white head of hair, a manner that was positive and honest and it was easy to see why George P. Wilkenson was the most respected counsellor in the state.

  We shook hands and his grip was firm. I was ready for a lot of gab, then got fooled there too. He asked Travers if he could speak to me alone for a few minutes and Travers was glad to grant him the courtesy. From his expression I knew what he was thinking… it would take a lot of talking to get me off the hook and it wasn’t about to happen.

  The tiny room we sat in stunk of stale sweat and cigar smoke and the edge of the table was notched with cigarette burns. I had seen too many of these rooms to enjoy being in one again. Wilkenson threw his briefcase on the table, pulled out a sheaf of papers and thrust them toward me, fanning them out so I could see the signature lines he had marked off.

  “Cat,” he said, “your father trusted me, so did your grandfather. Do you?”

  “Why not?”

  “Very well then.” He held out a pen. “Sign where indicated.”

  I wrote my name in about twenty places, handed the pen back and stacked the papers together. “What was that all about?”

  “Did you ever know the details of your grandfather’s will?”

  I made a noncommittal gesture with my hands. “He split it with my old man and Miles, didn’t he?”

  “Up to a point, yes. There were certain other provisions. After their death the unspent capital would go to their children. If the children die, the remainder would go to the other brother or his children.”

  “So?”

  “The final provision was this. Your grandfather knew your father’s habits. It was his idea that his children might inherit his casual attitude of neglect and fail to claim the money. In that event, if the capital belonging to the deceased brother was not claimed by his children within thirty years, the others took possession. That time period is up… this Saturday. Tomorrow.”

  I still didn’t get it. “Okay, so I inherit a hundred percent of nothing. Why all the business. The old man blew his load in a hurry. I hope he had fun.”

  “Ah, that’s the point, son. He didn’t. He was footloose enough, but his material possessions were very few. The fun he had didn’t cost much at all. When he died he left quite a few million dollars intact. After taxes you stand to inherit at least two of them.”

  I felt my fingers bite the edge of the table and without realizing it I was on my feet. “What?”

  Wilkenson nodded slowly. “That’s why the urgency of having you sign the claim.”

  Now the picture was laid out from all angles. I asked the next question. “Where do Miles and his kids come in.”

  “Nowhere, I’m afraid. They have gone through every cent they ever had. You are the only wealthy Bannerman left.”

  “Damn!”

  “But there’s one clause that may disrupt everything, son. It has me worried. You stand to face a very serious charge.”

  “What about it?”

  “Your grandfather was a peculiarly virtuous old man. He was honest and law abiding to the extreme. He specified in the will that if any of the inheritors should ever be held and booked by the police on a criminal charge, and found guilty, they were to be cut off immediately and the money transferred to the ot
hers.”

  No wonder the Bannermans were so fussy about keeping out of trouble. Buy anything or anybody, as long as the cost was less than the eventual one.

  “Lieutenant Travers intends to book you. Carrying concealed weapons is a criminal charge.”

  “You let me take care of that,” I said.

  He shook his massive head. “I’m afraid he can’t be bought.”

  “You let me take care of that,” I repeated.

  Wilkenson studied me a moment regretfully. He had done his duty, fulfilled his commitment, and now there was nothing more to do except make out more papers. I grinned at him, tight and nasty. “Don’t count me out. Not yet. First do me a favor.”

  “If I can.”

  “Get hold of Petey Salvo.” I gave him a list of places where he could be located. “Tell him to get Carl Matteau and keep him with Gage until…” I looked at my watch, “… eleven o’clock tonight, then bring them to the Bannerman place. We’ll be waiting.”

  He frowned at me. “But…”

  “Just do it, okay?”

  “Very well.”

  “Good. Now beat it. Don’t let any of the others see you.”

  The sergeant took me back to the other room and there the clan was gathered; Miles, Rudy, Teddy and Vance. Anita had pulled away from him and looked at me anxiously when I came in and I didn’t let my expression change at all. Except for Anita, they didn’t seem a bit unhappy at all.

  Vance said to Travers, “Now, sir, if it’s all right with you, I would like to take Miss Bannerman home. It’s been very trying for her.”

  The cop nodded agreement. “I know where to find her.”

  “Will there be any charges?”

  “Oh, I don’t think so,” he said pleasantly. “She’ll be a witness, naturally but as an innocent bystander. The one I want is right here.” He pointed a long finger at me. I sat down and didn’t look at them, but I managed a wink of confidence at Anita. She forced a smile, but her eyes were wet.

  “Go on home, honey,” I said. “It’s not all that bad.”

  When they had gone Travers sat back, satisfied with himself, and said, “Now let’s get to your statement.”