Everybody's Watching Me

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Everybody's Watching Me Page 9

by Mickey Spillane


  I got the Ford and it didn’t cost me a thing unless I piled it up. The guy grinned when he handed me the keys and made a familiar gesture with his hand. I grinned back. I gave the cabbie his fare with a little extra and got in the Ford with my box. It was almost over.

  A mile outside Mark Renzo’s roadhouse I stopped at a gas station and while the attendant filled me up all around, I used his phone. I got Renzo on the first try and said, “This is Joe, fat boy.”

  His breath in the phone came louder than the words. “Where are you?”

  “Never mind. I’ll be there. Let me talk to Helen.”

  I heard him call and then there was Helen. Her voice was tired and all the hope was gone from it. She said, “Joe…”

  It was enough. I’d know her voice any time. I said, “Honey…don’t worry about it. You’ll be okay.”

  She started to say something else, but Renzo must have grabbed the phone from her. “You got the stuff, kid?”

  “I got it.”

  “Let’s go, sonny. You know what happens if you don’t.”

  “I know,” I said. “You better do something first. I want to see the place of yours empty in a hurry. I don’t feel like being stopped going in. Tell them to drive out and keep on going. I’ll deliver the stuff to you, that’s all.”

  “Sure, kid, sure. You’ll see the boys leave.”

  “I’ll be watching,” I said.

  Joke.

  I made the other call then. It went back to my hotel room and I did it smart. I heard the phone ring when the clerk hit the room number, heard the phone get picked up and said as though I were in one big hurry, “Look, Helen, I’m hopping the stuff out to Renzo’s. He’s waiting for it. As soon as he pays off we’ll blow. See you later.”

  When I slapped the phone back I laughed again then got Gerot again. This time he was waiting. I said, “Captain…they’ll all be at Renzo’s place. There’ll be plenty of fun for everybody. You’ll even find a fortune in heroin.”

  “You’re the one I want, Joe.”

  “Not even Vetter?”

  “No, he comes next. First you.” This time he hung up on me. So I laughed again as the joke got funnier and made my last call.

  The next voice was the one I had come to know so well. I said, “Joe Boyle. I’m heading for Renzo’s. Cooley had cached the stuff in a locker and I need it for a trade. I have a light blue Ford and need a quick way out. The trouble is going to start.”

  “There’s a side entrance,” the voice said. “They don’t use it any more. If you’re careful you can come in that way and if you stay careful you can make it to the big town without getting spotted.”

  “I heard about Gulley,” I said.

  “Saddening. He was a wealthy man.”

  “You’ll be here?”

  “Give me five minutes,” the voice told me. “I’ll be at the side entrance. I’ll make sure nobody stops you.”

  “There’ll be police. They won’t be asking questions.”

  “Let me take care of that.”

  “Everybody wants Vetter,” I said.

  “Naturally. Do you think they’ll find him?”

  I grinned. “I doubt it.”

  The other voice chuckled as it hung up.

  I saw them come out from where I stood in the bushes. They got into cars, eight of them and drove down the drive slowly. They turned back toward town and I waited until their lights were a mile away before I went up the steps of the club.

  At that hour it was an eerie place, a dimly lit ghost house showing the signs of people that had been there earlier. I stood inside the door, stopped and listened. Up the stairs I heard a cough. It was like that first night, only this time I didn’t have somebody dragging me. I could remember the stairs and the long, narrow corridor at the top, and the oak paneled door at the end of it. Even the thin line of light that came from under the door. I snuggled the box under my arm and walked in.

  Renzo was smiling from his chair behind the desk. It was a funny kind of a smile like I was a sucker. Helen was huddled on the floor in a corner holding a hand to the side of her cheek. Her dress had been shredded down to the waist, and tendrils of tattered cloth clung to the high swell of her breasts, followed the smooth flow of her body. Her other hand tried desperately to hide her nakedness from Renzo’s leer. She was trembling, and the terror in her eyes was an ungodly thing.

  And Renzo grinned. Big, fat Renzo. Renzo the louse whose eyes were now on the package under my arm, with the grin turning to a slow sneer. Renzo the killer who found a lot of ways to get away with murder and was looking at me as if he were seeing me for the first time.

  He said, “You got your going away clothes on, kid.”

  “Yeah.”

  “You won’t be needing them.” He made the sneer bigger, but I wasn’t watching him. I was watching Helen, seeing the incredible thing that crossed her face.

  “I’m different, Helen?”

  She couldn’t speak. All she could do was nod.

  “I told you I wasn’t such a kid. I just look that way. Twenty…twenty-one you thought?” I laughed and it had a funny sound. Renzo stopped sneering. “I got ten years on that, honey. Don’t worry about being in love with a kid.”

  Renzo started to get up then. Slowly, a ponderous monster with hands spread apart to kill something. “You two did it. You damn near ruined me. You know what happens now?” He licked his lips and the muscles rolled under his shirt.

  My face was changing shape and I nodded. Renzo never noticed. Helen saw it. I said, “A lot happens now, fat boy.” I dropped the package on the floor and kicked it to one side. Renzo moved out from behind the desk. He wasn’t thinking any more. He was just seeing me and thinking of his empire that had almost toppled. The package could set it up again. I said, “Listen, you can hear it happen.”

  Then he stopped to think. He turned his head and you could hear the whine of engines and the shots coming clear across the night through the rain. There was a frenzy about the way it was happening, the frenzy and madness that goes into a banzai charge and above it the moan of sirens that seemed to go ignored.

  It was happening to Renzo too, the kill hate in his eyes, the saliva that made wet paths from the corners of his tight mouth. His whole body heaved and when his head turned back to me again, the eyes were bright with the lust of murder.

  I said, “Come here, Helen,” and she came to me. I took the envelope out of my pocket and gave it to her, and then I took off my jacket, slipping it over her shoulders. She pulled it closed over her breasts, the terror in her eyes fading. “Go out the side…the old road. The car is waiting there. You’ll see a tall guy beside it, a big guy all around and if you happen to see his face, forget it. Tell him this. Tell him I said to give the report to the Chief. Tell him to wait until I contact him for the next assignment then start the car and wait for me. I’ll be in a hurry. You got that?”

  “Yes, Joe.” The disbelief was still in her eyes.

  Renzo moved slowly, the purpose plain in his face. His hands were out and he circled between me and the door. There was something fiendish about his face.

  The sirens and the shooting were getting closer.

  He said, “Vetter won’t get you out of this, kid. I’m going to kill you and it’ll be the best thing I ever did. Then the dame. The blonde. Weber told me he saw a blonde at Gulley’s and I knew who did this to me. The both of you are going to die, kid. There ain’t no Vetter here now.”

  I let him have a long look at me. I grinned. I said, “Remember what that note said? It said Vetter was going to spill your guts all over the floor. You remember that, Renzo?”

  “Yeah,” He said. “Now tell me you got a gun, kid. Tell me that and I’ll tell you you’re a liar. I can smell a rod a mile away. You had it, kid. There ain’t no Vetter here now.”

  Maybe it was the way I let myself go. I could feel the loosening in my shoulders and my face was a picture only Renzo could see. “You killed too many men, Renzo, one too many. The o
nes you peddle the dope to die slowly, the ones who take it away die quick. It’s still a lot of men. You killed them, Renzo, a whole lot of them. You know what happens to killers in this country? It’s a funny law, but it works. Sometimes to get what it wants, it works in peculiar fashion. But it works.

  “Remember the note. Remember hard what it said.” I grinned and what was in it stopped him five feet away. What was in it made him frown, then his eyes opened wide, almost too wide and he had the expression Helen had the first time.

  I said to her, “Don’t wait, Helen,” and heard the door open and close. Renzo was backing away, his feet shuffling on the carpet.

  Two minutes at the most.

  “I’m Vetter,” I said. “Didn’t you know? Couldn’t you tell? Me…Vetter. The one everybody wonders about, even the cops. Vetter the puzzle. Vetter the one who’s there but isn’t there.” The air was cold against my teeth. “Remember the note, Renzo. No, you can’t smell a gun because I haven’t got one. But look at my hand. You’re big and strong…you’re a killer, but look at my hand and find out who the specialist really is and you’ll know that there was no lie in that note you read the first night.”

  Renzo tried to scream, stumbled fell. I laughed again and moved in on him. He was reaching for something in the desk drawer knowing all the time that he wasn’t going to make it and the knife in my hand made a nasty little snick and he screamed again so high it almost blended with the sirens.

  Maybe one minute left, but it would be enough and the puzzle would always be there and the name when mentioned would start another ball rolling and the country a little cleaner and the report when the Chief read it would mean one more done with…done differently, but done.

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  Document authors :

  Mickey Spillane

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