The Death Dealers (6 page)

She sucked the breath back into her lungs with a deep, involuntary gasp that was almost a sob, nearly choking on the air. I cut loose the rest of the nylon, lifted her to the couch and stretched her out there.

“Wet a towel,” I said. “Get a glass of water too.”

“Listen, maybe we should call the cops.”

“Damn it, do what I told you.”

He gulped, his face still pale. “Sure, Mac.”

I ran my fingers through her hair and pushed it away from her face. “Rondine ...”

Slowly, her eyes fluttered open.

“Don’t talk. You’re okay now.”

Her smile was weak, but her eyes told me everything. When the doorman came back I wiped her face until she was breathing normally and the tension was gone, then I let her sip from the glass until she said, “Thank you. I ... I’m all right now.”

“I should call the cops, Mac,” the big guy repeated. “This stuff ...”

When I turned around I let him have the hard stare. My coat opened just enough so he could see the speed rig and the butt of the .45 again and when I said, “What the hell do I look like to you?” he gave me a dumb grin like he had just missed the boat.

“Sorry ... I’m gettin’ slow. I thought you was at first. You ain’t from this precinct, are you?”

“I’m from downtown. Now let’s get some fast answers. How many people have come in and out of here the past half hour?”

He shrugged, furrowed his eyes in thought and said, “Not countin’ the residents, maybe twenty.”

“Repeaters?”

“Some. Don’t know them by name, but some were here before.”

“Could you identify them?”

“Big tippers I can. Few gimme a buck to a fin to open a damn cab door. Them I know.”

“Start refreshing your memory then. Think of the ones who didn’t tip.” I looked down at Rondine. The suffused look was gone now and her face was pale, her lips dry. “Can you talk or is it too much to ask?”

“I can ... talk, Tiger.”

“Okay. Go slow and easy. What happened?”

She pointed to the water glass and I gave her another swallow. She took it gratefully and lay back again, her eyes closed. “About ... twenty to six ... the bell rang.”

“From downstairs or here?”

“This door.”

The doorman said, “He must’ve come in behind one of the others. The downstairs door had to be opened with a buzzer then. I was on the curb outside.”

“Go ahead, doll.”

“I answered. He asked ... if I were Edith Caine and said he had a message from my office.”

“You invited him in?”

Rondine nodded. “He had a briefcase. He opened it ... but what he took out was a cosh.”

“A what?” the doorman asked me.

“British term for a sap, a blackjack.”

“Oh.”

“He simply hit me,” she said. “I was tied up when I regained consciousness.”

“What did he want?”

She frowned, her eyes drifting to mine. “Nothing ... from me. He said, ‘You’re my gift to Mr. Mann. I owe him more, but he will ... appreciate this gift.’ ”

“Describe him.”

“Tall ... thin. He looked ... rather nice. Nothing special about him that way. Sort of ... like a businessman. You might say, average except for ... well, his hair was combed in that manner foreigners seem to have. Just ... different enough so they don’t look ... American.”

“I know what you mean.”

“Then there was ... his voice,” she said.

“What about it?”

“Strange. As if he found it hard to talk. Not like having a cold ... but forced.”

I felt the ice run right down my shoulders into my fingertips again. So Malcolm Turos had found my weak link. His information was great, his sources reliable. His little gift of Rondine’s death was for my gift of a bullet in his neck. But he had missed. His gift wasn’t acceptable and he’d have to try again. He was enjoying his assignment and even when he would learn that she still lived he’d enjoy it because he knew I’d be sweating and my hand couldn’t be in the game all the way because I’d have to play cover for her as well as take care of myself and our own project. He would split the action this way and had she died he knew I’d blow my own job to go after him and a guy that comes at you mad is a dead guy before he starts. But he played his openers too cute. He’d let the story go out purposely and a lot of eyes would be on the game because he wanted them to watch him smirk while he cleaned house on me. He was forgetting the old dodge about he who laughs last, lasts best.

I said, “Cool it, baby. No more talking.”

She shook her head, watching me closely. “You ... know who it was?”

“That’s right.”

“What are you ... ?”

“I’ll take care of it my way.” I got up, walked to the phone and dialed the Calvin. I got Lennie Byrnes on the phone, gave him the address and told him to get over as fast as he could.

The big doorman was watching me, taking everything in. I took him to one side and said, “Anybody with a screwy voice say anything to you at all?”

He hunched his shoulders, then shook his head. “Nope.”

“See anyone with a briefcase? Tall, thin ... average guy?”

“Maybe six or eight. A lot come in here like that.” He paused, scowled again, then added, “Come to think of it, them what had briefcases been here pretty much before. Like they got clients or somethin’ in the building. Only one guy I never seen. Yeah, I remember that one guy now because he looked up at the marquee like he was checking the name of the building and he had a pink scar on his throat about the size of a nickel. He came right in behind the Wheelers. They was getting out of a cab and he came walking.”

“You’d recognize him again?”

“Sure would.”

“All right, then I’ll give you some information and it’s to stop right where you are, understand?”

He nodded and grinned. “I get the pitch.”

“If he comes in here again you stop him cold. The hard way. Do it out of sight. Get him in the lobby or in the elevator. The guy’s armed and dangerous so watch yourself.”

“I’ve had ’em like that before.”

“Don’t press your luck on this one. This is more than a city police matter. If he gets away from you, or you can’t get to him, call the local precinct station and make it an emergency because that’s what it will be.”

“Got it.”

I took out my pen, wrote the phone number of Charlie Corbinet and the I.A.T.S. offices down and put mine on the bottom. “These are Federal Agency people. You get everybody you can on this if it comes up. My number is the last one. You may not be able to reach me, but try anyway. I’m assigned to this job and will be right with it ... but remember, in an emergency, you go directly to the police and these numbers.”

He took the card, checked it and stuck it in his pocket. “Can I ask you one question, Mac?”

“Go ahead.”

“Who’re you?”

“My name’s Tiger Mann. It won’t mean anything to you.” He stared at me through squinting eyes, then started a slow grin. “Like hell it don’t.” The grin got bigger. “You ain’t no real cop either.”

“Oh?”

“Remember Maxie McCall?”

“Sure. He still fighting?”

“No more. He’s running a gym. Him and me used to be in the army together. Plenty of times he told me about you. Damn, I thought he was makin’ it all up.”

“He probably did.”

The guy gave a sidewise glance toward Rondine on the couch. “Not after this. I believe everything he told me now.”

“Keep it to yourself,” I said.

“I learned how to shut up a long time ago, Tiger. I better get back downstairs.”

It took Lennie fifteen minutes to get there. I had time to reach Charlie Corbinet, give him the layout and tell him to alert I.A.T.S. and the C.I.A. that Malcolm Turos had arrived but to keep his source quiet. He didn’t like it, but went along anyway.

Lennie got the picture in a hurry, glad of being involved even if the big action was already over and nodded at my instructions to stay with Rondine every minute she was here. He was to escort her to work and back and stay on tap at the U.N. buildings within reach, even if it was unlikely another try would be made for her there.

I went over and took her hand. “You feel all right?”

“Yes. Do you ... have to go?”

“I’ll be back.” I squeezed her fingers gently. “I’m sorry you were caught in the middle, kid.”

She smiled at me, her eyes coming back to life. “I understand.”

“Not yet you don’t, but let me put it this way. You had basic training with British Intelligence. You were told to expect things like this. You’ve seen it happen before and now it’s happening again. What’s going on involves the security of your country and mine both. What happens in the world can hinge on the outcome of this operation. We have a side angle with them making a try for you but it ties in with what they’re after. You’ll have to stay on your toes. You’re cleared to carry a gun if you have to and I want you to keep a rod handy. Your embassy will be notified by now and they’ll keep a cover on you as well as me. Later we’ll arrange a contact and I may even dangle you as bait if I have to. I don’t want to, but I may have to.”

“Is it ... really that big?”

The nylon cord was still on the floor where I dropped it. I picked it up, stretched it out and showed it to her. “These aren’t ordinary knots. They’re specialty jobs designed for torture, then death. We’re playing in a big pro game and any time you forget it take a look at your souvenir.” I dropped the nylon in her hand. She fingered it once seriously, then looked up at me again.

“There won’t be any forgetting, darling.”

I leaned down, kissed her mouth gently, then stood up. Lennie was watching me. “Take good care of her, boy,” I said.

“Don’t worry.”

“I’m not.”

Downstairs I found the doorman on the curb, back opening cab doors. When he was alone I said, “Get the lock on Miss Caine’s door fixed, will you?”

“I already checked with the maintenance man. He’s coming right over.”

“Anybody hear the shot?”

“So far nobody complained. You can’t hear nuthin’ on the other floors and both parties down the other end of the hall are out. Nope, I don’t think anybody heard a thing.”

“Good. You yell if you see our boy again.”

“I’ll do better’n that,” he told me, bunching the muscles under his coat again. “I don’t like my tenants molested.”

“Just save a little piece for me,” I said.

“Sure. Just a little hunk.”

From the hotel I called Newark Control and put my report through. Virgil Adams was on the desk there, got it all down and said, “Want us to start a run on Malcolm Turos?”

“Go ahead. See if you can get him located. He probably came in on a forged passport or through the Cuban screen like they’ve been doing lately. Any identification on him will be through his voice. This guy can handle a disguise pretty well. You have any photos on him over there?”

“Nothing late and nothing clear. I don’t think they’ll do you any good.”

“Send them over anyway. You might try the Brazilian end. He operated there under the name of Arturo Pensa.”

“Isn’t that the guy you shot?”

“The same. If he was in a hospital there they might have photos. The local police would have been in on it. Besides, you never can tell what you can find in a newspaper morgue. The place was full of flashbulbs popping that night.”

“We’ll give it a try.”

“Anything new on Teddy?”

“Not a thing. Pete hasn’t reached us yet either. Martin Grady’s getting a little edgy and you know what that means. If we don’t get anything in a couple of days he’ll throw a team out. That situation is too touchy to move in on yet so I hope he goes slowly.”

“He knows what he’s doing.”

“Yeah, but with the investigation going he can’t afford to lose control. We have a man inside of Interpol and we may come up with something on that end. If Tedesco is still alive and they can reach him they’ll break him loose. We can hold any charge they make if we have to as long as they save his skin. I wish you were over there, Tiger.”

“So do I.”

“Don’t lose hope. You might go yet.” He paused, said, “Hang on a minute,” and after I heard papers shuffling, came back with, “Okay, the action on Turos is started. They’re contacting our people now. There’s a ten grand going price on his head and we can up it if we have to.”

“I’ll keep in touch. I still have the feeling he’ll make the try for me.”

“One word of thought, Tiger.”

“What’s that?”

“Don’t kill him.”

I said, “If he has anything to say I’ll make him talk first. Don’t I always?” Then I hung up.

At a quarter to eight I was at Ernie Bentley’s soaking in a tub of dye. I came out of it three shades darker than the tan I already had, and with a hairpiece to fit over the wig, the dark glasses and a native costume I could pass in a crowd for one of the Saudi Arabian boys if nobody looked too closely. Ernie was putting the finishing touches on with makeup when Tom, Dick and Harry came in behind Jack Brant. They weren’t wearing their grins any more. Apparently Jack had filled them in pretty good and they knew what was in the wind.

All of them looked at me, the three guys a little dumb-struck, and when I checked myself in a mirror I could see why. Jack shook his head, laughing at me in the glass from behind my shoulder. “Damn, if you don’t look like a seventh son. You sure you’re not a eunuch?”

“I can get affidavits to prove it, buddy.”

“Never mind. I can remember a few incidents....”

To shut him up I nudged his gut with my elbow. “Everybody set?”

“Better than you think. Some of the boys on the dock are friends of mine. We’re going in unannounced and you’ll get first crack like you wanted.”

“Every little bit helps.”

In a low tone Jack said seriously, “You sure there won’t be any trouble? That’s the only thing that shook the boys, but one way or another, they’re still willing to go along.”