The Mike Hammer Collection (7 page)

I knew Kalecki probably had tipped the doorman and the super off not to admit me, so I didn't bother messing with them. Instead I walked in like a regular resident and took the elevator to the second floor. The operator was a skinny runt in his late twenties who wore a built-in leer. I was the only one in the car, and when we stopped I pulled a bill from my pocket and showed him the color of it.

“Kalecki. George Kalecki. He's new in this dump. What apartment and the green is yours,” I said.

He gave me a careful going over, that one. Finally put his tongue in his cheek and said, “You must be that Hammer mug. He gimme a ten not to spot him for you.”

I opened my coat and pulled my .45 from its holster. The kid's eyes popped when he saw it. “I
am
that Hammer mug, junior,” I told him, “and if you don't spot him for me I'm giving you this.” I motioned toward his teeth with the gun barrel.

“Front 206,” he said hastily. My bill was a five. I rolled it up in a ball and poked it in his wide-opened mouth, then shoved the rod back.

“The next time remember me. And in the meantime, act like a clam or I'll open you up like one.”

“Y-yes, sir.” He practically leaped back in the car and slammed the door shut.

206 was down the hall, the apartment facing on the street. I knocked, but there was no answer. Hardly breathing, I put my ear against the wood paneling of the door and kept it there. That way the wood acts as a sounding board, and any noise made inside is magnified a hundred times. That is, except this time. Nobody was home. Just to be sure, I slid a note under the door, then walked away and took the stairs down to the first landing. There I took off my shoes and tiptoed back up. The note was still sticking out exactly as I had placed it.

Instead of fooling around I brought out a set of skeleton keys. The third one did it. I snapped the deadlock on the door behind me—just in case.

The apartment was furnished. None of Kalecki's personal stuff was in the front room except a picture of himself on the mantel when he was younger. I walked into the bedroom. It was a spacious place, with two chests of drawers and a table. But there was only one bed. So they did sleep together. I had to laugh even if I did mention it to get a rise out of them before.

A suitcase was under the bed. I opened that first. On top of six white shirts a .45 was lying with two spare clips beside it. Man, oh man, that caliber gun is strictly for professionals, and they were turning up all over the place. I sniffed the barrel, but it was clean. As far as I could tell, it hadn't been fired for a month. I wiped my prints off and put the gun back.

There wasn't much in the chest of drawers, either. Hal Kines had a photo album that showed him engaging in nearly every college sport there is. A lot of the shots were of women, and some of them weren't half bad, that is if you like them tall and on the thin side. Me, I like 'em husky. Toward the end of the book were several showing Kalecki and Hal together. In one they were fishing. Another was taken alongside a car in camping clothes. It was the third one that interested me.

Both Hal and Kalecki were standing outside a store. In this one Hal wasn't dressed like a college kid at all. In fact, he looked quite the businessman. But that wasn't the point—yet. In the window behind him was one of those news releases they plant in stores facing the street that are made up of a big photo with a caption below it. There were two. One was indiscernible, but the other was the burning of the
Morro Castle.
And the
Morro
Castle went up in flames eight years ago. Yet here was Hal Kines looking older than he looked now.

I didn't get any more time to look around. I heard the elevator doors slam and I walked into the front room. When I got there someone was fiddling at the lock. There was a steady stream of curses before I clicked up the deadlock and opened the door. “Come in, George,” I said.

He looked more scared than amazed. Apparently he really believed that it was me who took the shot at him. Hal was behind him ready to run as soon as I made one move. George recovered first.

“Where do you get off breaking into my apartment. This time ...”

“Oh, shut up and come in. It's just as monotonous for me. If you'd stay home awhile, you'd be better off.” The two of them stamped into the bedroom. When he came out he was red as a beet. I didn't give him a chance to accuse me of anything.

“Why all the artillery?” I asked him.

“For guys like you,” he snarled, “for guys that try potting me through a window. Besides, I have a permit to carry it.”

“Okay, you got a permit. Just be sure you know who you use that rod on.”

“Don't worry, I'll give you a warning first. Now, if you don't mind, will you tell me what you are doing here?”

“Sure, sonny. I want the low-down on the bang, bang. Since I was the one accused of it, I'd like to know just what I was supposed to have done.”

George slid a cigar from its wrapper and inserted it in a holder. He took his time lighting it up before he spoke.

“You seem to have police connections,” he said finally. “Why don't you ask them?”

“Because I don't like second-hand information. And if you're smart you'll talk. That gun was the killer's gun, and I want the killer. You know that. But that isn't all. The killer made one try and missed, so you can bet your boots there'll be another.”

Kalecki took the cigar out of his mouth. Little lines of fear were racing around his eyes. The guy was scared. He tried to hide it, but he didn't do very well. A nervous tic tugged at the corner of his mouth.

“I still see nothing I can tell you that would help. I was sitting in the big chair by the window. The first thing I knew the glass shattered beside me and the bullet hit the back of the chair. I dropped to the floor and crawled to the wall to be out of sight of whoever fired the shot.”

“Why?” I said slowly.

“Why? To save myself, of course. You don't think I was just going to sit there and get shot at, do you?” Kalecki gave me a look of contempt but I ignored it.

“You don't get the point, George,” I told him. “Why were you shot at to begin with?”

Little beads of sweat were popping out on his forehead. He wiped his brow nervously. “How should I know? I've made enemies in my time.”

“This was a very particular enemy, George. This one killed Jack, too, and he's coming back after you. He may not miss the next time. Why are you on his list?”

He was really jumpy now. “I—I don't know. Honest I don't.” He was almost apologetic the way he spoke now. “I tried to think it out but I don't get anywhere. That's why I moved to the city. Where I was, anyone could get to me. At least here there are other people around.”

I leaned forward. “You didn't think enough. You and Jack had something in common. What was it? What did you know that Jack did? What did you have on somebody that Jack might have tumbled to? When you answer that question you'll have your killer. Now do I bang your head on the floor to help you remember or do you do it yourself?”

He stood up straight and paced across the room. The thought of being on a kill list had him half bugs. He just wasn't as young as he used to be. This sort of thing got him down.

“I can't say. If there's anything, it's a mistake. I didn't know Jack long. Hal knew him. He met him through Miss Manning. If you can figure out a tie-up in there I'll be glad to tell you what I know. Do you think I want to get knocked off?”

That was an angle I had forgotten about. Hal Kines was still sitting in the armchair beside the mantelpiece dragging heavily on a cigarette. For an athlete he wasn't holding to training rules at all. I still couldn't get the picture of Hal out of my mind. The one taken eight years ago. He was only a young punk, but that shot made him look like an old man. I don't know. Maybe it was an abandoned store that had the picture in it for years.

“Okay, Hal, let's hear what you know.” The kid turned his head toward me, giving me an excellent view of his Greek-god profile.

“George mentioned everything.”

“How do you know Miss Manning?” I asked him. “When did you meet her? After all, a babe like that plays ball in a bigger league than you can pay admission to see.”

“Oh, she came to school last year and gave a lecture on practical psychology. That's what I'm majoring in. She had several students visit her clinic in New York to see her methods. I was one of them. She became interested in me and assisted me no end. That's all.”

It wasn't hard to see why she'd become interested in him. It made me mad to think of it, but he could have been right. Maybe it was purely professional interest. After all, a woman like that could have just about any male she wanted, including me.

I went on. “And what about Jack? When did you meet him?”

“Shortly afterwards. Miss Manning took me to his apartment for supper with him and Myrna. I got involved in a drunken brawl right after a football game. It was the last one of the season and all training rules were off. I guess we all went a bit too far, but we wrecked a joint. Jack knew the proprietor and instead of turning us in, made us pay for the place. The following week I was studying the case history of a homicidal maniac in the city wards when I met him again. He was glad to see me and we had dinner together. We became rather good friends in a short time. I was glad to know him, because he helped me immensely. The type of work I was doing involved visits to places where I ordinarily would not have access to, but with his help I managed to get to them all.”

For the life of me I couldn't make anything out of it. Jack never spoke too much about anyone. Our association had started by having an interest in police work and our friendship had developed over firing ranges, ballistics tables and fingerprint indexes. Even in the army we had thought about it. Life on the side was only incidental. He had mentioned his friends. That's about all. Myrna I knew very well. Kalecki from his underworld contacts. The Bellemy twins from the newspapers mostly, and the short time I had seen them before.

There was nothing more to be gained by hanging around here. I slapped my hat back on and walked toward the door. Neither of them thought to say so long, so I stepped out and slammed the door as hard as I could. Outside I wondered when George had gotten hold of the .45. Pat had said none of those at the party had ever owned a gun. Yet George had one and a permit to carry it. Or at least he said so. Well, if anything cropped up where a .45 was involved, I'd know where to look first.

The Bellemy twins lived on the fifth floor. Their apartment was in the same position as Kalecki's. The only difference was that they answered the bell. The door had a chain lock on the inside and a plain, but vaguely pretty face was meeting mine through the six-inch opening.

“Yes?”

I couldn't tell which of the twins I was speaking to, so I said, “Miss Bellemy?” She nodded. “I'm Mr. Hammer, private investigator. I'm working on the Williams case. Could you ...”

“Why, of course.” The door closed and the chain removed from the lock. When the door opened again, I was facing a woman that had athlete written all over her. Her skin was brown from the sun except for the wrinkle spots beside her eyes, and her arms and shoulders were as smooth-muscled as a statue's. This one certainly didn't have justice done her by her photos. For a moment it struck me why they were having any trouble finding husbands. As far as I could see, there wasn't anything wrong with this particular twin that the money she had couldn't cover. Plenty of guys would take her without any cash settlement at all.

“Won't you come in?”

“Thank you.” I stepped inside and surveyed the place. Not much different from Kalecki's, but it had a light perfume smell instead of a cigar odor. She led me to a pair of divans separated by a coffee table and waved toward one. I sat down and she took the other.

“Now what is it you wish to see me about?”

“Perhaps you'd better tell me which Miss Bellemy I'm speaking to so I won't get my twins crossed.”

“Oh, I'm Mary,” she laughed. “Esther has gone shopping, which means she's gone for the day.”

“Well, I guess you can tell me all I need to know. Has Mr. Chambers been to see you yet?”

“Yes. And he told me to expect you, too.”

“I won't have much to ask. You knew Jack before the war, didn't you?” She acknowledged with a nod. “Did you notice anything particular the night of the party?” I continued.

“No, nothing. Light drinking and a little dancing. I saw Jack talking rather earnestly to Myrna a few times, and once he and Mr. Kines went out in the kitchen for about fifteen minutes, but they came back laughing as though they had been telling jokes.”

“Did any of the others team up at all?”

“Umm, no, not to speak of. Myrna and Charlotte had a conference for a while, but the boys broke it up when the dancing started. I think they were talking about Myrna's wedding plans.”

“What about afterwards?”

“We had a bite to eat, then came home. Both of us had forgotten our keys as usual and had to wake the super up to let us in. Both of us went right to bed. I knew nothing about the murder until a reporter awakened us with a phone call to get a statement. We expected a visit from the police at once and stayed at home to receive them, but no one came until today.”

She stopped short and cocked her head a little. “Oh,” she said, “you must excuse me. I left the water running in the tub.” She ran to the narrow hallway and disappeared into the bathroom. Maybe I was getting old. I didn't hear any water running.