“If it reads you walk out of here.”
“Just a damn minute!” Jeff Landry tried to push by the bar of Johnny's extended arm. “If this is the guy that poisoned those animals he's not going to walk out of here!”
“Listen to me, Jeff.” Johnny said it quickly; he pushed the veterinarian back down the corridor and out of Tim Connor's hearing as he lowered his own voice. “You got a lot of money invested here, and you had a close call. We got a break and you're out of the barrel, but you go working this guy over he can tie you up indefinitely with assault charges and damage suits. Use your head.”
“Those animals-” Jeff began stubbornly, and paused. He took a slow step backward. “Get him out of here, then. Fast. Before I change my mind.”
Johnny walked back to Tim Connor. “Let's hear it, Tim.”
The beefy man swallowed visibly. “Hear? What else is to hear? You laid it all out on the drawing board.”
“I want to hear it from you, and right now. That's a soundproof door there, and Jeff is a little restless. Talk.”
“If I do I walk out?”
“If I think I'm hearing it all.”
“I was hired to scare Landry away from this address,” Tim Connor said abruptly. “It figured that a little bad publicity ought to change his mind that his lease couldn't be bought up.” He hesitated, and his eyes went warily to Jeff. He cleared his throat tentatively before continuing. “I sent two people in with dogs which had already been fed a pill set to dissolve in ten to twelve hours. This last time it was a cat.” He hesitated again and shrugged. “That's it; somehow you caught it. I still don't see how-”
“Who hired you?” It was Jeff's voice; Jeff's glasses were in his pocket, and his tone was shrill.
Tim Connor replied promptly as he kept an uneasy eye on Jeff. “Man named Dave Richman.”
Jeff looked at Johnny, who shook his head. “Never heard of him. It figures. This kind of thing filters down from five or six removes away from the operator like Connor here. With a lot of time and trouble and money you might be able to trace it back. You might. There's a better way.”
“There's a way to do it right!” Jeff said it between his teeth, and then his shoulders slumped tiredly and he turned away. “All right; I said it before. Do it your way. Get him out of here.”
Johnny nodded. “You heard the man, Tim. Get lost.” The big man needed no second invitation. With a careful eye on Jeff he sidled to the door and eased himself out into the waiting room. Johnny stepped into the doorway to make sure he kept on going, and he smiled at Jeff as he stepped back inside. “He hit just about three of the high spots on the way across the room.”
“I shouldn't have let him get away with it,” Jeff said leadenly. The fingers of the hand that traced the lean jawline trembled visibly. “Those helpless animals-”
“You did it right, Jeff. You were vulnerable. Still are, until you rivet this down. This is what you want to do-call up… Say, are you listening?”
“I'm listening. Go ahead.”
“Call up your landlord and tell him to send this lawyer around, that you want to talk to him. But do it fast, before this gets back to him. He'll think you want to settle. When you get him in here, the first thing you do is bounce his tail a foot off the floor. Then you tell him about Tim Connor and Dave Richman like you had them stuffed in your hip pocket. Tell him they've blown the whistle on the whole racket. Tell him that the next thing that goes wrong around this place you're comin' after him and nail his ears to the nearest telephone pole. Can you do that?”
“My pleasure, believe me.” Jeff drew a shallow breath. “How can I ever thank you, Johnny? I'm just beginning to realize I'm out from under this nightmare.”
“You're not out till you muzzle this lawyer,” Johnny pointed out. “If you don't make him think he's a hostage he's just going to try something else.” He stooped to pick up the carrying case. “You know who you should really thank? White stuff here.”
“The kitten?”
“It was a kitten Connor-or Morton-sent in, wasn't it?”
Jeff's eyes widened. “A white Persian!”
“Sure. It was supposed to be this one. It came to me while I was listenin' to Connor bellow outside. I intercepted Sassy here one step short of her being turned over to Connor's partner. She was earmarked for here. When the delivery broke down they had to get a replacement.”
Jeff Landry ran a finger lightly across the front of the wire mesh, and Sassy's pink nose followed it interestedly. “Eight lives left, little one. You don't look worried. Johnny, she has a gold lifetime pass around this place, and I hope she never needs it.” He put out his hand, and Johnny took it.
“Glad it worked out, Jeff.”
“So am I, Johnny. So am I.”
On the street Johnny was surprised to find a light rain falling. He walked up to the corner and caught a westbound cab just when he began to think he was going to have to start walking. In the cab he ran up the windows and took Sassy out of her carrying case. She seemed delighted to see him; she frisked around his feet on the floor and made several brisk, stinging sorties up his shins and thighs. He had difficulty getting her back in the case when they reached the hotel.
He walked down the alley and in through the subbasement entrance and rang for the service elevator. While waiting he removed his shirt and draped it over the black plastic case. When the elevator door opened Johnny got aboard, and Charlie, a wizened gnome with a facial tic who operated the service elevator on the middle shift, nodded grudgingly. He glanced at the shirt-covered case in Johnny's hand as the elevator started up. “What'cha got there, John?”
“King cobra. Take a look?”
“Pass. Knowin' you, it could be.”
They rode in silence to the sixth floor, and in his own room Johnny unlatched the drop-down front of the case. Sassy crept out cautiously, took a long look around and with tail aloft and four white paws twinkling galloped to the refrigerator, where she crouched expectantly. Johnny smiled, then remembered the diet list. He slapped his pockets experimentally, pulled it out and studied it. He glanced down at the vigilant kitten. “I got a feelin' you're not gonna approve of this, baby doll.”
He took down two of Sassy's saucers and fixed one of milk and one of water. With one eye cocked sideways at him from above the newspaper he spread, Sassy took a dozen halfhearted laps at the milk, and then sat back on her haunches and looked at him reproachfully.
“The man says liquids for another twenty-four hours,” Johnny apologized to her. “Then lean meat, and not too much of it.”
The kitten wrinkled her nose at the proposal; when she saw that nothing else was to be forthcoming she returned to the milk. Johnny watched her for a moment, then stripped the bed. He kicked off his shoes and stretched out with a sigh. He tried to blank out his mind; he could use a little sleep.
On the floor below him Sassy came back into his line of vision, walking toward him with her short, mincing steps. With no visible effort she floated upward and landed on the bed beside him, settled down in the circle of his arm and curled herself up into a tight little ball. From the small body there came a deep, purring sound; Johnny lifted his head from the pillow to look down at her. “Shut off your motor, white stuff.” He dropped back to the pillow-and oblivion.
The telephone jarred him awake; he grabbed at it. “Yeah?”
“Eleven-thirty, Johnny.”
“Thanks, Edna.” He yawned, stretched and rubbed his eyes. He had slept either too long or not long enough. He couldn't wake up. He sat up on the edge of the bed finally, then reluctantly propelled himself into the shower. The cold water helped; on the way down to the lobby he tried to recall when he had eaten last. His backbone and ribs felt too close together.
He walked on out through the foyer to the street; Forty-fifth Street's neon complement of lights glowed mistily in the rain that was now a steady downpour. He had a double order of ham and eggs and three cups of black coffee at the greasy spoon four doors up the street, and he felt almost awake when he returned to the lobby.
Marty Seiden waved at him from the front desk, and Johnny returned the wave and then pulled up short. He walked over to the desk, and Marty looked up at him expectantly. “I hear you got a letch for the blonde on the
