'That's just what,' said Mendoza. 'We've got to get this boy, Jack, and the sooner the better. I've got a hunch he's holed up somewhere inside that area, and I want a thorough hunt. Leave the rest of the citizenry to its own devices awhile, and haul in some men off tour. I can't make rules for your department, but everybody in this office is working round the clock as from now. Maybe you saw the afternoon headlines too.'
Fletcher laughed shortly. 'I did. The citizenry! It's been told often enough, by a lot of people who should know, it's got one damn good police force, but let a thing like this come along, you'd think we're a bunch of morons, way they talk.'
'Some people,' said Mendoza, 'just naturally think we've got to be morons, to be cops in the iirst place. Sometimes I almost agree with them.' And he thought, If Art died…
Fletcher rubbed his jaw. 'Use your phone,' he said, and it wasn't a request. He used it, ruthlessly, for ten minutes. When he put it down for the last time he said, 'God help the innocent citizenry tonight. And bless the Hollywood boys-they can pull men off a lot of nice genteel places where nothing ever happens, without much danger
… Crews of twenty cars to report in within fifteen minutes, that's thirty-six men. Another twenty called in from stationary traffic duty, and God help the drivers at downtown intersections. Lessee, it's four-forty. Call it five o'clock for briefing. Where?'
'Your sergeants' office. I want every man issued with extra ammo,' said Mendoza. 'I know our Slasher isn't on the Most Wanted list-not on any list, his prints unknown-but he's the hell of a dangerous boy. We don't want any more casualties, do we?'
'I'll see to it,' said Fletcher briefly. 'O.K., twenty minutes.' He went out.
'We're going to be fairly busy for quite a while,' said Mendoza. 'Maybe you'd all better snatch a sandwich or something while you can.' Dwyer and Scarne drifted out after Fletcher. The outside phone rang and Mendoza picked it up… 'Yes, querida,' he said. Palliser watched him for a moment, saw he wasn't getting any bad news, and went out unobtrusively.
'They said he's been restless. They seem to think-it might be a sign that he'll be conscious soon. I-oh, damn,' said Alison. 'I know they're doing all they can, and-and they know so much more now, but they're so horribly impersonal about it. That afternoon nurse-they've got specials on, you know-talking about the patient this and the patient that when it's Art.'
'I know,' said Mendoza. 'Just how they are, amante. All in the day's work to them.'
Alison said forlornly, 'She's a Seventh-Day Adventist. She gave us some Improving Literature to read, about vegetarian diets. Well, she seems kind enough, but-”
'Yes, darling. What about Angel? I said she ought to see her own doctor.'
'Yes, he gave her some tranquilizers but she won't take them. Luis. Did you mean what you said-about r- resigning? I don't know what you'd do. I don't know-'
' No se preocupe,' said Mendoza. He thought, Have to borrow a gun somewhere. He couldn't go home for his own. 38 in the handkerchief drawer, the shoulder holster, or Alison would know…
'-Luis?'
'No,' he said. 'I won't be home. We've got a little project on down here. It's expect me when you see me, I'm afraid.'
'Yes,' said Alison. A little silence, and then she said, 'It's just, it feels as if everything's in slow motion, somehow. That it's days since I've seen you, and-everything taking so long to happen-Luis-'
'Yes,” he said. 'It does feel rather like that.'
'Mairi says to tell you to get a proper dinner somewhere.' Alison uttered a little laugh.
'I will if I have time.'
'And El Senor broke that jardiniere you don't like. The green one the Mawsons gave us for a wedding present. He knocked it over quite deliberately--'
'?Senor Comedido!' said Mendoza. 'How tactful of him… I don't know when I'll see you, amante. Take care… ' He put the phone down and said to Sergeant Lake, 'Get me a gun somewhere, will you? And a cup of coffee if you can.'
'See what I can do,' said Lake, and got up. In the doorway he collided with Lieutenant Goldberg of Burglary, just coming in.
EIGHTEEN
'Well, and what can we do for you, Saul?' asked Mendoza. Goldberg asked first about Hackett and shook his head at the latest report. 'It's more the other way around, I'm afraid. I just thought it'd be neighborly to mention it, in case anything does happen.'
'Make it short, we've got quite a night's project mapped 0ut.'
'Well,' said Goldberg, 'there was a break-in last night at a gunsmith's shop over on Spring. Quite a lot of stuff gone, and-'
'Your problem,' said Mendoza.
'It could turn into yours. I don't like it,' said Goldberg. 'All they took was guns-and the hell of a lot of ammo for them. There was other valuable stuff there-he had a color TV in the back room he was keeping for his wife's birthday, and he does a side line in transistor radios, there were about twenty of those. And he'd left a few bucks in the register. Well, the first thing a burglar looks for is cash, usually. But all somebody, or several somebodies, was interested in, was guns. We've been all round the suspected fences and pawnbrokers today, and not a smell has turned up. Which makes it look as if whoever the somebodies were, they just wanted guns-as guns.'
'Oh,” said Mendoza. 'I begin not to like it too. My God, on top of-'
'Listen to the list,' said Goldberg, unfolding a sheet of paper. 'They or whoever took an old Springfield. 22 rifle, a Ruger Standard Single-Six. 22, an S. and W.. 357 Magnum, a. 38 CoIt Trooper, an Iver-Johnson Supershot. 22, a Whitney Lightning. 22 automatic, and three of the gunsmith's own target revolvers-he's a pro shot-a CoIt Python. 357 Magnum, a CoIt Cfficers' Match Model. 38 revolver, and an S. and W. Target. 45. And about twenty rounds of ammo for all nine guns.'
'?Santa Maria! ' said Mendoza. 'Is he starting a little private war?'
'That may be too close for comfort,' said Goldberg soberly. 'Tell you what just crossed my mind-a gang of juveniles. Planning a rumble with something new added.'
'?Por Dios! And you could be right,' said Mendoza. 'God, on top of all the rest of this- We can only hope, if that's so, the rumble isn't planned for tonight. Thanks for the warning, anyway.'
'I could be just woolgathering,' said Goldberg, sneezing and groping for the inevitable Kleenex. 'Just thought you ought to know. All but one of them handguns, you know, and all that ammo-'
'Yes indeed.'
Sergeant Lake came back and handed Mendoza a. 38 Police Special, a shoulder holster, and a box of ammunition.
'Hey, what's up?” said Goldberg. 'You never pack a gun unless it's something damn serious.'
'I think,' said Mendoza, taking off his jacket, 'we're on damn serious business tonight, Saul.'
Nobody else thought so for quite a while. Dwyer said to Scarne, 'Work our tails off on an all-night job, just because he gets a wild hunch! There's nothing to say the Slasher's holed up in that area. Why just that area?'
'First cast,' said Scarne gloomily, 'I guess.'
'My God, sure, we sweat it out all night and don't find him because he's a block outside the line our Luis drew on the map!'
But Mendoza was the one who gave the orders. They set it up, with the fifty-six men from Traffic and those available in the homicide office-Dwyer, Scarne, Palliser, Piggott, Landers-and Higgins and Galeano would be in later.
There were some residential streets in the area they were covering, but more of it was business. The
