The Mike Hammer Collection

disappointment in her eyes from all the way across the pool when I came out, but the line had to be drawn someplace.

Laura gave me a look of mock disgust and patted the grass next to her. When I squatted down I took out the photo of Gerald Erlich and passed it over. “Take a look, honey. Have you ever seen that face in any of your husband’s effects?”

She studied it, her eyes squinting in the sun, and when she had made sure she handed it back. “No, I never have. Who is he?”

“His name used to be Gerald Erlich. He was a trained espionage agent working for the Nazis during the war.”

“But what did he have to do with Leo?”

“I don’t know,” I told her. “His name has been coming up a little too often to be coincidental.”

“Mike—” She bit her lip, thinking, then: “I have Leo’s effects in the house. Do you think you might find something useful in them? They might make more sense to you than they do to me.”

“It sure won’t hurt to look.” I held out my hand to help her up and that was as far as I got. The radio between us suddenly burst apart almost spontaneously and slammed backward into the pool.

I gave her a shove that threw her ten feet away, rolled the other way and got to my feet running like hell for the west side of the house. It had to have been a shot and from the direction the radio skidded I could figure the origin. It had to be a silenced blast from a pistol because a rifle would have had either Laura or me with no trouble at all. I skirted the trees, stopped and listened, and from almost directly ahead I heard a door slam and headed for it wishing I had kept the .45 on me and to hell with Pat. The bushes were too thick to break through so I had to cut down the driveway, the gravel crunching under my feet. I never had a chance. All I saw was the tail end of a dark blue Buick Special pulling away to make a turn that hid it completely.

And now the picture was coming out a little clearer. It hadn’t been a tired driver on the Thruway at all. The bastard had picked me up at Duck’s stand, figured he had given me something when he had handed me the paper, probably hired a car the same time I did with plenty of time to do it in since I wasn’t hurrying at all. He followed me until he was sure he knew where I was headed and waited me out.

Damn. It was too close. But what got me was, how many silenced shots had he fired before hitting that radio? He had been too far away for accurate shooting apparently, but he could have been plunking them all around us hoping for a hit until he got the radio. Damn!

And I was really important. He knew where I was heading. Even since I had started to operate I had had a tail on me and it had almost paid off for him. But if I were important dead, so was Laura, because now that killer could never be sure I hadn’t let her in on the whole business. Another damn.

She stood over the wreckage of the portable she had fished from the pool, white showing at the corners of her mouth. Her hands trembled so that she clasped them in front of her and she breathed as though she had done the running, not me. Breathlessly, she said, “Mike—what was it? Please, Mike—”

I put my arm around her shoulder and with a queer sob she buried her face against me. When she looked up she had herself under control. “It was a shot, wasn’t it?”

“That’s right. A silenced gun.”

“But—”

“It’s the second time he’s tried for me.”

“Do you think—”

“He’s gone for now,” I said.

“But who was he?”

“I think he was The Dragon, sugar.”

For a few seconds she didn’t answer, then she turned her face up toward mine. “Who?”

“Nobody you know. He’s an assassin. Up until now his record has been pretty good. He must be getting the jumps.”

“My gracious, Mike, this is crazy! It’s absolutely crazy.”

I nodded in agreement. “You’ll never know, but now we have a real problem. You’re going to need protection.”

“Me!”

“Anybody I’m close to is in trouble. The best thing we can do is call the local cops.”

She gave me a dismayed glance. “But I can’t—I have to be in Washington—Oh, Mike!”

“It won’t be too bad in the city, kid, but out here you’re too alone.”

Laura thought about it, then shrugged. “I suppose you’re right. After Leo was killed the police made me keep several guns handy. In fact, there’s one in each room.”

“Can you use them?”

Her smile was wan. “The policeman you met the last time showed me.”

“Swell, but what about out here?”

“There’s a shotgun in the corner of the bathhouse.”

“Loaded?”

“Yes.”

“A shotgun isn’t exactly a handgun.”

“Leo showed me how to use it. We used to shoot skeet together at the other end of the property.”

“Police protection would still be your best bet.”

“Can it be avoided?”

“Why stick your neck out?”

“Because from now on I’m going to be a very busy girl, Mike. Congress convenes this week and the race is on for hostess of the year.”

“That stuff is a lot of crap.”

“Maybe, but that’s what Leo wanted.”

“So he’s leaving a dead hand around.”

There was a hurt expression on her face. “Mike—I did love him. Please . . .?”

“Sorry, kid. I don’t have much class. We bat in different leagues.”

She touched me lightly, her fingers cool. “Perhaps not. I think we are really closer than you realize.”

I grinned and squeezed her hand, then ran my palm along the soft swell of her flanks.

Laura smiled and said, “Are you going to—do anything about that shot?”

“Shall I?”

“It’s up to you. This isn’t my league now.”

I made the decision quickly. “All right, we’ll keep it quiet. If that slob has any sense he’ll know we won’t be stationary targets again. From now on I’ll be doing some hunting myself.”

“You sure, Mike?”

“I’m sure.”

“Good. Then let’s go through Leo’s effects.”

Inside she led me upstairs past the bedrooms to the end of the hall, opened a closet and pulled out a small trunk. I took it from her, carried it into the first bedroom and dumped the contents out on the dresser.

When you thought about it, it was funny how little a man actually accumulated during the most important years of his life. He could go through a whole war, live in foreign places with strange people, be called upon to do difficult and unnatural work, yet come away from those years with no more than he could put in a very small trunk.

Leo Knapp’s 201 file was thick, proper and as military as could be. There was an attempt at a diary that ran into fifty pages, but the last third showed an obvious effort being made to overcome boredom, then the thing dwindled out. I went through every piece of paperwork there was, uncovering nothing, saving the photos until last.

Laura left me alone to work uninterruptedly, but the smell of her perfume was there in the room and from somewhere downstairs I could hear her talking on the phone. She was still tense from the experience outside and although I couldn’t hear her conversation I could sense the strain in her voice. She came back in ten minutes later and sat on the edge of the bed, quiet, content just to be there, then she sighed and I knew the tension had gone out of her.