The Mike Hammer Collection

There wasn’t much we could say. That would take time, but now we had all the time in the world. She looked at me, talking through those crazy eyes, then her expression went soft and a frown made small creases across her forehead. Her fingers went out and touched my face and the white edge of her teeth went into her lip.

“Mike . . .?”

“It’s okay, baby.”

“You’re not . . . hurt?”

I shook my head. “Not anymore.”

“There’s something about you now . . . I can’t quite tell what . . .”

“Seven years, Velda,” I interrupted. “It was downhill all the way until I found out you were still alive. It leaves marks, but none that can’t be wiped out.”

Her eyes blurred under tears that came too quickly to control. “Mike darling . . . I couldn’t reach you. It was all too impossible and big . . .”

“I know it, kid. You don’t have to explain.”

Her hair swirled in a dark arc when she shook her head. “But I do.”

“Later.”

“Now.” Her fingers touched my mouth to silence me and I let them. “It took seven years to learn a man’s secret and escape Communist Europe with information that will keep us equal or better than they are. I know I could have . . . gotten away earlier . . . but I had to make a choice.”

“You made the right one.”

“There was no way to tell you.”

“I know it.”

“Truly . . .”

“I understand, kitten.”

She wouldn’t listen. Her voice was softly insistent, almost pleading. “I could have, Mike. I know I could have some way, but I couldn’t afford the chance. There were millions of lives at stake.” She paused a second, then pulled my cheek against hers. “I know how you must have felt, thinking you had me killed. I thought of it so often I nearly went out of my mind, but I still couldn’t have changed things.”

“Forget it,” I told her.

“What did happen to you, Mike?”

She pushed away, holding me at arm’s length to study me.

“I got to be a drunk,” I said.

“You?”

“Me, kitten.”

Her expression was one of curious bewilderment. “But when I told them . . . they had to find you . . . only you could do it . . .”

“One mentioned your name and I changed, honey. When you came alive again, so did I.”

“Oh, Mike . . .”

As big as she was, I picked her up easily, kissed her again, and took her across the room to the gaudy mohair couch that nestled in the bay of an airshaft window. She quivered against me, smiled when I laid her down, then pulled my mouth to hers with a desperation that told me of the loneliness of seven years and the gnawing wanting inside her now.

Finally she said, “I’m a virgin, Mike.”

“I know.”

“I’ve always waited for you. It’s been a pretty long wait.”

I grinned down at her. “I was crazy to make you wait.”

“And now?”

Then I wasn’t grinning anymore. She was all mine whenever I wanted her, a big, beautiful animal of a woman who loved me and was ready to be taken now, now. Even touching was a painful emotion and the fire that had been dormant was one I didn’t want to put out.

I said, “Can you wait a little bit more?”

“Mike?” There was a quick hurt in her eyes, then the question.

“Let’s do it right, kitten. Always I do the wrong things. Let’s make this one right.” Before she could answer I said, “Don’t argue. Don’t even talk about it. We do it, that’s all, then we can explode into a million pieces. We do the bit at City Hall with the license and do it right.”

Velda smiled back impishly, the happiness of knowing what I wanted plain in her face. “That really doesn’t matter,” she told me. “First I want you. Now. More than ever.”

“Crazy broad,” I said, then fought her mouth with mine, knowing we were both going to win. My hand drifted across the satiny expanse of her naked shoulder, feeling the minute trembling throughout her body. She twisted so she pressed against me, moaning softly, demanding things we never had from each other.

“Pretty,” he said from the door. “Real pretty.”

I still had the .45 in my belt but I never could have made it. Velda’s convulsive grip around my neck slowed the action enough so that I saw the Police Positive in his hand and didn’t get killed after all. The hammer was back for faster shooting and the look on his face was one I had seen before on other cheap killers and knew that he’d drop me the second he thought I might be trouble.

“Go on, don’t stop,” he said. “I like good shows.”

I made my grin as simpering as I could, rolling away from Velda until I sat perched on the edge of the couch. I was going wild inside and fought to keep my hands dangling at my sides while I tried to look like an idiot caught in the act until I could think my way past this thing.

“I didn’t know there’d be two but it figures a babe like you’d have something going for her.” He nudged the gun toward me. “But why grab off a mutt like this, baby?”

When she spoke from behind me her voice was completely changed. “When I could have had you?”

“That’s the way, baby. I’ve been watching you through that window four days and right now I’m ready. How about that?”

I would have gone for the rod right then, but I felt the pressure of her knee against my back.

“How about that?” Velda repeated.

The guy let out a jerky laugh and looked at me through slitted eyes. “So maybe we’ll make music after all, kid. Just as soon as I dump the mutt here.”

Then I couldn’t keep quiet any longer. “You’re going to have to do it the hard way.”

The gun shifted just enough so it pointed straight at my head. “That’s the way I always do things, mutt.”

He was ready. The gun was tight in his hand and the look was there and he was ready. Velda said, “Once that gun goes off you won’t have me.”

It wasn’t enough. The guy laughed again and nodded. “That’s okay too, baby. This is what I came for anyway.”

“Why?” she asked him.

“Games, baby?” The gun swung gently toward her, then back to me, ready to take either or both of us when he wanted to. I tried to let fear bust through the hate inside me and hoped it showed like that when I slumped a little on the couch. My hand was an inch nearer the .45 now, but still too far away.

“I want the kid, baby, ya know?” he said. “So no games. Trot her out, I take off, and you stay alive.”

“Maybe,” I said.

His eyes roved over me. “Yeah, maybe.” He grinned. “You know something, mutt? You ain’t scared enough. You’re thinking.”

“Why not?”

“Sure, why not? But whatever you think it just ain’t there for you, mutt. This ain’t your day.”

There were only seconds now. He was past being ready and his eyes said it was as good as done and I was dead and he started that final squeeze as Velda and I moved together.

We never would have made it if the door hadn’t slammed open into him and knocked his arm up. The shot went into the ceiling and with a startled yell he spun around toward the two guys in the doorway, dropping as he fired, but the smaller guy got him first with two quick shots in the chest and he started to tumble backwards with