The Mike Hammer Collection

“Where, Mr. Hammer?”

“In the city.”

He perched on the edge of the chair and frowned. “She . . . does intend to come back here?”

“Maybe.”

His face hardened then. It was a face that had an expression I had seen a thousand times in courtrooms. It became a prosecuting attorney’s face who suddenly found himself with a hostile witness and was determined to drag out the right answers the hard way.

Torrence said, “Perhaps I don’t understand your concern in this matter.”

“Perhaps not. First, let me tell you that it’s by accident that I’m here at all. Sue was sort of taken in hand by my secretary and I made a promise to look into things before letting her return.”

“Oh?” He looked down into his hands. “You are . . . qualified for this matter then?”

The wallet worked its magic again and the hostility faded from his face. His expression was serious, yet touched with impatience. “Then please get to the point, Mr. Hammer. I’ve worried enough about Sue so . . .”

“It’s simple enough. The kid says she’s scared stiff of you.”

A look of pain flitted across his eyes. He held up his hand to stop me, nodded, and looked toward the window. “I know, I know. She says I killed her mother.”

He caught me a little off base. When he looked around once more I said, “That’s right.”

“May I explain something?”

“I wish somebody would.”

Torrence settled back in his chair, rubbing his face with one hand. His voice was flat, as though he had gone through the routine countless times before. “I married Sally Devon six months after her husband died. Sue was less than a year old at the time. I had known Sally for years then and it was like . . . well, we were old friends. What I didn’t know was that Sally had become an alcoholic. In the first years of our marriage she grew worse in spite of everything we tried to do. Sally took to staying at my place in the Catskills with an old lady for a housekeeper, refusing to come into the city, refusing any help . . . just drinking herself to death. She kept Sue with her although it was old Mrs. Lee who really took care of the child. One night she drank herself into a stupor, went outside into the bitter cold for something, and passed out. She was unconscious when Mrs. Lee found her and dead before either a doctor or I could get to her. For some reason the child thinks I had something to do with it.”

“She says her mother told her something before she died.”

“I know that too. She can’t recall anything, but continues to make the charge against me.” He paused and rubbed his temples. “Sue has been a problem. I’ve tried the best schools and let her follow her own desires but nothing seems to help matters any. She wants to be a showgirl like her mother was.” He looked up at me slowly. “I wish I knew the answer.”

This time I was pretty direct. “She says you’re trying to kill her.”

His reaction was one of amazement. “What?” Very slowly he came to the edge of his seat. “What’s that?”

“A car tried to run her down, she was deliberately followed, and somebody took a shot at her.”

“Are you sure?”

“I am about the last time. I was there when it happened.” I didn’t bother giving him any of the details.

“But . . . why haven’t I heard . . .?”

“Because it involved another matter too. In time you’ll hear about it. Not now. Just let’s say it happened.”

For the first time his courtroom composure left him. He waved his hands like a lost person and shook his head.

I said, “Mr. Torrence, do you have any enemies?”

“Enemies?”

“That’s right.”

“I . . . don’t think so.” He reflected a moment and went on. “Political enemies, perhaps. There are two parties and . . .”

“Would they want to kill you?” I interrupted.

“No . . . certainly not. Disagree, but that’s all.”

“What about women?” I asked bluntly.

He paid no attention to my tone. “Mr. Hammer . . . I haven’t kept company with a woman since Sally died. This is a pretty well-known fact.”

I looked toward the door meaningfully. “You keep pretty company.”

“Geraldine King was assigned to me by our state chairman. She has been with me through three political campaigns. Between times she works with others in the party running for office.”

“No offense,” I said. “But how about other possibles? Could you have made any special enemies during your political career?”

“Again, none that I know of who would want to kill me.”

“You were a D.A. once.”

“That was twenty-some years ago.”

“So go back that far.”

Torrence shrugged impatiently. “There were a dozen threats, some made right in the courtroom. Two attempts that were unsuccessful.”

“What happened?”

“Nothing,” he said. “Police routine stopped the action. Both persons were apprehended and sent back to prison. Since then both have died, one of T.B., the other of an ulcer.”

“You kept track of them?”

“No, the police did. They thought it best to inform me. I wasn’t particularly worried.”

“Particularly?”

“Not for myself. For Sue and anyone else, yes. Personally, my recourse is to the law and the police. But remember this, Mr. Hammer, it isn’t unusual for a District Attorney to be a target. There was a man named Dewey the mobs could have used dead, but to kill him would have meant that such pressure would be brought on organized crime that when Dutch Schultz wanted to kill him the Mob killed Dutch instead. This is a precarious business and I realize it. At the same time, I won’t alter my own philosophies by conforming to standards of the scared.”

“How often have you been scared?”

“Often. And you?”

“Too often, buddy.” I grinned at him and he smiled back slowly, his eyes showing me he knew what I meant.

“Now about Sue.”

“I’ll speak to her.”

“You’ll bring her home?”

“That’s up to Sue. I’ll see what she says. Supposing she won’t come?”

Torrence was silent a moment, thinking. “That’s up to her then. She’s a . . . child who isn’t a child. Do you know what I mean?”

“Uh-huh.”

He nodded. “She’s well provided for financially and frankly, I don’t see what else I can do for her. I’m at a point where I need advice.”

“From whom?”

His eyes twinkled at me. “Perhaps from you, Mr. Hammer.” “Could be.”

“May I ask your status first?”

“I hold a very peculiar legal authorization. At the moment it allows me to do damn near anything I want to. Within reason, of course.”

“For how long?”

“You’re quick, friend.” He nodded and I said, “Until somebody cuts me out of it or I make a mistake.”

“Oh?”