The Big Kill

At least I tried to tell myself that it was.

I said it over and over to myself the same way I told Pat, but I couldn't get it out of my mind that some place something didn't fit. It was only a little thing, but it's the little things that hold bigger things together. I sat there and told myself that it was Toady who drove the murder car and Toady who gave the orders to Arnold Basil because he couldn't afford to trust anybody else to do the job right. I told myself that it was Toady who engineered Hooker's death and tried to engineer mine.

Yet the more I told myself the more that little voice inside my head would laugh and poke its finger into some forgotten recess and try to jar loose one fact that would make me see what the picture was really like.

I gave up in disgust, paid my bill and walked out.

I walked right into trouble, too. Pat was slouched up against the wall outside my apartment with the friendliness gone completely from his face.

He didn't even give me a chance to say hello. He held out his hand with an abruptness I wasn't used to. 'Let's have your gun, Mike.'

I didn't argue with him. He packed it open, checked the chamber and the slide, then smelled the barrel.

'You already know when I shot it last,' I said.

'I do?' It didn't sound like a question at all.

It started down low around my belly, that squeamish feeling when something is right there ready to pop in your face. 'Quit being a jerk. What's the act for?'

He came away from the door frame with a scowl. 'Goddamn it, Mike, play it straight if you have to play it at all!'

I said a couple of words.

'You've had it, Mike,' he told me. He put it flat and simple as if I knew just what he meant.

'You could tell me about it.'

'Look, Mike, I'm a cop. You were my friend and all that, but I'm not getting down on my knees to anybody. I did everything but threaten you to lay off and what happened? You did it your way anyhow. It doesn't go, feller. It's finished, washed up. I hated to see it happen, but it was just a matter of time. I thought you were smart enough to understand. I was wrong.'

'That isn't telling me about it.'

'Cut it, Mike. Toady's dead., He was shot with a .45,' he said.

'And I'm tagged.'

'That's right,' Pat nodded. 'You're tagged.'

Chapter Eight

Sometimes you get mad and sometimes you don't. If there was any of that crazy anger in me it had all been drained out up there in Ellen's apartment. Now it's making sense, I thought. Now it's where it should be.

Pat dropped my gun in his pocket. 'Let's go, Mike.'

So I went as far as the front door and watched the rain wash through under the sill. Before Pat opened the door I said, 'You're sure about this, aren't you?'

He was sure. Two minutes ago he had been as sure of it as the day he was born and now he wasn't sure of it at all. His mouth hardened into a gash that pushed his eyes halfway shut with some uncontrollable emotion until they seemed to focus on something right behind me.

I didn't want him to answer me before he knew. 'I didn't kill him, Pat. I was hoping I would, but somebody beat me to it.'

'The M.E. sets the time of death around four o'clock last night.' His voice asked for an explanation.

I said, 'You should have told me, Pat. I was real busy then. Real busy.'

His hand came away from the door. 'You mean you can prove it?'

'I mean just that.'

'Mike... if you're lying...'

'I've never been that stupid. You ought to know that.'

'I ought to know a lot of things. I ought to know where you were every minute of last night.'

'You know how to find out.'

'Show me.'

I didn't like the way he was looking at me at all. Maybe I'm not so good at lying any more, and I was lying my head off. Last night I was busy as hell sleeping and there wasn't one single way I could prove it. If I tried to tell him the truth it would take a month to talk my way clear.

I said, 'Come on,' and headed for the phone in the lobby. I shoved a dime in the slot and dialed a number, hoping that I could put enough across with a few words to say what I wanted. He stood right there at my elbow ready to take the phone away as soon as I got my party and ask the question himself.

I couldn't mistake her voice. It was like seeing her again with the lava green of her dress flowing from her waist.

'This is Mike, Marsha. A policeman... wants to ask you something. Mind?'

That was as far as I could get. Pat had the phone while she was still trying to figure it out. He gave me a hard smile and turned to the phone. 'Captain Chambers speaking. I understand you can account for Mr. Hammer's