They happened fast, those things. They happen, yet time seems to drag by when there's only a matter of seconds and the first thing you wonder is why nobody has come up to see what was going on, then you look down the road and the car you saw in the distance when it all started still hasn't reached you yet, and although two kids across the street are pointing in your direction, nobody else is.
So I got in the driver's side, sat the two things next to me in an upright position and drove back the way we came. I found a cutoff near the airport, turned into it and followed the road until it became a one-lane drive and when I reached its limit there was a sign that read DEAD END.
I was real cute this time. I sat them both under the sign in a nice, natural position and drove back home. All the way back to the apartment I thought of the slobs who gave me credit for finding both gimmicks in the heap and then suddenly realized I was dumber than they figured and the big one was still there ready to go off any second.
Night had seeped in by the time I reached the apartment. I parked and went up to the apartment, opened the door enough to call in for her to take the chain off, but it wasn't necessary at all.
There was no chain.
There was no Lily either and I could feel that cold feeling crawl up my back again. I walked through the rooms to be sure, hoping I was wrong when I was right. She was gone and everything she owned was gone. There wasn't even a hairpin left to show that she had been there and I was so damned mad my eyes squinted almost shut and I was cursing them, the whole stinking pack of them under my breath, cursing the efficiency of their organization and the power they held in reserve, swearing at the way they were able to do things nobody else could do.
I grabbed the phone and dialed Pat's number. Headquarters told me he had left for the day and I put the call through to his apartment. He said hello and knew something was up the minute he heard my voice. 'Lily Carver, Pat, you know her?'
'Carver? Damn, Mike...'
'I had her here at the apartment and she's gone.' 'Where?'
'How am I supposed to know where! She didn't leave here by herself. Look...'
'Wait up, friend. You have some explaining to do. Did you know she had been investigated?'
'I know the whole story, that's why I pulled her out of Brooklyn. She had the city boys, the feds and another outfit on her back. The last bunch pulled a fast one today and got her out of here somehow.'
'You stuck your neck out on that one.'
'Ah, shut up,' I said. 'If you have a description, pass it around.
She might know what it was the Torn kid was bumped for. His breathing came in heavy over the receiver. 'A pickup went
out on her yesterday, Mike. As far as we knew she disappeared completely. I wish to hell you let me in on the deal.'
'What have you got on her?' I asked him.
'Nothing. At least not now. A stoolie broke the news that she was to be fingered for a kill.'
'Mafia?'
'It checks.' 'Damn,' I said.
'Yeah, I know how you feel.' He paused, then, 'I'll keep looking around. There's big trouble winding up, Mike.'
'That's right.'
'Stuff has been pouring in here.' 'Like what?'
'Like more tough guys seen on the prowl. We picked up one on a Sullivan rap already.'
I grunted. 'That law finally did some good.' 'The word is pretty strong. You know what?' 'What?'
'You keep getting mentioned in the wrong places.'
'Yeah.' I lit up a smoke and pulled in a deep drag. 'This rumble strictly on the quiet between you and me?'
'I told you yes once.'
'Good. Anybody find a pair of bodies propped up against a sign in Queens?'
He didn't say anything right away. Then he whispered huskily,
'I should've figured it. I sure as blazes should've figured it.' 'Well, just don't figure me for your boy. I checked my rod in a few days ago.'
'How'd it happen?'
'It was real cute,' I said. 'Remind me to tell you someday.' 'No wonder the boys are out for you.'
'Yeah,' I said, then I laughed and hung up.
Tonight there'd be more. Maybe a whole lot more.
I stood there and listened and outside the window there was another laugh. The city. The monster. It laughed back at me, but it was the kind of a laugh that didn't sound too sure of itself any more.
Then the phone jangled and the laugh became the muted hum once more as I said hello. The voice I half expected wasn't there. This one was low and soft and just a little bit sad. It said, 'Mike?'
'Speaking.'
'Michael Friday, Mike.'
I could visualize her mouth making the words. A ripe, red mouth, moistly bright, close to the phone and close to mine. I didn't know what to answer her with, except, 'Hi, where are you?'
'Downtown.' She paused for a moment. 'Mike... I'd like to see you again.'
'Really?'
'Really.'
'Why??
'Maybe to talk, Mike. Would you mind?'
'At one time I would. Not any more.'
Her smile must have had the same touch of sadness her voice had just then. 'Perhaps I'm using that for an excuse.' 'I'd like that better,' I said.
'Will you see me then?'
'Just say where and when.'
'Well... one of Carl's friends is giving a party this evening. I'm supposed to be there and if you don't mind... could .we go together? We don't have to stay very long.'
I though about it a minute. I let a lot of things run through my mind, then I said, 'Okay, I don't have anything else on the fire. I'll meet you in the Astor lobby at ten. How's that?'
'Fine, Mike. Shall I wear a red carnation or something so you'll know me?'
'No... just smile, kid. Your mouth is one thing I'll never forget.'
'You've never really got close enough to tell.'
'I can remember how I said good-bye the last time.' 'That isn't really close,' she said as she hung up.
I looked at the phone when I put it down. It was black, symmetrical and efficient. Just to talk to somebody put a thousand little things into operation and the final force of it all culminated in a minor miracle. You never knew or thought about how it happened until it was all over. Black, symmetrical, efficient. It could be a picture of a hand outlined in ink. Their organization was the same and you never knew the details until it was too late.
That's when they'd like me to see the picture.
When it was too late.
How many tries were there now? The first one they spilled me over the cliff. Then there was laughing boy who kept his gun in his pocket. And don't forget the dead-end sign. That one really must have scared them.
The jerks.
And someplace in the city were two others. Charlie Max and Sugar Smallhouse. For a couple of grand they'd fill a guy's belly with lead and laugh about it. They'd buck the biggest organization in the country because theirs was even bigger. They wouldn't give a damn where they scrammed to because wherever they went their protection went too. The name of the Mafia was magic. The color of cash was even bigger magic.
My lips peeled back over my teeth when I thought of them. Maybe now that they knew about the dead-end sign they'd do a little drinking to calm themselves down. Maybe they'd be thinking if they really were good enough after all. Then they'd decide that they were and wait around until it happened and if it came out right in a
