'More than one, buddy, and we're not concentrating any on your old pal. From now on we'll be going after the biggest and the best for one reason only ... to give the papers all the hot news they can handle so maybe they'll skip over this latest incident. We're in trouble, Mike.'
'Never changes. There's always trouble.'
'And I don't need any with you.'
I handed him the insurance papers and note Heidi had given me. He glanced at them and handed them back, his face masked with total astonishment. 'By damn, you land right in the middle of the biggest mess we've ever had and all you want is a passkey to some broad's tail. Man, you never change! You damn horny ...'
'Lay off, Pat. I could have had that for free yesterday.'
'Then why ...'
'It'll keep you off my back if for no other reason.'
'For that I'll do anything. Look, take every one of those wallets and give them back personally. It won't be
hard to arrange at all. Then go get drunk or shack up for a week or get lost in the mountains ... just anything at all!'
'My pleasure,' I said.
He slammed his hand down on his knee with a disgusted gesture and shut up again. But he meant what he said. He packaged the whole lot for me, had me sign for each item and let me leave so he could handle all the traffic that was beginning to jam the room.
Outside, I set my watch with the clock in a jeweler's window. It was a quarter to eleven. The night was clear and an offshore breeze had blown the smog inland. You could see some of the stars that were able to shine through the reflected glow of the city lights. Traffic was thin downtown, but up farther, New York would be coming to life. Or death, whichever way you looked at it. For me, I couldn't care less because it had always been that way anyway. At least the little episode with all the forces of national and international governments had bought me the same thing it had bought them .. time. Everybody would be too busy to be clawing at my back now. I grinned silently and flagged down a cruising cab.
Finero's Steak House was jammed with the after-theater crowd, a noisy bunch three deep around the bar and a couple dozen others waiting patiently in the lobby for a table. I waved the maitre d' over, told him all I wanted was to see Ballinger and he let the velvet rope down so I could go in.
He was like something out of a late-late movie, sitting there flanked by two full-blown blondes in dresses cut so low they seemed more like stage costumes than evening wear. His tux was the latest style, but on him it was all eyewash because he was still the dock-type hood and no tailor was ever going to change him. One of the blondes kept feeling his five o'clock shadow and murmuring about his virility. The other was doing something else and Ballinger was enjoying the mutual attention. The others respectfully ignored the play, paying due attention to their own dates. The original pair were there, but a new one had been added, a punk named Larry Beers who had been a
This time Woody put on an act for everybody's benefit.
I got a big smile, an introduction to the girls whose names all sounded alike, the pair named Carl and Sammy, but when he came to Larry Beers I said, 'We've met,' His handshake was very wary. 'Been a long time Larry.
'Let's make it longer the next time.'
'Why not?'
Ballinger gave me a big smile that was all snake with the fangs out, his heavy-lidded eyes asking for trouble. 'Join us, Hammer?'
'Not tonight, Woody. I got better things to do.'
'Ah, come on, I'll get you a broad and ...'
'I'm a leg man, myself,' I said.
The blonde on his left stuck her tongue out at me. 'I have those too, you know.'
'I hope so. It's just that I enjoy a certain style and design.'
She laughed and put both her hands on the table. Woody seemed annoyed at the sudden attention I was getting and let his smile fade. 'You want something?'
I reached in my pocket, took out his wallet and tossed it on the table. 'Just saving some embarrassment by having you go down and get it. Seems funny, an old pro like you letting a dip grab his poke. You do what I asked you?'
He was too happy to know I was leaving not to answer me. He stuck the wallet back in his pocket without looking at it and said, 'Not yet, but soon.'
'Real soon, okay?'
I looked at them all briefly, remembering their faces, nodded and went back to the street. I could feel Woody Ballinger's eyes boring into my back all the way.
On the way to the East Side I stopped in a gin mill on Sixth Avenue and put in a call to Velda at her apartment. I let the phone ring a dozen times, but there was no answer. I tried the office too in case she decided to work late. Same thing. The answering service for my apartment number told me there had been no calls for me at all. I wasn't about to worry about her. She had a P.I. ticket and a nasty little .32 hammerless automatic to go with it and when the chips were down she could take care of herself. Right now she probably was following orders, purse swinging with the come-on look in Lippy's neighborhood, seeing how the other half lived.
Near-midnight callers on actress tenants mustn't have seemed unusual to the doorman. He was the same one who had admitted me earlier and when I asked him if he ever slept he chuckled and said, 'Changed shifts with
Barney. He's courting and the night work was ruining his love life. You want to see Miss Anders, go right up. She got in a little while ago and for her it's like the middle of the afternoon.' He gave me a knowing look and added, 'You want I should call her?'
'Give her a buzz. Hammer's the name.
'Yes, sir.' He plugged in the jack, flipped the toggle twice and waited. Then: 'Miss Anders, I have a Mr. Hammer ...'
Her voice, ringing with that odd quality that could carry right through a phone, came right over his, but this time with a hurried urgency that seemed to have a catch in it. 'Yes, please, send him right up.'
The doorman hung up and made a wry face at me. 'Funny broad, that.'
'How come?'
'Any guy she can get, but always picks the wrong ones who give her a hard time. Like tonight she comes home, eyes all red, sniffling and jumpy. You'd think she'd blow this coop and start over somewheres.'
'The mortality rate is pretty high in show business. Those dames can attract some oddballs.'
'Yeah, but no reason to. They're just people same as anybody else. They got a face and a body and you'd think they'd make out okay, but this one is always miserable. It's a wonder she'll even speak to a guy any more. A big star, plenty of money and always down in the dumps. Me, I'm plain glad to be what I am.'
'I know the feeling,' I said.
This tune I didn't have to touch the bell. The door was cracked and she was waiting for me, a pert thing with crazy ash-blonde hair, belted into a sheer black housecoat that clung so magically to all the curves and hollows that it seemed like she didn't have anything on at all.
But she wasn't quite as pretty as the last time. Her eyes were too red and feverish looking. The nervousness was more acute and the smile she gave me was strained to its limit. She swallowed with a tiny, jerky motion of her head and reached for my sleeve. 'Come in, Mike. Please come in. I guess you must think Fm awfully strange to be having guests so late, but it's really nothing for me. Nothing at all.' She tried a laugh on as she shut the door and took my hat. It had a hollow, flat sound. 'You'll have to excuse me if I'm not at my best. It's just that. . . well, I imagine everyone has personal problems and ...'
'Don't let it bother you, honey.'
Heidi Anders' fingers squeezed hard on my arm and she nibbled gently on her lower lip. Something like a shudder ran through her, then she tugged and let me feel the warmth of her body beside me as she took me into
