snap back, then put another one into his gut.
This time everything was working right. The guy behind me came off the sidewalk thinking he had me nailed. I didn't want any broken knuckles. I just drove my fist into his neck under his chin and didn't wait to see what would happen. The boy with the sap was still standing there, nose-stunned, blood all over his face, but not out of it at all.
You don't have to waste skin on guys like that at all. I kicked him in the balls and the pain-instinct reaction was so fast he nearly locked onto my foot. His mouth made silent screaming motions and he went down on his knees, his supper foaming out of his mouth.
The doorman was just coming out of it, a lump already growing on the side of his head. 'Can you hear me, Jeff?'
He grimaced, his eyes opened and he nodded. 'That bastard . . .'
'I have them outside. You give the cops a call.'
'Yeah. Damn right.'
The big guy I had rapped in the throat was trying to get away. He was on all fours scratching toward the car at the curb. I took out the .45, let him hear me jack a shell into the chamber and he stopped cold. That old army automatic can have a deadly sound to it. I walked over to him, knelt down and poked the muzzle against his head.
'Who sent you?'
He shook his head.
I thumbed the hammer back. That sound, the double click, was even deadlier.
'We . . . was to . . . rough you up.' His voice was hardly understandable.
'Who sent you?'
His head dropped, spit ran out of his mouth and he shook his head again.
Hell, neither one of them would know anything. Somebody had hired a pair of goons to lay on me, but they would sure have something to say to me about it.
'Why?' I asked him. I kept the tone nasty. I rubbed the gun harder against his temple.
All the big slob had in his eyes was fear. 'You sent . . . the guys . . . a bullet.'
I heard the siren of a squad car coming up Third Avenue. 'How much did they pay you?'
'Five hundred . . . each.'
'Asshole,' I said. I eased the hammer back on half-cock and took the rod away from his head. A grand for a mugging meant the victim would be wary and dangerous and these two slobs never gave it a thought. I gave him a kick in the side and told him to get over beside his buddy. I didn't have to tell him twice.
Wheels squealing, a car turned at the corner and the floodlight hit me while it was still moving. The cameraman came out, rolling videotape, a girl in a flapping trenchcoat right behind him, giving a rapid, detailed description of what was going on into a hand mike, and I even let New York City's own favorite on-the-spot TV team catch me giving the guy another boot just for the hell of it.
When the squad car got there I identified myself, gave my statement and let the doorman fill in the rest. The two guys had waited near the curb nearly an hour, spotted me at the corner, then one came in, grabbed the doorman, waited until the other jumped me and laid a sap on the doorman's head before joining the fun. Luckily, the sweatband of his uniform cap softened the blow. Both the clowns had knives in their pockets along with the old standby brass knuckles and a blackjack. It took one radio call to get an ID on them and they were shoved, handcuffed, into the rear of the car.
Enough of a crowd had collected to make it an interesting spot in the late news coming up and the girl said, 'Any further comment on this, Mr. Hammer?'
At least she remembered my name.
'They just tried to mug the wrong guy,' I said. Then I winked into the lens and walked away.
Upstairs I called Pat, but somebody had already given him a buzz. I ran through the story again, then added, 'It's all coming back to DiCica, buddy. They're making sure I know they're watching.'
'You don't scare them, Mike.'
'If they think I have access to what Anthony had I can sure shake them up. Did Candace Amory get in touch with you?'
'Sly dog.'
'That's what Peppermint Patty says to Charlie Brown.'
'What?'
'Nothing.'
'Shit, you're going nuts, y'know?'
'How about Candace?'
'She'll stay busy. I assigned two damn good men to clue her in.'
'Good.'
'Listen, buddy . . . you have a problem.'
'No way. I'm going to hit the sack.'
'You see the time? That TV newscast will be on in one hour. That's how fast they can get that tape in . . .'
'So?'
'If Velda sees it, she is going to be upset as hell.'
'Baloney, I did a funny at the end.'
'They edit, idiot. They'll keep it hard and tight as they can. You know those two.'
He was right. I said, 'Look, I'll grab a cab and head up there.'
'I'm closer,' he told me. 'I'll see if I can get there first.'
'Keep her quiet.'
'Will do.'
I hung up. This time I took my own trenchcoat when I went back out into the night. It was a heavier mist now. Soon it would start to rain.
It was faster getting to Velda's room from emergency admitting, so I had the cab drop me off there. I went through the handful of people waiting to be helped, pushed through the double doors, took the stairs two at a time to the floor I wanted and half ran down the corridor.
The cop on duty was the one who had checked me out before. He grinned and waved to slow me down, his motions indicating everything was okay. I came to a walk to get my breath back and stood there a second, listening. I looked at my watch. The show would be running, but there was no sound from the room at all.
'What's all the hurry?' the cop asked me.
'Didn't want her watching television,' I panted.
'Hell, the captain took care of that twenty minutes ago. He went in and pulled the plug on her set.' He rubbed his jaw and frowned. 'The show's all that bad?'
'Just didn't want her getting excited.'
'Nothing should bother her. Her doctor sedated her an hour ago. She just had a couple of orderlies in checking on her.'
'For what?'
'Beats me.'
'You know them?'
'I think I've seen them around. They had their ID badges on anyway.'
I said, 'Damn,' and went through the door. The same night-light was on and she was still there in the shaded glow of it, her breathing soft and regular. I took her wrist, felt her pulse, then let the tension go out of my shoulders.
The nurses had combed her hair out, and makeup had erased some of the discoloration on her face. The bandage was smaller and all the beauty that was Velda was beginning to reappear. A sheet was drawn up to her chin, but it didn't hide what was under it at all. She still swelled out beautifully in all the right places.
She smiled first, then opened her eyes. 'I know what you were thinking,' she said. Her voice was gentle, but wavering, the sedation heavy on her.
'You ought to. That's the way I always think.'
