“Perfectly. It's pretty hard to swallow all at once, it's something I'll have to chew on for a while before I can digest it. But I'm satisfied, all right, in spades.”
“... And Alex Burton,” she asked flatly.
It was almost a shame to kill a man like that when I had all that evidence on him—still, he had proved that he was dangerous. He sure had proved it to John Venci. Yes, I thought, the only smart way to handle it is to kill Burton. There were still plenty of fish left, and I had plenty of bait.
I said, “You can stop worrying about Burton, Mrs. Venci.”
“I hope you realize it won't be easy.”
“Please relax,” I said. “Just keep out of sight for a day or two; I won't let him kill you.”
But she wasn't so sure about that.
I said, “Look, Mrs. Venci, I'm no amateur, this is no punk kid trying to work up his guts to stick up an oil station, this is a professional, a well trained professional playing for big stakes. I'm not underrating Burton—a man with his record has to be pretty smart, but I've handled smart boys before, and I can do it again. So take it easy.”
I was half afraid that she would let her natural female instability lead her into some unpredictable action that would ruin everything. I was sorry now that I had got rough with her. She still knew things, she was still Mrs. John Venci, and I could use her on my side.
“Good by,” she said.
“Oh... Yes, I guess I've been here long enough. But before I go, is there anything you want to tell me, about Burton, I mean?”
“... No. You said you could handle it.”
“So I did. Well, I'll be going.”
She rang for the maid. We stood there looking at each other, and after a moment she said, “I really mean good-by. Don't ever try to see me again, ever.”
Not until I got back to my apartment did I remember Dorris had brought a package with her that morning. The package was still in the kitchen where she had left it, partly unwrapped. I opened it up and the first thing I saw was a nicely blued, but not new, “police special” .38 caliber revolver. There was also a box of ammunition. But the thing that caught my eye was the money. There was a package of fives, a package of tens and a package of twenties, every bill brand new and crisp and green.
I counted it out and it came to five hundred on the nose.
Well, I thought, this is very nice. This is very nice of you, Mrs. Venci. You may be a little mixed up sexually, but what's an aberration or so among friends—you've got your nice side, too. Yes sir, you sure have!
I pocketed the money and went out to find the biggest goddamn steak in Lake City.
CHAPTER SEVEN
I WAS AT THE mail box in the hallway next morning when she came out of her apartment. She was just about the handsomest girl I ever saw, this Pat Kelso, this secretary of Alex Burton's that Dorris Venci had hinted was something more than a secretary. She walked like Royalty: chin up, erect, every step sure and solid.
“Good morning,” I said.
She smiled faintly. “Good morning.”
“Pardon me, but could you tell me what time the postman comes around? I'm new to this neighborhood.” Then I added, “I just moved in yesterday, down the hall. Apartment seven.”
I thought maybe she would say something about our being neighbors, but she didn't. “I believe the postman comes later,” she said, “around ten.” Then she nodded pleasantly, smiled that faint smile again, and walked out of the building.
I went to the door and watched her walk to the curb where a taxi was waiting. Pat Kelso. The name stuck with me, and the vision stuck with me. This girl is class, I told myself. How did she ever get mixed up with a bastard like Burton?
Then I remembered that most people didn't know Burton as I now knew him. After all, he was a very wealthy and powerful and respected man in the state. He was a bigshot; he was an ex-governor. Maybe that's the kind of guy girls with class went for. I watched her as she got into the cab. Pat Kelso, I thought, I think we ought to get better acquainted.
The telephone was ringing when I got back to the apartment. Words jumped out at me when I picked up the receiver, frightened words coming fast and making no sense at all. It was Dorris Venci and she was scared.
“Hold it, Mrs. Venci,” I said. “Now what's the trouble.”
“A man tried to kill me!”
“Who? When?”
“I don't know who, just a man, one of Alex Burton's men, it could have been anybody. But he isn't important, Alex Burton is the important one. Have... have you done...”
“Not yet,” I said. “After all it's only been a few hours; I've got to have a little time to figure something out.”
“Something's got to be done!”
“It sure has,” I said. “You've got to get hold of yourself. Now calm down and tell me what happened.”
“I told you, a man tried to kill me! It was last night, this morning, rather, about two o'clock. I woke up and there he was in my room; he had a gun!”
“Hold on. How did he get in your room. You had the house locked, didn't you?”
“Yes, the house was locked, but there's latticework and vines on the north side, and he must have used that to climb up to the second floor. He broke a window—rather
“I see. Then what happened.”
“I woke up and there he was. He had a gun pointed right at me!”
I said, “I don't get it. If he went to that trouble and had a gun pointed at you, why didn't he kill you?”
“He tried, that's what I'm trying to tell you. He fired once but I had thrown myself off the bed. Luckily, before he could find me in the dark, Ellen began knocking on my door, making an awful noise, and I guess that's what frightened him away.”
“You mean he just knocked off the job and left? I'd hate to hire a man like that.”
“I told you that Ellen was making a lot of noise, and, besides, she had a gun. She finally got the door open and fired once. Of course the killer couldn't see who it was; he fired once more in the darkness and left.”
“How did he get out of the house?”
“He jumped from my window, my bedroom window.”
“Then there's one hell of a sore hoodlum somewhere in Lake City this morning, taking a drop like that. But it's over now. The main thing is for you to calm down and be quiet, and keep Ellen quiet too. I'll think of something.”
“Soon!”
“All right, soon.”
“Today! Tonight at the latest!”
“All right, I said I would take care of it. Calm down.”
“There's one more thing,” she said. “My safe was open, the wall safe upstairs where the strongbox was kept.”
I whistled. “That was close; I got that stuff just in time. And you are right about Burton, the bastard is entirely too persistent. Well, he won't be so persistent this time tomorrow. Just think about that and try to get some sleep.”
I hung up.
That goddamn Burton, I thought, he's going to ruin things good if I don't stop him. When a politician gets in so deep that he starts playing with murder, that was the time to do one of two things: either back off fast and get out of the blast area when the explosion comes, or close in fast and try to get at the fuse.
There was one thing I was sure of—I wasn't backing away. I had my hands on a million dollars worth of blackmail material. So Burton had to go, and fast. Soon as he found out that Dorris no longer had the evidence, he'd
