The Mike Hammer Collection

I grinned at myself in the rearview mirror. I’m thick sometimes, but hit me often enough and I get the idea. I didn’t even have to worry about Junior beating me to it. He knew they had it . . . he wouldn’t plan on them dropping it. My curiosity was getting tired of thinking in terms of its. This had better be good or I was going to be pretty teed off.

Nice, sweet little case. Two hostile camps. Both fighting each other, both fighting me. In between a lot of people getting shot at and Ruston kidnapped to boot. Instead of a logical starting place it traveled in circles. I kicked the gas pedal a little harder.

Harvey was waiting with the door open when I turned up the drive. I waved him inside and followed the gravel drive to the spot where Junior had taken his shellacking. After a few false starts, I picked out the trail the two had taken across the yard and began tracking. Here and there a footprint was still visible in the soft sod, a twig broken off, flower stalks bent, a stone kicked aside. I let my eyes read over every inch of the path and six feet to the sides, too. If I knew what I was looking for it wouldn’t have been so bad. As it was, it took me a good twenty minutes to reach the wall.

That was where it was. Lying face up in full view of anybody who cared to look. A glaring white patch against the shrubbery, a slightly crinkled, but still sealed envelope.

The IT.

Under my fingers I felt a handful of what felt like postcards. With a shrug I shoved the envelope unopened into my pocket. Item one. I poked around in the grass and held the shrubs aside with my feet. Nothing. I got down on the ground and looked across the grass at a low angle, hoping to catch the sunlight glinting off metal. The rough calculations I took from Roxy’s room showed this to be the point of origin of the bullet, but nowhere could I see an empty shell. Hell, it could have been a revolver, then there would be no ejected shell. Or it could have been another gun instead of York’s. Nuts there. A .32 is a defensive weapon. Anybody who wants to kill uses a .38 or better, especially at that range. I checked the distance to Roxy’s window again. Just to hit the house would mean an elevation of thirty degrees. The lad who made the window was good. Better than that, he was perfect. Only he must have fired from a hole in the ground, because there was no place he could have hidden in this area. That is, if it wasn’t one of the two who went over the wall.

I gave up and went back to the car and drove around to the front of the house.

Dutiful Harvey stared at the dirt on my clothes and said, “There’s been an accident, sir?”

“You might call it that,” I agreed pleasantly. “How is Miss Malcom?”

“Fine, sir. The doctor was here this morning and said she was not in any danger at all.”

“The boy?”

“Still quite agitated after his experience. The doctor gave him another sedative. Parks has remained with them all this while. He hasn’t set foot out of the room since you left.”

“Good. Has anyone been here at all?”

“No, sir. Sergeant Price called several times and wants you to call him back.”

“Okay, Harvey, thanks. Think you can find me something to eat? I’m starved.”

“Certainly, sir.”

I trotted upstairs and knocked on the door. Billy’s voice cautiously inquired who it was, and when I answered he pulled a chair away from the door and unlocked it.

“Hi, Billy.”

“Hello, Mike . . . what the hell happened?”

“Somebody took me for a ride.”

“Cripes, don’t be so calm about it.”

“Why not? The other guy has to walk back.”

“Who?”

“I don’t know yet.”

Roxy was grinning at me from the bed. “Come over and kiss me, Mike.” I gave her a playful tap on the jaw.

“You heal fast.”

“I’ll do better if you kiss me.” I did. Her mouth was a field of burning poppies.

“Okay?”

“I want more.”

“When you get better.” I squeezed her hand. Before I went into Ruston’s room I dusted myself off in front of the mirror. He had heard me come in and was all smiles.

“Hello, Mike. Can you stay here awhile this time?”

“Oh, maybe. Feeling good?”

“I feel all right, but I’ve been in bed too long. My back is tired.”

“I think you’ll be able to get up today. I’ll have Billy take you for a stroll around the house. I’d do it myself only I have some work to clean up.”

“Mike . . . how is everything coming? I mean . . .”

“Don’t think about it, Ruston.”

“That’s all I can do when I lie here awake. I keep thinking of that night, and Dad and Miss Grange. If only there was something I could do I’d feel better.”

“The best you can do is stay right here until everything’s settled.”

“I read in books . . . they were books of no account . . . but sometimes in cases like this the police used the victim as bait. That is, they exposed a person to the advantage of the criminal to see if the criminal would make another attempt. Do you think . . .”