The Mike Hammer Collection - Mickey Spillane [213]
“How can I get back to the bridge without swimming, Pop?”
He pointed a gnarled finger toward the tree line. “A path runs through there. Keeps right along the bank, but stick to it and nobody’ll see ya in ya jeans. Hope they let ya join that club.”
“I think I can fix it.” I batted away the bugs that were beginning to swarm around me and took off for the path. Damn Dilwick anyway.
CHAPTER 10
Going back was rough. My feet were bleeding at the end of the first hundred yards and the blue-tailed flies were making my back a bas-relief of red lumps. Some Good Samaritan had left a dirty burlap bag that reeked of fish and glinted with dried scales in the path and I ripped it in half and wrapped the pieces over my instep and around my ankles. It wasn’t so bad after that.
By the time I reached the bridge the sun was hanging well up in the sky and a few office workers were rolling along the road on their way to town. I waited until the road was clear, then made a dash across the bridge to the car and climbed into some dry clothes. My feet were so sore I could hardly get into my shoes, but leaving the laces open helped a little. I threw the wet shorts in the back with the rest of the junk and reached for a butt. There are times when a guy wants a cigarette in the worst way, and this was one of them.
I finished two, threw the car in gear and plowed out to the concrete. Now the fun began. Me and Dilwick were going to be as inseparable as clamshells. Grange was the key to unlock this mess. Only Dilwick had Grange. Just to be certain I pulled into a dog wagon and went to the pay phone. Sergeant Price was in again. It was getting to be a habit.
I said hello, then: “Get a report on Grange yet, Sergeant?”
He replied in the negative.
“How about the city cops?”
“Nothing there either. I thought you were looking for her?”
“Yeah . . . I am. Look, do me a favor. Buzz the city bulls and see if they’ve turned up anything in the last few hours. I’ll hold on.”
“But they would have called me if . . .”
“Go on, try it anyway.”
Price picked up another phone and dialed. I heard him ask the cop on the desk the question, then he slammed the receiver down. “Not a thing, Mike.”
“Okay, that’s all I want to know.” I grinned to myself. It was more than a feud between the city and the state police; it was monkey business. But it was all right with me. In fact, I was happier about it than I should have been. I was looking forward to kicking Dilwick’s teeth right down his big fat yap.
But before I did anything I was going to get some breakfast. I went through my first order, had seconds, then went for another round. By that time the counterman was looking at the stubble of the beard on my face and wondering whether or not I was a half-starved tramp filling my belly then going to ask to work out the check.
When I threw him a ten his eyes rolled a little. If he didn’t check the serial number of that bill to see if it was stolen I didn’t know people. I collected my change and glanced at the time. Ten fifteen. Dilwick would be getting to his office about now. Swell.
This time I found a spot on the corner and pulled in behind a pickup truck. I shut off the motor then buried my nose in a magazine with one eye on the station house across the street. Dilwick came waddling up five minutes later. He disappeared inside and didn’t show his face for two hours. When he did come out he was with one of the boys that had worked over Billy that night.
The pair stepped into an official car and drove down the street, turning onto Main. I was two cars