The Girl Hunters by Mickey Spillane

Author:Mickey Spillane [Spillane, Mickey]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fiction, Mystery & Detective, General
ISBN: 9780749302757
Amazon: 0749302755
Publisher: Mandarin
Published: 1962-01-02T05:00:00+00:00

"Somebody does," I reminded him. "The Big Agency boys don't give up their targets that easily. Not if the target is so big it makes a lifetime speciality of espionage."

He reflected a moment and nodded. "Quite possible. However, it's more than likely Erlich is dead at this point. He'd be in his sixties now if he escaped the general roundup of agents after the war. When the underground organizations of Europe were free of restraint they didn't wait on public trials. They knew who their targets were and how to find them. You'd be surprised at just how many people simply disappeared, big people and little people, agents and collaborators both. Many a person we wanted badly went into a garbage pit somewhere."

"Is that an official attitude?"

"Don't be silly. We don't reflect on attitudes to civilians. Occasionally it becomes necessary--"

"Now, for instance," I interrupted.

"Yes, like now. And believe me, they're better off knowing nothing."

Through the glasses his eyes tried to read me, then lost whatever expression they had. There was a touch of contempt and disgust in the way he sat there, examining me like a specimen under glass, then the last part of my line cut across the last corner and I asked him casually, "Who's The Dragon?"

Art Rickerby was good. Damn, but he was good. It was as if I had asked what time it was and he had no watch. But he just wasn't that good. I saw all the little things happen to him that nobody else would have noticed and watched them grow and grow until he could contain them no longer and had to sluff them off with an aside remark. So with an insipid look that didn't become him at all he said, "Who?"

"Or is it whom? Art?"

I had him where the hair was short and he knew it. He had given me all the big talk but this one was one too big. It was even bigger than he was and he didn't quite know how to handle it. You could say this about him: he was a book man. He put all the facts through the machine in his head and took the risk alone. He couldn't tell what I knew, yet he couldn't tell what I didn't know. Neither could he take a chance on having me clam up.

Art Rickerby was strictly a statesman. A federal agent, true, a cop, a dedicated servant of the people, but foremost he was a statesman. He was dealing with big security now and all the wraps were off. We were in a bar drinking beer and somehow the world was at our feet. What was it Laura had said--_"I saw wars start over a drink--"_ and now it was almost the same thing right here.

"You didn't answer me," I prodded.

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