There Is Something About a Dame by Michael Avallone

Author:Michael Avallone [Avallone, Michael]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Story Merchant Books
Published: 2013-04-20T22:00:00+00:00

“Give thy thoughts no tongue … ”

THIRTEEN

Breakfast, a hot shower and shave put me all together again. It was going to be a hectic day. That was my first notion. There was Police Headquarters to visit, the play Henry the Fifth to see and a possible interview with the cause of it all, Memo Morgan. If—the poor slob hadn’t kicked off while I was pounding my ear.

I had my coffee, toast and orange juice in a greasy spoon close to the hotel while I digested the Daily News. The only way to save your stomach is never eat anything fried in a one-armed joint. They really can’t botch up coffee and toast that much. I read the News thoroughly to see what importance, if any, the shooting of Memo Morgan had. I found a stick of type on page three that gave a thin outline of the details and mentioned Memo by name. There was no mention of myself for which I was deeply grateful. We’d beaten it to the hospital too fast for the newshounds and Sol Miner had kept his legal trap shut. So far so perfect.

I left the paper on the counter when I ankled out of the joint. I struck off for Police Headquarters which was a spit and a cough away. It was nearly noon, again. Time enough for Monks to have gotten some word from Roosevelt.

The Weather Bureau was batting zero again. The rain that had been predicted was nowhere in sight. Blue skies and a lazy sun hung in the metropolitan heavens.

Manhattan was humming. There was the usual quota of cabs, cars and trucks fighting for their place in the street. Shoppers and characters familiar to the scene were hurrying back and forth on their endless trips of habit and necessity. Including me. My footsteps mingled with the flocking hordes that stream through Eighth Avenue and the Fifties in New York’s unkempt midtown West Side. I couldn’t help marveling once more at the black-and-white extremes of the city I dig so much. The midtown East Fifties were spotless by comparison.

My mind was on Monks, Morgan and Sir Stewart’s play.

I’d forgotten about shadows and tails and people who make a living out of following people like me.

I didn’t see him until I was crossing from Fifty-second over to Fifty-first on the downtown side of Eighth. It might have been the familiar twinge I got when I saw the big front of Madison Square Garden again. Memory of the Voice and his ghostly appearances and disappearances must have put the bit in my teeth. I sensed rather than saw the man behind me.

It was all right anyway. He hadn’t intended avoiding me. I could see that. Whether or not he was the Voice remained to be heard.

He came swinging toward me in a gray topcoat that must have cost more than it was worth. His black fedora was turned down on one side so far as to look like a gag. But there was nothing funny about the size of him.

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.