return of the hood by Mickey Spillane

Author:Mickey Spillane
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 5

A couple of years ago a Fed team had me picked up. It wasn’t a pinch, though I would have been better off if it were. It was a cute pressure play because they wanted my peculiar services at their command since it was the only way they could handle a project. They laid my neck on the line and I had no choice about it so I played cop with them and came out of the deal a hood-type patriot and it took a long time to wash the smell of the association out of my system. My kind of people didn’t go along with any kind of cops, even a recruited hood.

Now the time for returning favors was back again. The card in my wallet was worn at the edges and a few odds and ends were scribbled across the face, but the number was still legible and I called it. Somebody was always at that office night and day and I wasn’t worried about getting an answer at this hour. The phone was lifted and a voice said, “Varlie Imports, what can I do for you?”

“Try remembering me for a starter,” I said.

“Yes?” The voice was puzzled.

“The name is Ryan . . . the Irish one as you used to call me.”

“One moment, please.” Sound diminished as he held a hand over mouthpiece and I could barely hear the hum of voices. Then the hand was taken away and the voice that spoke to me was a different one, but one I remembered well.

There was nothing friendly there. It was cold and impersonal and said, “What do you want, Ryan?”

“To see you, Shaffer. You’re picking up a tab for me.”

“Ryan . . .”

“Uh-uh. I’ll do the talking. I’m in a pay station and you can’t trace the call in time so don’t bother. Just go to the corner of Eighth Avenue and Forty-Fifth Street and start walking north on the west side. When I’m sure you’re alone I’ll contact you. Twenty minutes, that’s all you have.” I hung up and grinned to myself. Cliff Shaffer would be there, all right. He knew what the picture was well enough.

I knew he’d make a try for a pinch anyway so I had a friend of mine who had an independent cab out in front of the car he had stationed near the corner and block its way. Before Shaffer went fifty feet I was behind him, steered him into the hotel lobby on the corner and angled to the east-west street and started him walking. I didn’t have to use the gun. Shaffer never did trust me all the way and wasn’t taking any chances. When he knew I had caught the play in time, he shrugged it off and played the game. He hadn’t bothered wearing a rod either.

Two blocks over was an all night diner and we had coffee and sandwiches sent back to our table and I looked at him sitting there, still the same,

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