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Dorn recognized the seriousness in my voice and nodded。 〃I understand。 Quite long ago。。。I had to do something similar。 And this person you knew？〃
〃Dead now。〃
The drinks came then and we raised our glasses to each other； two Manhattans against a highball； tasted them and nodded our satisfaction and put them down。 Renie Talmage was still looking at me and Dorn gave me another chuckle。 〃I'm afraid you're in for it now。 My bloodthirsty co…worker here is an avid follower of mysteries in literature and films。 She'll press you for every detail if you let her。〃 He reached over and laid his hand on her arm。 〃Please； dear。 The man was a friend of Mr。 Hammer。〃
〃It doesn't matter；〃 I said。 〃I have more than one friend with an illegal pastime。 Too bad it caught up with him。 So far it's tabbed as murder that came out of an attempted robbery。〃
〃Attempted？〃 Renie Talmage leaned forward； the interest plain on her face。
〃They never got what they went after。 The money was all banked； squirreled away in a neighborhood account。〃
〃But the wallets。。。〃
〃Discarded；〃 I told her。 〃With a guy like him it would be too chancy to risk using credit cards。 He just wasn't the type to own one。〃
〃And that's your story；〃 Dorn said to her。 〃I think we can talk about more pleasant things while we eat。。〃
〃Spoilsport；〃 she grimaced。 〃At last I have a chance to talk to a real private cop and you ruin it。〃 She looked at me； eyes twinkling。 〃Look out； Mr。 Hammer； I may deliberately cultivate you； regardless。〃
〃Then start by calling me Mike。 This Mr。 Hammer routine gives me the squirms。〃
Her laugh was rich and warm。 〃I was hoping you'd ask。 So then； I am Renie； but this is William。〃
Dorn looked at me sheepishly。 〃Unfortunately； I never acquired a nickname。 Oh； I tried； but I guess I'm just the William type。 Odd； don't you think？〃
〃I don't know。 Look at the trouble our last Vice President had。 He had to settle for initials。 At least you look like the mister belongs there。〃
We ordered then； something in French that turned out to be better than I expected； and between courses Dorn drifted into his business。 He had started out during the war years assembling radar ponents under military contract； developed a few patentable ideas and went on from there。 He admitted freely that World War II； Korea and the Vietnam thing made him wealthy； but didn't hesitate to state that the civilian applications of his products were of far more benefit than could be accrued by the military。 Hell； I didn't disagree with him。 You make it whenever and however you can。 Separate ethics from business and you get a big fat nothing。
Apparently Renie Talmage had been with him for ten years or so and was a pretty valuable asset to his business。 Several times she came up with items of interest that belonged more in a man's world than a woman's。 Dorn saw my look of surprise and said； 〃Don't mind the brainy one； Mike。 She does that to me sometimes 。 。 。 the big answers from those pretty lips。 I pay her handsomely for her insight and she hasn't been wrong yet。 My only concern is that she might leave me and go in business for herself。 That would be the end of my enterprises。〃
〃I can imagine。 I got one like that myself；〃 I said。 At two thirty I told them I had to split； waited while Dorn signed the tab and walked to the street with them。 Someplace the sun had disappeared into the haze and a bank of heavy； low clouds was beginning to roll in again。 I offered to drop them off； but Dorn said they were going to walk back and gave me another firm handshake。
When Renie held out her fingers to me her eyes had that sparkle in them again and she said； 〃I really am going to cultivate you； Mike。 I'm going to get you alone for lunch and make you tell me everything about yourself。〃
〃That won't be hard；〃 I said。
Dorn had turned away to say hello to a foursome that followed us out and never heard her soft； impish answer。 〃It will be； Mike。〃
I got back to the office and picked up the mail that had been shoved through the slot in the door and tossed it on Velda's desk。 For five minutes I prowled around； wondering why the hell she didn't call； then went back to the mail again。 There were bills； four checks； a couple of circulars and something I damned near missed； a yellow envelope from the messenger service we sometimes used。 I ripped it open and dumped out the folded sheet inside。
The handwriting was hers； all right。 All it said was 〃Call Sammy Brent about theater tickets。 Will call office tonight。〃 The envelope was dated one fifteen； delivered from the Forty…fifth Street messenger service office。 Whatever she was getting at was beyond me。 Sammy Brent ran a tiny ticket office dealing mainly in off…Broadway productions and dinner theaters in the New York…New Jersey…Connecticut area。
The Yellow Pages listed his agency and I dialed the number； getting a heavy； lower East Side accent in an impatient hello twice。 I said； 〃Sammy？〃
〃Sure； who else？ You think I can afford help here？〃
〃Mike Hammer； buddy。〃
〃Hey； Mike； whattaya know？〃
〃Velda said I should call you about theater tickets。 What the hell's going on？〃
〃Yeah； yeah。 That crazy broad of yours shows up here like some Times Square floozie on the loose and I didn't even know her。 Man； what legs！ She's got her dress up to。。。good thing the old lady wasn't around。 Man； she's got a top and bottom you can't。。。〃
〃What's with the tickets？〃
〃Oh。〃 His voice suddenly went quiet。 〃Well； she was asking about Lippy Sullivan。 Real sorry about that； Mike。〃
〃I know。〃
〃Good guy； him。 You know； he was hustlin' for me。〃
〃What？〃
〃He picked up extra change scalping tickets。 Not for the big shows； but like the regular ones I handle。 Conventions e in； those guys got a broad and no place to go； he'd meet them in bars and hotels and hustle tickets。〃
〃What！〃
〃He was a good guy； Mike。〃
〃Look； how'd you pay him？〃
〃Cash。 He'd get a percent of the price over the going rate。 Like maybe a buck or two。 It was a good deal。 We was both satisfied。 You know； he was a good talker。 He could make friends real easy。 That's why he did pretty good at it。 No fortune； but he picked up walking…around money。〃 When I didn't answer him he said； 〃It was okay； wasn't it； Mike？ Like I ain't the only one who。。。〃
〃It was okay； Sammy。 Thanks。〃
And it was starting to spell out a brand…new story。
I searched my memory for the return address that had been on the envelope in Lippy's garbage； finally remembered it as being simply new used furniture on Eighth Avenue and dug the number out of the directory。
Yes； the clerk remembered Lippy buying a couch。 It wasn't often they sold a new one in that neighborhood。 He had picked it out on a Saturday afternoon just a couple of weeks before he died and paid for it in cash with small bills。 No； he didn't say why he wanted it But permanent roomers in the area often changed furniture。 The landlords wouldn't and what transients usually rented with their meager earnings were hardly worth using。 I thanked the clerk and hung up。
When I looked down the 。45 was in my hand； the butt a familiar thing