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When I looked down the 。45 was in my hand； the butt a familiar thing against my palm。 It was black and oily with walnut grips； an old friend who had been down the road with me a long time。
I slid it back in the holster and walked to the window so I could look out at the big city of fun。 The clouds were rolling around the edges； melting into each other； bringing a premature darkness down around the towering columns of brick and steel。 It's a big place； New York。 Millions of people who run down holes in the ground like moles； or climb up the sides of cliffs to their own little caves。 Most were just people。 Just plain people。 And then there were the others； the killers。 There was one out there now and that one belonged all to me。
Okay； Lippy； the pattern's showing its weave now。 Sammy nailed it down without knowing it。 You worked your tail off for an honest buck but you were just too damn friendly。 Who did you meet； Lippy？ What dip hustling the theater district did you pick up to move in with you？ Sure； I could understand it。 Dames were out of your line。 It was strictly friends and how many did you have？ You were glad to have somebody get close to you； to yak with and drink with。 You found a friend； Lippy； until you found out he wasn't honest like you were。 You latched onto a lousy cheap crook。 What happened； pal？ Maybe you located his cache and stuck it where he couldn't get to it； then dumped those wallets in the garbage。 So he came back and tried to take it from you。 No； Lippy； there wasn't any reason at all for it； was there？ You would have shared your pad； your ine； your beer。。。anything to keep him straight and your friend that you could believe in and trust。 No reason for him to kill you at all。 Only I have a reason； friend； and my reason is bigger than the one you didn't have。
All I had to do was find the right pickpocket。
So I sat there and ran it over in my mind until I could see it happen。 It shouldn't be too much of a job now I knew in which direction to take off。 There was only that little nagging thought that something was out of focus。 Something I should see clearly。 It wasn't that plicated at all。
Outside； the darkness had sucked the daylight out of the city and I sat there watching it fight back with bravely lit windows in empty offices and the weaving beams of headlights from the street traffic。 In a little while the flow would start from the restaurants to the theaters and it would be the working hour for the one I wanted。 If he was there。
Meyer Solomon was a bail bondsman who owed me a favor and he was glad to pay it back。 I asked him to find out if anybody had been booked on a pickpocket charge within the last two days and he told me he'd check it out right away。 So I stayed by the phone for another forty minutes until it finally jangled and I picked it up。
〃Mike？ Meyer here。〃
〃Let's have it。〃
〃Got six of 'em。 Four were bums working the subway on sleepers and the other two are pros。 You looking to hire one of 'em？〃
〃Not quite。 Who are the pros？〃
〃Remember Coo…Coo Weist？〃
〃Damn； Meyer； he must be eighty years old。〃
〃Still working； though。 Made a mistake when he tried it on an off…duty detective。〃
〃Who else？〃
〃A kid named Johnny Baines。 A Philly punk who came here about three years ago。 Good nimble fingers on that guy。 The last time he was busted he was carrying over ten grand。 This time he only had a couple hundred on him but it wasn't his fault。〃
〃Why not？〃
Meyer let out a sour laugh。 〃Because he was only three hours out of the clink where he spent ninety days on a D and D rap。 He never really had a chance to get operating right。 You going bail for somebody； Mike？〃
〃Not this time； Meyer。 Thanks。〃
〃Anytime； Mike。〃
I hung up and went back to the window again。 He was still out there somewhere。
I called downstairs； had a sandwich； coffee and the evening papers sent up。 The hunt was getting heavier for Schneider's killers and the reporters were hitting every detail with relish。 Another time it would have been funny； because contract killers who blasted one of their own kind seldom got that kind of attention。 Right now they'd be running scared； not only from the cops； but from the guy who gave them the job。 Their business days were over。 Two National Guard units were being called out on a security maneuver； detailed upstate。 The same thing was happening in five other states。 In。 view of the tense international situation the military deemed it smart policy to stay prepared。 It made for lots of space； dozens of pictures and if somebody was lucky they might e up with something。 Somehow I didn't feel very excited about sitting on the edge of annihilation。
At twelve fifteen the phone went off beside my ear and I rolled off the old leather couch and grabbed it。 My voice still sounded husky from being asleep and I said； 〃Yeah？〃
〃Mike？〃 Her voice sounded guarded。 〃Where the hell have you been； Velda？〃
〃Shut up and listen。 I rented one of those fleabag apartments across the street from Lippy's rooming house； downstairs in the front。 If you called Sammy Brent then you have it spotted 。。 。 the tickets and all？〃
〃Loud and clear。 Lippy had somebody staying with him。〃
〃That's what it looks like； but he was never seen going in or out and nobody seems to know a thing about it。 Apparently he was a pretty cagy character to get away with that； but I know how he did it。 In this neighborhood at the right hours he wouldn't be noticed at all。〃
〃All right kid； get with it。〃
〃Somebody's in Lippy's old room right now。 I spotted the beam of a pencil flash under the window shade。〃
〃Damn！〃
〃I can move in。。。〃
〃You stay put； you hear？ I'll be there in ten minutes。〃
〃That can be too late。〃
〃Let it。 Just watch for me。 I'll get off at the corner and walk on up。 Cover the outside and keep your ass down。〃
I grabbed an extra clip for the 。45 out of the desk drawer； slammed the door shut behind me and used the stairs instead of waiting for the elevator。 A cab was ahead of me； waiting for a red light at the corner and I reached it as the signals changed and told him where to go。 When the driver saw the five I threw on the seat beside him he made it across town and south to the corner I wanted in exactly six minutes and didn't bother to stick around to see what it was all about。
It was an old block； a hangover from a century of an orgy of progress； a four…storied chasm with feeble yellow eyes to show that there still was a pulse beat somewhere behind the crumbling brownstone facades。 Halfway down the street a handful of kids were playing craps under an overhead light and on the other side a pair of drifters were shuffling toward Ninth。 It wasn't the kind of street you bothered to sit around and watch at night。 It was one you wanted to get away from。
I flashed a quick look at the rooftops and the areaways under the stoops when I reached Lippy's old place； found nothing and spotted Velda in the doorway across the street。 I gave her the 〃wait and see〃 signal； then took the sandstone steps two at a time； the 。45 in my hand。
A 25…watt bulb hung from a dropcord in the ceiling of