Free Mickey Spillane - [Mike Hammer 02] by My Gun Is Quick

been trying to get you all morning.”
    “I was here. Sleeping.”
    “What were you doing last night?”
    “Working. What did ya want?”
    “A gentleman came in this morning, a very wealthy gentleman. His name was Arthur Berin-Grotin and he wants to see you. I made an appointment for two-thirty here in the office and I suggest you keep it. In case you didn’t know, the bank balance can stand relining.”
    “Okay, kid, I’ll be there. Was his stooge with him?”
    “He came alone. Maybe he had someone waiting, but they didn’t come up.”
    “Good. Stick around until I show up. Won’t be long. ’Bye, honey.”
    For ten minutes I splashed around in the shower, then made a bite to eat without drying off. A full pot of coffee put me back in shape and I started to get dressed. My suit was a mess, wrinkled from top to bottom, with the pockets and cuffs filled with sand. There were lipstick smears on the collar and shoulders, so it went back into the closet behind the others until I could get it to the tailor’s. That left me with the custom-built tweed that was made to be worn over a rod, so I slapped on the shoulder holster and filled it with the .45, then slipped on the jacket. I looked in the mirror and grunted. A character straight out of a B movie. Downstairs I got a shave and a haircut, which left me just enough time to get to the office in a few minutes before the old gent.
    Mr. Berin-Grotin came in at exactly two-thirty. My switch box buzzed and Velda called in from the waiting room, “A gentleman here to see you, Mike.”
    I told her to send him in and sat back in my swivel chair, waiting. When he opened the door I got up and walked over with my mitt out. “Glad to see you again, Mr. Berin. Come over and park.”
    “Ah, thank you.” He took an overstuffed leather chair by the desk and leaned forward on his cane. In the light from the window I could see a troubled look about his eyes.
    “Young man,” he said, “since you left me I have given more and more thought to the plight of the girl you were so interested in. The one that was found dead.”
    “The redhead. Her name was Nancy Sanford.”
    His eyebrows went up. “You discovered that already?”
    “Hell no, the cops got that angle. All I ever found out was some junk that makes no sense.” I leaned back and fired up a smoke, wondering what he wanted. He told me soon enough.
    “Did they find her parents ... anyone who would take care of ... the body?”
    “Nah. There’s not much they can do, anyhow. The city is filled with a thousand girls like her. Ten to one she’s from out of the state and has been away from home so long nobody gives a damn any more. The only one who’s trying to give her back her past is me. Maybe I’ll be sorry for it.”
    “That is exactly what I come to see you about, Mr. Hammer.”
    “Mike ... I hate formalities.”
    “Oh yes ... Mike. At any rate, when you left I thought and thought about the girl. I made a few judicious calls to friends I have with the newspapers, but they couldn’t help in the least. They said the girl was just a ... a drifter. It seems a shame that things like that must happen. I believe that we’re all to blame somehow.
    “Your deep concern has transferred itself to me, and I think I may be of some help to you. I am continually giving to charities of some sort ... but that’s a rather abstract sort of giving, don’t you think? Here is a chance for me to help someone, albeit a trifle, and I feel I must.”
    “I told you once I’ll take care of the funeral arrangements myself,” I said.
    “I realize you intend to ... but that’s not what I mean. What I wish to do is employ you. If you carry on an investigation you must be financed, and since I am as anxious as you to have her remains properly cared for, I would be deeply grateful if you would let me give you the means of locating her relatives. Will you do it?”
    It was a break I hadn’t expected. I took my feet off the desk and swung