Mickey Spillane - [Tiger Mann] Read online

  THE BY-PASS CONTROL by Mickey Spillane

  Chapter One The guy was as good as dead and knew it. Crouched there on the floor he looked like a shapeless bundle and only a bloodied face with still-hard bright eyes marked him as a man. His breath came in short, sobbing gasps and he tried to keep his guts in with both hands pressed to his stomach. The knife he had used on me was still within reach in front of him, but he wasnÒt thinking of making a try for it. All he could hope for was that I would bleed to death before he would, yet he knew that wouldnÒt happen. And I was on my feet with the cocked .45 in my fist grinning down at him. I let my eyes leave his for an instant and drift to the partially closed door behind him where there were three dead men strapped to tables in a soundproofed room whose deaths had been horrible things because they wouldnÒt talk easily and when they did, died anyway for the pleasure of a butcher. Two were from a Washington agency. One was my project partner. Oh, they had talked all right. Vito Salvi knew his work well. Besides a natural aptitude, he had been well trained in Moscow and provided with all the modern luxuries chemical and electronic development could offer torture-induced conversation and he had used them to the ultimate end. But when it comes his turn to face the big, black thing that lies beyond life, when the butcher is suddenly caught in his own grinder, the maggots show in his eyes and he gives off a livid smell as they crawl out his skin in one last attempt to escape an absolute certainty. ÓYouÒve had it, buddy,Ô I said. He choked a little and blinked away the blood that was streaming into his eyes from the massive slash across his forehead. ÓNo. No ... it is your own law....Ô I never stopped grinning and knew what I must look like to him. ÓI donÒt choose to recognize it.Ô ÓYou will be ...Ô ÓProsecuted?Ô My grin went wider and I leveled the rod, enjoying the moment. ÓSomebody screwed up your thinking, Vito. An inquiry, thatÒs all. Three men killed by an enemy agent who has a cash reward on his head from two countries Å and IÒm just a bystander who happened to bust up the party and caught a little hell of my own. These things donÒt get to court and you damn well know it. You found out what two of those men knew and it wonÒt do you a bit of good and even though the Washington boys hate my guts IÒll walk out with clean hands for being an enterprising and courageous citizen when they hear the story. Your headquarters wonÒt even know youÒre gone until time gets the message across. Then you simply get checked off the rolls.Ô ÓThey said ÅÔ ÓI know. They spilled. You got the works from them and you know it, only you took too long killing them to transmit the information and now itÒs too late.Ô He still tried. They all try. They have to. ÓYou could ... arrest me,Ô he said. ÓUh-uh. ItÒs better this way. Then thereÒs no trouble. ItÒs all over and done with. The slate is clean, another Red is out of the way and our Kremlin counterparts are as ignorant as before. WeÒll be a little more careful the next time too.Ô I had the .45 centered right in the middle of his forehead. Vito Salvi, who was credited with fourteen confirmed kills of our people, didnÒt even seem to notice it. The recesses of his mind had dredged up a last possible out and his eyes were fiery marbles tainted with cunning as he said, ÓI could give you valuable Å knowledge. A doctor Å put me in the hands of your police. I can tell them many things. My purpose here was Å twofold. It was not only to extract from those two men. ... There was another reason Å more urgent. Your police would want to know ....Ô ÓSo talk. Vito, IÒll judge its importance.Ô The last hope was there, glowing strongly in the agonized Ócontortions of his face. He talked for two minutes and what he said was like another blade, still wet from my own blood, going into my flesh again. He talked and when he said all there was to be said, I shot him flat between the eyes that slammed his body over in a full roll against the wall where he jerked once before he was still. Then I picked up the phone and dialed the downtown number of the New York bureau of I.A.T.S. and told them where I was. They interrogated me on the scene×two quietly outraged men who headed the newest and tightest security branch of all the Washington agencies and two hard-looking field men who were curiously expressionless until I described the final killing of Vito Salvi without mentioning his last statement. Only then did they register the slightest sign of satisfaction, knowing damn well that the one who had killed their associates hadnÒt died easily. They knew my reputation and it was too big and too real to let someone like Salvi take the big fall the quick way. They let me finish, then Hal Randolph said, ÓTypical Tiger Mann trademark.Ô I shrugged. ÓHow would you like me to have done it?Ô He looked at me closely, following the pattern the way I knew he would, then walked over to the body by the wall and stared at it a few seconds. ÓLetÒs start from the beginning, Mann. Like from where you came into this.Ô The others were watching me now and the two field men had black notebooks in their hands. When I spoke they took everything down verbatim in shorthand. ÓSure,Ô I said. ÓThe other dead guy is Doug Hamilton, one of ours. He runs a legitimate private investigation agency out of New York here.Ô ÓLegitimate?Ô ÓYou can check it fast enough,Ô I told him. ÓMartin Grady had him on retainer for three years doing routine security work for Belt-Aire Electronics, a company he owns. Under his government contracts it was required, so ...Ô ÑWeÒre familiar with Belt-Aire. Where do you come in, Tiger?Ô ÓA week ago Hamilton disappeared. I was on hand, so I got orders to look into it.Ô I nodded toward the room on the side. ÓI tracked him here.Ô ÓHow?Ô ÓHis car was missing. I reported it to the police and they recovered it. Inside was a notebook that had his address listed, among others. It was as simple as that.Ô ÓWhat others?Ô ÓSimple business addresses. I checked them all out.Ô ÓI see,Ô Randolph finally mused. ÓSo you came here and walked into×Ó he waved his hand around the room×Óthis. Just like that.Ô ÓNot quite. I donÒt stick my head into holes. Hamilton could have been involved in anything and IÒm too old a pro in this business to take chances. I cased the place from all sides and came down from the roof.Ô ÓThen how did you know what apartment to hit?Ô ÓSomebody spent a lot of time and trouble sealing up one window on the side with brick. They werenÒt very neat and left some pieces of material used in soundproofing rooms in the courtyard outside. This place is totally unoccupied like the ones beside it and no bum or scrounger holing up in here is throwing money into renovations like that.Ô Both the young guys looked up from their notebooks with a small touch of respect in their faces. One said, ÓYou could have called the police.Ô ÓI didnÒt think there was that much time. There werenÒt more than a half dozen lights showing along the entire block and it was doubtful any of those places had phones.Ô .ÔWasnÒt it foolish coming in alone?Ô I grinned at him then and my mouth hurt from where the cut opened in the corner. ÓI wasnÒt alone,Ô I told him and pointed to the .45 where they had laid it on the table under a handkerchief. Hal Randolph turned abruptly, his hands clasped behind his back. He was a big guy, heavy-set, with a florid face that never seemed to lose its mad. He didnÒt like me and his pet hate was Martin Grady, but now he was caught in the trap his own bureaucratic secrecy demanded of him. ÓYou recognized Vito Salvi, then, didnÒt you?Ô I nodded and leaned back in the chair, trying to wipe the taste of blood out of my mouth. ÓWe had met before,Ô I said, not committing myself any further. ÓYou knew who he was,Ô he insisted. ÓSure. So do you. ThatÒs why I killed him. And donÒt ask why I didnÒt hold him. I was lucky as it was. I had just picked the lock and got into this room when he came out of the other and if you take a good look at that door youÒd see it wasnÒt going to be forced easily. Inside there was another exit he could have gotten through if he knew I was here. That bastard knew all the tricks of infighting with knives and guns....Ô ÓExcept one,Ô the field man said. ÓWhat?Ô ÓYou nailed him,Ô he told me. RandolphÒs smile was tight around the edges. ÓIÒm afraid you donÒt know our friend very well,
Courtney. This is Tiger Mann and when you see his package in the department files it will surprise you. Moscow has him on their ÑAÒ list, which makes him a dead boy almost any time at all. He was with the O.S.S. during the war and likes to play spy so much he couldnÒt leave well enough alone, so now with the backing of millionaire industrialists who donÒt seem to trust their governmentÒs authorized agencies to do a satisfactory job he gets entangled in everything from espionage to two-bit street brawls for the sake of a buck. I donÒt know what he calls himself, but heÒs a professional killer with enough power behind him to clean his hands for him but someday heÒs going to fall and when he does it will be heard on two continents.Ô ÓThree,Ô I said. ÓAnd donÒt hold your breath waiting for it to happen.Ô I pushed myself out of the chair and got to my feet, the pain in my side giving me hell. ÓYouÒre talking too much, Randolph. IÒll be down in the morning to give you a detailed statement.Ô ÓWhere do you think youÒre going?Ô I found my hat and picked up my gun. ÓTo see a doctor,Ô I said. ÓOne who wonÒt report bullet wounds or knife slashes. Any objections?Ô There was just a long moment of silence and Randolph shook his head. He knew IÒd be in. I wanted some questions answered too. I got out, went down to the street and walked two blocks before a cab came by. I gave him the number of RondineÒs apartment and settled back against the cushions. No matter how often IÒd see her, this woman I loved so much, she was always a startling surprise, not because of the classic British beauty that radiated from the loveliness of a face framed by shoulder-length auburn hair or a contoured body so magnificent as to be almost unbelievable, but simply because she was there. For twenty years she had been dead to me. Twenty years ago she had tried to kill me and had, in turn, died herself. Yet here she was. Rondine? No, itÒs not really so confusing at all. The first Rondine was her oldest sister who had gone to the Nazis and later to the Soviets. To the Caine family she had never even been born now, and long forgotten except when the memory was dredged up. With me the memory never had died at all. For twenty years I had wanted to kill her and almost did when I found her again. But it wasnÒt her at all. It was the youngest sister who had inherited the same peculiar combination of genes and chromosomes to grow into the physical identity of the one forgotten. To me, though, she was still Rondine. The cover name she had used could never be forgotten, only now it was Edith who used it because I had endowed it in the beginning and this one wore it with all the meaning it was intended to have. She opened the door, stood there a few seconds and when I said, ÓHello, Rondine,Ô she smiled and held out her hand, throwing the door wide. Before I walked in she realized something had happened and the smile faded to sudden concern. ÓAgain, Tiger?Ô I knew my grin seemed foolish, but it was all I could manage. ÓLike the ball took a bad hop, kid.Ô She tried to make sense out of the slang, got it, and the soft curve of her mouth went grim. ÓBad?Ô With a hand under mine she steered me into the spacious living room and half pushed me into the corner of a sofa. ÓIÒll live. You remember Dr. Kirkland?Ô ÓThe same one?Ô I nodded. ÓGet him over.Ô Without asking more questions she thumbed through the phone book, found a number and dialed it. The conversation was brief, then she hung up and went to the bar, mixing a drink with the unusual efficiency of women handling bottles at three A.M. When she handed me the glass I took a long pull of the whiskey and ginger, then leaned my head back and closed my eyes. ÓCan I do anything?Ô ÓNo first aid, kid. Kirkland will be here fast enough and IÒve had too many of these things in me to know IÒm okay until he comes.Ô ÓHurt to talk?Ô ÓNo.Ô ÓWant to tell me what happened?Ô I looked up at her face and saw the serious set to it. There was more in her expression than concern for me. We didnÒt have to play games with each other any more at all. She wasnÒt the simple U.N. translator she seemed to be, but a well trained operative with a good cover assigned to work under her embassyÒs orders. She knew my business too, more than she had a right to know, but there are times when you canÒt hide things and have to trust to integrity and understanding and the knowledge that other people can have the same ideals as your own. I said, ÓCall Charlie Corbinet and get him here too.Ô There was a slight narrowing of her eyes and she knew, all right. This one wasnÒt just a street brawl or an accident. It was in the international realm again and it was far from over. Again, without a word, she went to the phone and did as I told her, then picked up my drink and built a new one. When she handed it to me there were tears showing on her cheeks and her lips brushed the back of my hand. ÓWhy?Ô she asked. ÓBecause I have to,Ô I told her. Dr. Kirkland was painlessly adept at his profession. The bullet had gone through two thicknesses of tough leather of the gun belt, its force slackened, then had sliced sideways into the flesh along my ribs and come to a halt in a bluish welt just under the skin. Both cuts from the knife were more like surgical incisions, the deliberate thrusts having been lost when I twisted out of their way. He finished, gave me a small bottle of capsules to take if things got rough, told me to stop by at the proper intervals and didnÒt ask for payment. Martin Grady would foot the bill. Rondine let me finish dressing before she came out of the bedroom, shaking her head like I was a little kid who didnÒt know any better. ÓYou donÒt suppose youÒre leaving here tonight,Ô she said. ÓSome things wonÒt wait, doll.Ô ÓNothing is that important.Ô ÓNo?Ô ÓTiger ÅÔ I reached my hand out and her fingers closed around mine. I said, ÓAll the other things IÒve done ... or youÒve been in on ... are nothing like this one. If it checks out all of us can be in trouble.Ô I looked at my watch. Charlie Corbinet was due any second now. ÓMake like a good secretary and get me one more call in.Ô I gave her the number and felt the sudden shock run through her hand in a spasm of tension. She had heard me call that number before and knew its implications. Only for a second did she stand there, then reached for the phone. When she dialed it she handed me the instrument silently and started to walk out of the room. ÓStay,Ô I told her. ÓYou sure you want me to?Ô ÓIÒve seen you kill too,Ô I reminded her. ÓThis one will take more than me alone.Ô She nodded, then moved to an armchair and sat down. On the third ring the phone was picked up, but as was usual, no voice answered. I gave the signal words and the other person said, ÓGo ahead, Tiger.Ô Martin Grady was as casual as if he were discussing a simple stock merger, knowing I would never make this call unless it was a total emergency. ÓWhoÒs in this area?Ô I asked. ÓDon Lavois and Tony Williams.Ô ÓScrub Williams and send Don in.Ô ÓCan you talk?Ô ÓEars only. WeÒre sitting on a big one. Take any of our top men out of projects you can shelve for the time being and have them on alert. Have them stand by at the usual place until I make contact. WeÒll need one liaison man and a fast plane handy. YouÒll be directly involved hi this and will have to be ready to move fast.Ô ÓThe F-51 Mustang will be in from Sarasota tonight then. It will land at Newark.Ô There was a slight edge to his voice now, anticipation rather than nervousness. ÓYou all right?Ô ÓIÒll live.Ô ÓSerious?Ô ÓDoc Kirkland will send the bill and the details. Meanwhile scratch Vito Salvi. HeÒs had it.Ô Grady hesitated, his voice cautious. ÓYou sure?Ô ÓPositive ID.Ô ÓThis will get you very special attention in certain quarters, Tiger. They wonÒt like their best trigger man being rubbed out.Ô ÓWhat choice have they got?Ô ÓBut you have a choice,Ô he said. ÓLike a nice vacation in the Andes or that sleepy village in Baja California?Ô ÓIÒm thinking along those lines. We canÒt afford to lose you.Ô ÓYou canÒt afford to hold me off this one either. IÒm the one Vito talked to before I killed him and a vacation will get you nothing but silence, so now the choice is back to you.Ô I could almost hear the silent evaluation he was giving my statement, then he said, ÓYouÒre asking for it. Take it.Ô ÓI got it.Ô ÓNeed anything?Ô ÓSo far, no. Be ready for anything though. This is bigger than anything we ever touched.Ô ÓIÒll wait for the report. Tonight?Ô ÓAs soon as the plane gets in. Others will have to know about it too.Ô ÓUse your own discretion. Will they cooperate?Ô ÓTheyÒll have to,Ô I told him and grinned a little. They had no choice either. I hung up, waited until Rondine took the phone away and sipped at the last of my drink. Just
as I finished it the doorbell rang, two short, impatient notes on the buzzer. Charlie Corbinet was our old C.O. in the O.S.S. He was still the raunchy, hard-bitten type he had been when he was our colonel and twenty years hadnÒt softened him any. Ostensibly, he headed up a small but important industry, but I.A.T.S. had recruited him back into their new organization for the simple reason that they needed his type, his brains and his foresight. A few of his superiors knew about his connection with me and hated his guts for it but they couldnÒt do without his guts either and they let our association alone. Now he stood there in the middle of the room, tall and rangy, the hard planes of his face still an indication of his true profession, his eyes scrutinizing me while his mouth twisted into a wry smile, knowing the yeast had started bubbling in the batter again. I said, ÓHi, Colonel.Ô ÓSomeday youÒll remember they made me a General on my retirement.Ô ÓHabit. Sorry.Ô I smiled back at him. ÓWhat kind of pay you pulling?Ô ÓI do all right.Ô ÓA hundred says I make five times as much.Ô ÓYouÒre just greedy.Ô ÓDamn right. I work for it too. It isnÒt enough.Ô ÓEver think one of the right agencies might take you on in spite of your record?Ô ÓScrew them. They donÒt pay enough. This way I do the same work and make a lot more bucks. I like compensation for the chances I take.Ô ÓThereÒs a chance you can wind up in the pokey, too.Ô ÓNot as long as I know where the bodies are buried . . . and Martin Grady can bail me out.Ô Rondine handed Charlie Corbinet a drink, reserving a small one for herself. ÓDonÒt bother arguing with him,Ô she said quietly. Charlie nodded. ÓI couldnÒt be bothered.Ô He took a quick taste of his drink, nodded with satisfaction and looked at me again. ÓI had a phoned report on the Vito Salvi fracas. You sure can stir things up.Ô ÓRandolph?Ô ÓYes. They had been after Ñhim for two years.Ô ÓWhen was their last contact?Ô ÓEighteen months ago.Ô ÓThen theyÒre lucky. They had their work done for them.Ô I let it go through his mind, then added, ÓHe had two of your men in that back room. How he nailed them I wonÒt worry about, but what was he after?Ô ÓClassified, Tiger.Ô I shrugged, making a real production out of it. ÓIt doesnÒt matter. Whatever they told him wonÒt go any further. ItÒs over with.Ô ÓIs it?Ô He could see the edges of my teeth in the grin. ÓNot quite. You see, we had a little talk too ... before I killed him.Ô ÓThatÒs what I thought.Ô Charlie turned, walked to a chair and sat down with a sigh of relief. ÓWant to come out with it?Ô ÓSure, Charlie. Tell me why Salvi wanted those men and IÒll tell you what he told me. Maybe.Ô ÓOne of your men was dead too.Ô ÓNobody that counted.Ô ÓHe was in Martin GradyÒs employ.Ô I nodded. ÓIn a minor capacity by government directive. Grady owns pieces of many essential industries that come under the identical setup.Ô Slowly, Charlie Corbinet turned the glass around in his hand, studied it before he took a drink, then decided. ÓYou really want me to get my head chopped off,Ô he said. ÓNot really. IÒd just like to see you draw a full GeneralÒs pay with bonus for the work you do ... and some real authority to back you up instead of handing it to guys like Randolph.Ô ÓTell me, Tiger .. . why donÒt you like the way Washington runs things?Ô ÓBecause I donÒt like to be classified with the patsies. I donÒt like the stupidity that went behind the Bay of Pigs invasion ... or the Panama crap ... or the way they can knock us off in Viet Nam while we sit on our thumbs and get laughed at by the real pigs on the other side of the Berlin Wall. Someday theyÒre going to find out a few people in this country got the message a long time ago and are doing something about it×using their time, money and talent to protect what they have. Funny, but itÒs fun too. ItÒs a real pleasure to shove it up and break it off in MoscowÒs tail. WeÒre not any better than the Washington boys. We just have more latitude to operate in and can buy what they canÒt, and have that nice, juicy knowledge that we canÒt be pushed too far because whatever we do, weÒre protected, and in that respect we can use the SovietÒs own cute techniques to slam back at them.Ô ÓIÒve heard that speech before.Ô ÓAnd I never get tired of giving it, buddy.Ô ÓSo what did Vito Salvi tell you?Ô ÓLetÒs start from the beginning. You first,Ô I said. As usual, he waited, digesting his thoughts, but as usual, he came across. He had to and I knew it so I just sat there until he was ready. ÓTiger . .. those two menÅ.Ô ÓGo on.Ô ÓOne came from Poland. He brought the story in.Ô ÓWhat story?Ô ÓThere was a man named Louis Agrounsky, an engineer.Ô He looked at me carefully, but I shook my head. ÓNever heard of him.Ô ÓVery few ever did. He was an electronics engineer employed on our ICBM projects. In fact, the chief technician, in charge of the project. Somehow or other he has disappeared.Ô ÓWhen?Ô ÓAbout a year ago.Ô ÓWhat makes him important?Ô ÓOnly one thing.Ô I waited. Charlie Corbinet was watching me carefully, the drink in his hand forgotten. ÓWhat?Ô ÓThe siniple fact that MoscowÒs top agent was assigned to locate him.Ô ÓSo?Ô ÑThose two men were assigned to find him too, just to uncover why the Soviets wanted him so badly. They were narrowing down the search when they disappeared and you showed up in time to really scramble things.Ô Rondine came up with another drink and shook one of the capsules from the bottle and handed them both to me silently. I didnÒt really notice it, but my side was hurting like hell. ÓNow you tell me,Ô Charlie said and I knew he had spilled all he knew. When I swallowed the capsule and washed it down with the Four Roses and ginger ale I said, ÓVito Salvi was ready to do anything to stay alive. He tried to make a deal.Ô ÓOh?Ô ÓIÒll give you something to feed on, Charlie. I want you to go home and think on it hard and youÒll know what I have to do. There canÒt be any cross purposes or interference because on this one weÒll need everybody we can get our hands on and have to pull out all the stops.Ô ÓIÒm waiting, Tiger.Ô ÓYou know how the hot line works?Ô Charlie Corbinet nodded, waiting. ÓYou know about the other one?Ô ÓSuppose you detail it for me,Ô he said. ÓSure.Ô I leaned back and closed my eyes, feeling the capsule beginning to take hold. ÓMoscow has one like it too. All over the country we have ICBMÒs buried and waiting to fly off to pre-designated enemy targets. All we need is a blip on a radar screen or early warning to alert the right person who is the only one who can push the button and start the retaliation in motion. Of course, weÒll all be dead, but revenge will be sweet and before the enemy birds can hit, our own will be on the way.Ô He didnÒt argue, he only murmured, ÓTrue,Ô and listened. ÓAll the birds are tied into an electronic system activated by one push of a single button after the emergencies and fail-safes are off. When theyÒre gone theyÒre gone and an enemy is totally washed out.Ô ÓBut so are we by then.Ô ÓOne man installed the system, or was responsible for it, at least. LetÒs take a premise now. Supposing the one man who installed the system wasnÒt as clean as you thought he was. Supposing that somewhere along the line his thinking got screwed up and he didnÒt want to see all that power and control go into the hands of someone who in his opinion shouldnÒt have that control. Supposing that one man, to satisfy his own desires and warped judgment, installed a system that could by-pass the original pushbutton device and could activate the ICBM system any time he chose to.Ô The room was so still you could hear the breathing from all three of us. ÓA by-pass control,Ô Charlie said quietly. ÓLouis Agrounsky?Ô ÓThatÒs your boy.Ô ÓIf he touches it the Reds will detect the ICBMÒs in flight and let their own birds go. EverybodyÒs had it.Ô ÓThatÒs not the worst part,Ô I told him. I opened my eyes and saw his hands tighten on his glass until the knuckles showed white. ÓIn his circuits he installed a device that can negate our own original system. If the Reds fire first with our system out then we have no comeback at all. And there isnÒt time to run down the by-pass control.Ô ÓThat leaves them sitting on all the eggs. If they find the bypass first they can deactivate us in a second and leave them calling all the shots in a hurry ... or else.Ô ÓOr else,Ô I repeated sleepily. I heard him come out of the chair and knew he was standing close to me now. He said, ÓDo you know where Louis Agrounsky is?Ô After a long while I squeezed my eyes open just a little. Even the dim yellow light from the lamp hurt them. ÓNo.Ô CharlieÒs soft ÓDamn!Ô was like an explosion. I knew I was grinning and couldnÒt help it I knew that if I o
pened my eyes both he and Rondine would be standing there in stunned silence, realizing the wild import of what they had just been told, knowing how close we all stood to the edge of sudden annihilation that would be triggered the minute they knew they had the edge. Slowly, I pulled myself back from the limbo the capsule was sending me into and said, ÓBut I think I know how I can find him.Ô