The Day of the Guns

The Day of the Guns by Mickey Spillane Page B

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Authors: Mickey Spillane
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What we must do is find the source of this security leak and block it. We can’t always be making last-minute decisions ... we need time for discussion and communication, so this arrangement is in the way of a trial balloon. Is that understood?”
    Again, there were acknowledging nods. Then the tall, thin one called Beaver said, “And Mr. Mann’s part ... ?” He let it hang there.
    “Have you something to say, Tiger?”
    “No offense intended,” I said, “but I’d like you to run a security check on all your clerical help.”
    “Mr. Mann ...” Case started.
    I held up my hand. “Our people will do the same. I know they’ve been cleared once, but go through it again. There might have been new developments.”
    “Am I to understand that you have someone in mind?”
    “You might try Edith Caine.”
    His frown deepened into a scowl and his eyes bit into mine. “I happen to know the family well.”
    “How well do you know Edith?”
    “Quite well, sir.”
    “For how long?”
    He drew himself up and there was an edge to his voice. “Ever since she was a child.”
    I knew I had him then. I said, “You recommended her for government service, didn’t you?”
    “Among others, yes. She came to see me, renew an old friendship and I was instrumental in bringing her here.”
    “Uh-huh. How long had it been since you had seen her before.” He frowned again. “Well ... I don’t quite understand. ... ”
    “How long, Mr. Case?”
    He saw what I was getting at and his mouth tightened. “Not since she was eight or nine. Of course, her family had sent her to schools both in England and abroad. Since she was the youngest I rarely had occasion to do more than inquire about her ... but this is sheer foolishness!”
    I stood up. “Is it?”
    “Indeed it is. However, to satisfy you we will check her through again. I hope it will satisfy you.”
    “It will,” I told him.
    Charlie took over then. He gave them an address, told them not to write it down and repeated the time of the meeting. There was nothing more. On the way out I managed to get in step with Case and take some of the sting out of what he had to do by reminding him a double check could not hurt and only clear everyone not involved once and for all and helped the possibility of stemming the leak. He finally gave me a friendly grin and admitted I was right.
    I said, “Where’s your sidekick today?”
    “Sidekick?”
    “Burton Selwick.”
    “Oh.” He gave a sympathetic squint and said, “He had another attack last night. Took him to the hospital. Chap works too hard. He’s been warned and knows better, but it’s a demanding job.”
    “What’s wrong with him?”
    “Ulcers. He’s going under the knife shortly. Right now he’s at home, but if I know him he’ll be present today.”
    “Tell him hello for me.”
    “I’ll do that, Mr. Mann ... and good hunting. I do hope you are mistaken in your premise, but if you aren’t, well...”
    “Sure,” I said.
    We separated at the elevator and Charlie Corbinet and I rode it down to the first floor. After picking up the hats and raincoats we went out to the street and without hesitation, he started north at a fast walk. I let him alone for a full block, knowing what he was doing ... looking for a group to fall in behind so that when he spoke there would be no chance of being picked up by any mobile parabolic microphone that might be tracking us.
    Three women and a kid were up ahead so we fell in behind him and I said, “Thanks for the party, Charlie, but that wasn’t the reason you wanted to see me. I’m short on time.”
    He turned his head and made a wry face. “You’ve opened up a dangerous avenue of thought.”
    “No kidding.”
    “After you left the other day,” he said, “I made several calls to some old friends in British Intelligence. They aren’t working at it now, of course, but I finally found one who tracked down an assistant of Price Richards. Luckily, he was a man with a remarkable

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