The Deep by Mickey Spillane

it.
    Every motion I made was instinctive. My mind was a numb thing that wanted to see or know nothing, shocked with the knowledge that Helen, who lay there sprawled half off the couch with a thin line of blood running down her cheek, was dead too.
    My fingers found a pulse, then my mind came back alive again and I lifted her to the couch. The crazy mad inside me made my hands shake and pulled my body so tight that every movement was almost awkward.
    There was a lump under her hair and the skin was broken, but it was no more than that. I wet a towel, wiped her face and waited until a soft moan moved her mouth.
    â€œHelen ... Helen.”
    She moved her head and her eyes squinted with agony. I held the towel against her and stroked her face until she opened her eyes. They were blank at first, then puzzled. I said, “What happened, honey?”
    Memory of it returned slowly. I could see it come back, reaching for an answer. “Deep?”
    I squeezed her face gently. “You’re okay, baby?”
    Plaintively she said, “Deep?”
    â€œEasy, sugar. It’s me.”
    Then it hit her all at once and her eyes were great big things alive with terror and before she could scream I put my hand over her mouth and held her head close to me.
    When it passed I looked down at her. “What happened?”
    Her tongue wet her lips. “The door ... I answered the door. I thought it was ... you.” Her eyes were wide, staring at me.
    â€œIt wasn’t me, baby.”
    â€œWhen I took the lock off ... it flew open. I fell down ... and then something ...” she sucked in a breath jerkily, “... Deep, what happened?”
    â€œYou got slammed on the head, kid.”
    â€œBut who ...”
    â€œI don’t know. He got me too.”
    â€œDeep ...” She reached up and touched my face. “What happened to ... Tally?”
    â€œShe’s dead, Helen.”
    â€œNo!” She bit into her lower lip to hold back a cry, her eyes filling up. Then she could hold it no longer and let it all come out of her in huge, gasping sobs that racked her whole body and I held her tightly until it passed.
    I wiped her face again and sat her upright, and when I knew she was thinking clearly again I said, “Now, listen, kid. Can you remember anything about him at all?”
    She shook her head. “Only ... what I told you.”
    â€œYou didn’t see his face? How was he dressed?”
    â€œNo. It happened ... too fast.”
    â€œDid he talk?”
    â€œNo. I... don’t know. No, he didn’t say anything.” She frowned at me and glanced around the room. “Did you ... bring me here?”
    â€œNot me. He did,” I told her. “He wanted Tally. He dragged you in here and killed Tally.”
    A shudder ran through her body and she stiffened under my hands. “But why, Deep ... why?”
    â€œI don’t know yet. I’ll find out though.”
    â€œWhat will we do?” Her voice caught in her throat.
    â€œCall in the blues, kid. There’s nothing else to do.”
    â€œBut Tally ...”
    â€œShe was important to somebody. Now she’s dead. Look, are you all right? Can I ask you things?”
    â€œI’m ... all right.”
    â€œGood. Now don’t make any mistakes. We haven’t much time. Tell me what happened since you got back here.”
    She licked at her lips and brushed her hair back from her face. Even though she was sitting on the ragged edge of hysteria she managed to stay on top of it all the way. She let the tautness ease out of her body, then she clasped her hands in her lap and stared at the floor, thinking back.
    â€œThe doctor was here then. He said she was all right and gave her something. A ... sedative, I think. Mrs. Gleason from next door ... that’s the one who stayed with her ... went back as long as I was here. I fed her when she woke up and ...”
    â€œShe say anything?”
    â€œNothing ...