Dressed to Killed by Milton Ozaki Read Free Book Online

most of the talking, while Richmond nodded his head gravely, like a banker listening to an application for a loan. He ended the conversation suddenly and pronged the receiver.
    When he returned to the table, I was sucking water from the remaining ice cube in my glass. He sat down heavily. "It's all set," he informed me. "You can see the stuff right now." He eyed me expectantly, as though waiting for me to break into a Northwestern cheer.
    "Okay," I said. "Where is it?"
    "Not far. You've got a car, haven't you?"
    "Yeah."
    "Well, let's go." He stood up. This was not the way I had planned it, but I had no alternative. I got up, followed him out of the joint, and pointed to where the Pontiac was parked. When we were in the car, he began doling out directions. We went north to Diversey, west to Halsted, north to Belmont, west again for a couple blocks, then a block south.
    "Here," Richmond said abruptly, motioning me to park.
    I braked the car and swerved it to the curb. We were in front of an old frame residence, all the shades of which were drawn. Richmond got out of the car and started down a gravel driveway, toward a large ramshackle building in the rear. I looked up and down the deserted street, then hurried after him. He reached the building, glanced around to see if I was with him, then rapped loudly upon a small side door.
    A male voice inside asked: "Yeah?"
    "It's me," Richmond growled. "Let us in."
    A bolt rasped back and the door opened several inches. Richmond shouldered it impatiently and it swung back, banging heavily against an inner wall. "Come on," he said, holding the door open for me. "Get in quick."
    I stepped past him—and immediately realized my mistake. His hand rammed against my shoulder, hurling me into a sprawling fall, like a kid belly-flopping off a low pier into shallow water. I made a five-point landing on rough concrete, rolled over once, and got groggily to my feet, trying to push the skin back onto my nose.
    Richmond stood with his back against the closed door.
    "You sonuvabitching shamus!" he gritted harshly.
    I backed away from him, trying to orientate myself. The building, in spite of its ramshackle outer appearance, was solidly constructed. It looked as if it had been a barn at one time, for its walls and ceiling were sturdily beamed and the far end of it was still divided into what might have been stalls. Lately, it had been used as a machine shop. Along one wall, a machinist's workbench stretched, the wall above it bearing a display of assorted bench tools.
    I saw that much—and then my eyes found the owner of the other voice. He was big, muscular, built high and solid as a concrete John. His greasy coveralls stretched taut over thick arms and wide shoulders, making him look like a khaki-skinned giant who'd been wallowing in oil. He grinned at me and made a noise in his throat.
    "Get the bastard, Sam," Richmond urged. "Kick some of the crap out of him!"
    "You're making a mistake," I said, moving back warily so I could keep both of them within my range of vision.
    "Like hell!" Richmond snorted. "Go after him, Sam. By God, if you don't, I will!" He began peeling off the blue serge coat.
    Sam made another noise in his throat and approached, swinging his arms, waiting for me to make a break.
    Frankly, I'm no hero. But the army forced me to learn some of the tricks of close combat and if I'm pushed I'll fight as dirty as the next guy.
    "I kill you!" Sam muttered, proving that he could talk too.
    "What are you waiting for?" I jeered. "For me to get dizzy and fall down?"
    He lunged, punishing the air with a huge fist. I bent my knees and came up inside his swing. While he was still off-balance, I planted a left and a right below his belt, where I thought they'd do him the least good. They were solid punches, so solid that my elbows seemed to rattle, but it was like tickling a sandbag. He grinned, blew spit at me, and getting an arm about me, he pulled me toward his chest. I socked a knee into his