 Pat Novak. For hire. It's easy to rent yourself out and you make a few bucks, but sooner or later you get burned. It doesn't make any difference whether you're a man or a mouse. Because down in the waterfront in San Francisco they build the traps both ways. It's easy, but sometimes they fool you, like putting shatterproof glass in a fire alarm box. And you gotta watch out every minute. Because down here, if you reach out to help a panhandler, the guy'll take your arm and hand you back the dime. I rent boats and deal anyplace. I put trade-in on a second-hand sole. Works out alright. Sometimes you're on top of the heat. I feel like the kind of heat's they got down. But you gotta get your laughs in a hurry. Because you find out right away you're not gonna make any more headway than a hummingbird in a wind tunnel. I found that out Wednesday afternoon. Must have been about three o'clock. The sun was out down at the far end of the bay. It put a head on the clouds down there and put the rest of the sky in a good mood. Over across the bay it was a warm, easy yellow that made you think of a pound cake full of eggs. It was too nice a day to work inside so I closed shop and started down to a pool hall on Market Street. I never got there because on the way I stopped by the laundry to pick up a couple of shirts. It started right there when the clerk walked over to me. He was full of fears and the soda guy gets a bottle of hand lotion for his birthday. Well, well, Mr. Novak, is it? I don't know, is it? Yes. We have a nice day, haven't we? Yeah, I want some laundry. Not any better than yesterday, though. Not a bit better than yesterday. What do you do? Give them all a rating? How about the laundry, huh? Yes. Let's have the ticket. All right. 428. That should be right down here. Just a couple of shirts. $28. Yes, yes, there it is. That'll be $1.84, please. Well, it sounds like a fair price, but I'll take my own. Own? Own? This isn't mine. It's too big. Are you sure? Look, I had a couple of white shirts. Now you better look again. Well, the tickets match, you see, for $28. You must be wrong, Mr. Novak. Well, look, fellow shirts don't swell. They shrink. The package is too big. Too big? Well, we better open it. Yes. See, I can wrap them again easily. Yeah. It's not my shade of pink. Oh, I guess it's not yours. Thanks. Here's some men's clothing, too. How about these shirts? I were a jockey. I'd take them. I want my own. Well, yes, yes, of course you'd do it. Oh, goodness, I don't know what to do with myself. Yeah, you've got a problem. How about these shirts, though? Oh, we've mixed up the tickets, and someone has your package. True. I don't know how maybe we can check on the collar markings. Let me see. Yeah. Yes, now. Let me check in the book. Here we are. This laundry belongs to Earl Hayes. Yeah, where does he live? Are you going up there? I want my shirts back. Yes. He lives at the 321 Dorset Place. Yeah, give me that. Oh, I'm sorry, Mr. Novak. And please apologize to Mr. Hayes. I'm so angry at myself. I don't know what to do. Yeah, be careful. You don't stop a hole on the floor. See you later. He's wringing his hands and shifting from one foot to another like a small kid in a department store. On the way up to Dorset Place, I looked at the bundle. There were a couple of women's blouses and four loud colored shirts. Two of them looked like a Navajo blanket somebody had sewed buttons on. I tried to wrap up the bundle, and about 10 minutes later, I got to 321 Dorset Place. It was up on Telegraph Hill, and it was an old place somebody had remodeled. It was supposed to be modernistic, but it reminded you of a chromium plated tool shed. Apartment 2A was on the second landing. I went up there and knocked. But old Hayes didn't exit the door, but you couldn't quarrel with what you got. She was in her 30s and pushing 40 hard enough to bruise it. But she looked good standing there in the doorway, long and lean enough to make a greyhound turning this card. She was wearing green lounging pajamas, and you've seen bananas and loose her skins. You could see the bay behind her through the window. She stood there brushing back enough red hair to sell to a mattress factory. As she pushed the door back, she started to smile. Her lips were a pale red color and moist enough to put a desert on its feet. You could tell she thought she used them to talk when you got tired of everything else. Standing there in front of her, you got the same feeling you would if somebody pressed the treble and bass key of an organ at the same time. Hello. What are you selling? Shirts. Is your husband home? Should I have one? I don't know. It depends on the climate. Come on in anyway. All right. Who are you? My name's Novak. I'm looking for a guy named Earl Hayes. You better sit down. It won't take me that long. He's got my shirts. Mr Novak, you don't look like the kind who lose his shirt. I don't want jokes, lady. There was a mix-up down at the laundry. I got Hayes' stuff and he walked off with mine. That his stuff in the bundle? Yes, it is. All right. Put it on the table here. We'll see. I don't think you're smart, Mr Novak. Huh? Where's the other shirt? You've got them all right there. There's one missing. All right. See the laundry. All I want to trade. There must have been another shirt in his bundle. Maybe it was too dirty. The boy couldn't clean it that fast. Now look, friend, if you want to argue, go ride a street car. I came up for two white shirts. Now where are they? I suppose Earl Hayes has them. Where's he? I'll send it to him, but I'm afraid you won't like him. Then I'll be lonely. Just tell me where he is. Two floors up. That'll give you time to work over that story. Yeah. Because you'll know you're lying. You'll want to know about that shirt. What makes it that important? The fact that it's missing. I'll find him upstairs. I hope it works into a friendship. Yeah. But I don't think it will. You'll know you're lying and you'll get tossed around like a green salad. Is he tougher than you? No, he's just not as versatile. Good luck, darling. When she said good luck, you knew she was just being polite and didn't mean it any more than the aim, and when he tells you to watch your step. When I left, she was over by the window, leaning back against the table as shy as a runaway boxcar. And you got the idea she'd be fun to know if you had a lot of money and an oxygen tent. Well, I rolled up the bundle and I started for the fourth floor. I knocked on the door and when it opened, I knew I had high bid for trouble. I could see into the room, and there were three or four gunners sitting inside. I got a dull, anxious look, as if they were trying to find another worm to pull apart. They were the sort of guys who might have been born, but you wouldn't want to bet on it. The one on the door was a big guy with bushy eyebrows that met near his nose, and the way they ran across his face, you got the idea he got tired of the old ones and grafted on a vine instead. His face wasn't much better. He looked more like a relief map than a face. It was pockmarked in the color of moldy bread, and you knew if a woman kissed him, she'd get blood poisoning. Hello, Novak. You were all haze? Enough to suit you. Come in. All right. You're good at guessing names. So little bird told me. Yeah, I saw her. She's got nice feathers. Where's the shirt? Here's the bundle. Take your pick. I don't like any of these, Novak. That's all I got. Where's the shirt, Novak? Just wear a collar, mister. You don't need a shirt. Yeah, I won't need a memory for you, fella. Suit yourself. Tell me about those shirts. Hello. Come on in. We got your boy. What is it? If you made a deer, you know his name. I never saw him before, Max. He looks different now. He came up with some of your shirts. That's true. I went by the laundry. Said a guy named Novak picked up the shirts. Except one of them's missing. It couldn't be missing. They're all in one bundle. Ask him then, but do it nice. He's techy. He doesn't have to ask. Now, look, mister, if you're all haze, I want my shirts. Give us the other one like a trade. You got the best deal you're gonna make, haze. Now, I want those shirts. Get yourself a loom, then. All right. You'll get his. Wait a minute, Max. Sit down, haze. It will take you a second away. That's it. I'll get his other one. All right. But there. Why don't you keep your eye on haze? It's you or haze. Make up your mind. I got it made up about you. You're gonna tie a first Novak. Where's that shirt? I don't know. Try haze. He looks healthy. Hold him up. He's slipping. Do you need handles? Hold him up. You're running out of chances, Novak. Where's that shirt? I don't know. Hold him up. Why? If you can't find the raisins out. How's your temper? The floor's so fast I almost went under the varnish, and I spent the next couple of hours checking on the termites. It was getting dark when I woke up, and right away the room was full of company. The host was Earl Hayes, and he was lying on the floor as dead as a cracked bell. He was over by the desk, lying on his back and grabbing at the rug like a Hoover vacuum. The hair was wet against his head, and the perspiration on his forehead started to break up and run down like tears, so you got the IDA tried out of his hairline instead of his eyes. He didn't seem paining or put off. He was smiling a little as if he realized he had a better deal. Over by the door, Hellman was talking to a couple of coppers. He sent them downstairs and walked over to me. What's the neighbors, Novak? I don't snore that loud, Hellman. You made the noise with Hayes? Yeah. How'd I get my face this way? You look better to me, Novak. How long have you been here? A couple hours. That fits in. The coroner's already been here. He says Hayes was beat to death an hour ago with that poker out of the fireplace. You better check on the prints. I already sent it down. You slept too long. Oh, Inspector. Wake him up. He's right there. Tell the morgue to keep him out till I get down. Come on, Joe. That's it. A little guy. Very easy. Tell him I'll check in a date. I came up here for a shirt. That's not hard to get. What about Hayes? How'd the beats go? It went both ways with a guy named Max. You better talk to him. I like you better. Oh, you're not bright, Hellman. I've been out of the game for two hours. Look, Big Shot, don't push me around. You got a story. Maybe it's good. Maybe it's not. You could have taken Hayes and run into trouble yourself. That's the hard way, Hellman. I don't like your whip. Get another boy. You do, Novak, and you'll do it all downtown. Yeah, Hellman talking. What do you mean you can't send him up yet? He was in charge down there. Give me the guy in charge. Well, two guys just came up here. You must have sent him. They were here. You must have sent him. Yeah. Or you can send him for me. Don't tell me, Hellman. It couldn't happen. No, it couldn't happen to anybody but you, Hellman. It's going to look real good, too, when they find out you let two strangers walk in and steal a body. I don't understand it. It's simple, Hellman. You better go in and rob that bed right now. Because when they're through kicking you around down in headquarters, you're going to need a sling. And with a figure like yours, it'll take a good-sized bedsheet. The phone, he turned the color of early summer squash. He stood over by the window running his hands through his hair. He left the window and stood in the center of the room for a minute. His coat was open and his stomach was piled up on his belt in nice, even layers. It reminded you of a rolled-up garden hose. And the way his pants fit him, when he walked, you got the idea of somebody sewed an anvil in the lining. After a while, he came over and started to talk to me. He kept pulling his ear, and in the dim light there, it looked like the cross-section of an eggplant. I'm still going to hold you, Novak. You'd look better with a hot potato, Hellman. I'm going to hold you for 12 hours. In the meantime, that body will show up. You didn't look that active. Tell me, wake up, Hellman. You've been back into a corner. You better get a body first. Look, Novak. I know the guy was dead. I'm not going to sit on my hands. The most fun you'll ever have. I'm going to check those prints, and I'm going to find out why you were up here. I came to see Hayes. The laundry pulled a switch, and I came up for shirts. Check with the guy at the laundry. Yeah. And on the way downstairs, stop at 2A. Why? There's a souped-up redhead down there. You can ask her a question. You can do that with any woman. You can ask her who Max is. I went there to find Earl Hayes. She answered and sent me here. There's only one thing wrong with that story. There's no redhead in 2A. I checked all the apartments. 2A's been empty for three months. The people are out of town. I think you dreamed her. I don't dream that good in the afternoon. Look, Hellman. I'm walking out of this place, and all you can do is hear the echo. I want to see you go, Novak. Maybe you'll do something wrong, and I'll track you down. You couldn't track down a live bear in a telephone booth. I'll make a try on you, Mr. and when I'm through, there'll be enough to put you right in that gas chamber. They can save money and do the same thing. They can lock me up in the same closet with you. She was wandering around like smoke in a drafty room. I picked up Earl Hayes' shirts and decked by the laundry, but the clerk was gone and the place was closed tighter than the lid on a city scandal. Well, I tried to think back, but nothing made sense. In the first place, what made that shirt so important? And why did the laundry clerk have the wrong address for Earl Hayes? And the main hooker was that body disappearing. Why? If Max killed him, they were in the clear. Why take a gamble like that just for laughs? I knew I had to get some answers pretty soon because Helman wasn't an easy guy. He was a tough, hard cop with a heart big enough to hide behind if he's a birdseed. I had a couple of places to go, so I looked up Jaco Madigan. He's a good guy and he used to be a smart one, except he didn't like the San Francisco fog and worked out one of his own. I finally found him in the hunt room at the Bellevue Hotel. No. The crowd was at one end and he was down at the other. I found out why. Make it one for my baby. Wait a minute, Jaco. Ah, Patsy. I'm singing a little sentimental ballad. All right, Jaco. No, you've had enough. Patsy, I'm a sober as an X-man. I've been drinking since 8 o'clock this afternoon and I'm a sober as an X-man. Stop it, will ya? Patsy, you know I hate whiskey, but do you realize that 85% of the human body is liquid? Now, is there any same reason why all that should be watered? Of course not. It isn't fair. That's why we have communists. Jaco, I'm in trouble. Of course you are. Knowing you, Patsy, is like walking hand in hand with a moral picnic. All right. It's true, Patsy. You have no moral sense. All you have is a small bundle of regret, something that you drag out periodically as proof of your decency. Will ya, sir? You are not even decent enough to regret the things you've done. From some of your conversations about the only things you regret are the things you haven't done. The only reason you haven't caused more trouble is that you're not sleep-footed in. All right, all right. You're hopeless, Patsy. You're like some over-ripe planet, disemboweled and thrown from the skies. You don't know where you're going and you can't remember where you've been. Your only joy is motion and your only sensation's a heat and cold. You all through, Jocko? Yes. What kind of trouble? Hellman wants me for a dead guy. Where is he? He was up on Telegraph Hill, but he's gone now. You didn't die long, did he? Somebody took the body away. That's a funny thing to collect. Oh, none of the story lays right. The guy's name was Earl Hayes. There was a laundry mix-up and I went up there to trade. Yes? Now, look, I want you to hop down and find out everything you can about Earl Hayes. Find out who his friends are. Find out where he's from and see if there's a guy in Max anywhere, will you? Where are you going? I gotta find a girl. I felt that way myself earlier tonight. Will you hurry, Jocko? We don't have time to run your love life. Yes. Well, time is a minor drawback anyway. Good night, lover. It was nearly eleven when I walked out of the bar and the way things were going, I couldn't beat a vagrancy wrap with a pocket full of annuities. I had to find that girl someplace, but it wasn't gonna be easy. You might as well try to french-fry a kettle of bones. I went back up to that apartment to see if she left a pointer anywhere. Helman had a copper rod in front, but he was sitting in somebody's noon nash reading a comic book. I went all through the apartment and on the way out I spotted the matches and the waistbasket. The folder had been used up and on the outside it said Bantan Club, Duval Street, Key West, Florida. Well, that was the first break I got. Most people use their matches fast, so if she was using Key West matches, it must have meant something. I got out into a phone booth and started calling up the hotels. Finally, a hotel upon Taylor said they had Miss Rota Warren on the register from Key West, Florida. For five bucks, a bellhop will tell you anything, so he said she was a redhead. I still didn't know, and when I went up there, she wasn't in. Well, I had to get back to my place for Jaco's calling. When I walked in, I got sorry about that five bucks. Hello, Mr. Novak. You keep bad hours. So do you, and your name's Rota Warren. You like the name? Yeah. Go ahead and use it. It's a phony. How about Max? I don't even know him. When you called him today, you were so pleased, Mr. Novak. You're not big enough for menace. No. No, you're like everybody else in the waterfront. You got the muscles, a few stage whispers, and 30 cents in your pocket. So don't try to make a sale. Except you'd like to buy that shirt. If you want to sell it. What makes it worth a thousand bucks? Your imagination. Five hundred will buy it. You're bad on guesses. Five hundred and Max will do it. Look, I don't have to deal with you, darling. You're a pauper on paper and in your pocket. So I can just sit tight while you sell or go broke. Where's Max? Sell him out if I were in a hole or not. You are. All right. Let's go in my arm. I need some help, lady. I don't know whether you're making love or trouble. Either way, let's go in my arm. Have you figured out yet? Please, you're... You're hurting my arm. Where's Max? Come on. I'll twist you until the skin comes loose. Where is he? I'm with your friends, anyway. Oh, Novak talking. Yeah, I've been out all evening. Whereabouts? Yeah, well, he can't use it anymore. Where are you? The Compton? Yeah, thanks. A laundry clerk? Yeah, you found that shirt. Yeah, I'm not the loser's own. I'm wishing good luck. Well, he needed it? Well, maybe not. But he ought to take it while it's cheap. She's a good depressor for Max now. If she was going to temper Mitch, she'd do it on her own. I left my place and grabbed a cab for the piers. I got out near a market and walked over to the laundry. The back window opened up like a hunk of sky after a bad rain. I found the shirt lying out on a table. It looked like the rest of Earl Hayes' shirts, except for one thing. The collar was full of writing, a few letters and a lot of numbers. I took them down, left the shirt and headed for my place. I got one of those shirts from that bundle and copied in some of the same numbers. Then I picked up a cab for Roto Warren's hotel. For another fin, the bellhop went blind and I got into her room about 12.30. Her room was empty, but her bags were packed on the bed. I took a 60-40 chance and planted the shirt in the bottom of one of the bags. I told the bellhop to tip me off when she came in and I started back to my place to wait for Jaco's call. I did about as well as a bottle of Scotch in a Louisville bar. A squad car picked me up at the corner and said Helman had a call out for me. About 20 minutes later, we pulled up to Pier 19. Helman was waiting there, moving around like a pea in a boiling stew. I don't know, Beck. Walk me down the pier. Find a crutch. What's on your mind, Helman? Walk me down the pier. All right, but I won't take your arm. They found a body. How? Radar? Almost. The Coast Guard boats spotted and floated on the bed. They radioed in. We're hauling them up now. We're all busy. I found a shirt, too. Well, we may not need it, but those fingerprints worked out just right. Well, if they're mine, it's too pat, Helman. You're too smart to cop to buy that kind of plant. I'm a smart enough cop to hold you, now that we've got Earl Hayes. Here we are. Yeah. Yeah, got him down there. Yeah, I was passing him out to grab the haul bag. Yeah, I'll get him. That water shirt changed him, Helman. There's a mistake. Another plant, Helman. He's the laundry clerk. What was he doing out in the bay? Maybe that's the way they do the laundry, now. I'm going home, Helman. You better stand on his chest. Huh? That way they can't steal him without taking you, too. 60-40 was beginning to pay off. Somebody was gathering up the loose ends, and it was going to be easier now because things were getting tight. But you can say that for a lot of wedding rings. So I bummed a ride, and I got to my place about a half hour later. I had some trouble there because the cop on duty wanted to take me down up here in 19 again. He looked west full, so I told him about a place down the street where he might catch a peeping time, and I finally got rid of him long enough to get up to the room. As I walked in the door, the phone was ringing. What did you find out? Oh, hey. For instance, he's wanted for smuggling. Yeah? What else? He had a girlfriend. No pictures here. What's he look like? Oh, I haven't had enough experience. That's the same one, I guess. What else? And oh, hey, he's once served a prison term with a man named Max Doffer. That's our boy. What do you got on him? He lives here now, and he runs a business out on Van Lash Avenue. What kind of business? It's going to sound funny. He runs a funeral parlor. Well, what does that prove? It doesn't prove a thing, just because you're a perfume salesman, you don't have to smell pretty. He began to slip into place. I could see now why everybody wanted that shirt, and the reason why Earl Hayes disappeared was 10 feet tall. I called Hellman, he said he knew all about Max Doffer, and we had a squad car on the way out. I met him at the corner of Geary and Taylor, and we rode out to Van S. Max Doffer's funeral parlor was over near Pine. When we pulled up, the lights were out except for a lamp in the front room. Hellman walked in the front door without knocking, and we turned in where the light was. It was a big night for stiffs, and there were three or four caskets along the wall. In the center, over near the fireplace, there was a casket on wheels. The plate on the outside said a man named Peter Dawson had the lease. Hellman was about to start upstairs when a door in the bag opened. Not too dead to talk to you, Stoffer. He's Inspector Hellman from Homicide. The bag looks heavy. You talking to you or me, Max? Where's she going? I'm putting her on a train, Novak. Do you care? It's up to Hellman. He wants you for killing Earl Hayes. I thought he disappeared. I'll add on the laundry clerk, too, after I visit the train. You put her on that train, she'll get off at the next station, Stoffer. Huh? She gave you a bad story. That shirt you got's a phony. Wait a minute. Save yourself some time, mister. Check her bag. Oh, he's crazy, Max. Make the odds, fella. Let me see that bag. Take a look. He's trying to stampede you, Max. Give it here. No, underneath there. The other side. There's no shirt in here. Why do you drag? I'll beat about you, lady. You're crazy. You're crazy to tell him. I'll tell him all about it. I'll tell you every word. All right. Don't forget yourself, big shot. You put that shirt in there, and you lied to him. Yeah. You lied to him, and he thought I did. He thought I lied to him. What's the difference as long as you kill him, you still get a prize? This morning was easy for Hellman. He shipped the girl for the story on those shirts. The markings on the collar were bill of lading numbers on stuff going to the islands. Everybody was being watched, so they had to handle it that way. Earl Hayes used to leave the shirts in that laundry, and each time somebody along the line marked one of the shirts. Hayes took the shirts to Max, and he got the information to the right people in the islands. Out there, they had a line on what to hijack. Most of the stuff was gold, and it was a good game for everybody, until that laundry clerk made a goofy mistake. He got the bundles mixed, and he left one shirt out. When Hayes picked up the wrong bundle, the girl and Max thought a double cross was on their way. After Max worked me over and killed Hayes, he went down to the laundry shop, and he couldn't find the shirt. He could only think of one thing. Hayes had the shirt on, so he got him out of that apartment. Once he had him out, he figured the easy thing to do was to make him disappear for good. He put him in a casket with another guy on his way to the bow and yard. In the meantime, the clerk found the shirt and recalled me. The girl overheard the conversation and figured the laundry clerk had the shirt with him. She got in a beef and killed him. She went down to that laundry after me and picked up the shirt. Well, from there on, the cards fell the wrong way. Well, Herman asked only one question. That laundry clerk was an innocent guy. Wasn't it too bad he got knocked off? Well, I don't know. When you think of how many buttons you lose in a year, it doesn't seem so bad. That Novak for hire was previously released by ABC, the American Broadcasting Company for listeners in the United States and rebroadcast for our men and women overseas. This is the United States Armed Forces Radio...