“Hitlady”
by loseph Patrick Lee
"Who was that lady I saw
you dancing with recently at
Discotheque Mon Arnie? Your
wife?"
"I'm not married and that
woman was no ordinary lady:"
"Really! You sure looked
like you were dancing. What
were you doing?"
"We were wrestling. She
had a gun and was going to kill
me. I was trying to get the gun
away from her. It was a Model
No. 34, Smith and Wesson, .22
caliber. One of those kit guns
popular with assassins here on
the West Coast. It doesn't
make a loud bang, like a .357
Magnum. My friend Mel, who is
an expert on guns, told me all
about this model. Almost all
professional assassins leave
the gun at the scene so it won't
be found with them. The grip is
scored and fingerprints .can't
be taken from the handle."
"Wow! That's exciting. Why
was she going to kill you? Did
you know her?"
'•Never saw her until the
moment before she pulled the
gun and pointed it at me. I was
short-cutting across the
dance-floor among the
dancers when she walked
toward me, smiling. I thought
she was going to ask me to
dance. Then out came the gun.
It's a good thing the finish was
nickel, instead of blue, or I
might not have seen it in
time."’
"Crazy! Weren't you scared?"
"I didn't have time. I just
reacted, grabbed her, and
managed to take the gun away
from her. Then I had the upper
hand with her. I shoved the gun
in her ribs, gently of course, since
she was a lady, and waltzed her
off the dance-floor into the
lounge. I needed a drink and so
did she."
"Of course! That was cool,
man. What happened then?"
"We sat in a booth. I held the
gun pointed at her tummy under
the table. She was rather
flustered. She was quite pretty, I
thought, about 35, smartly dress
ed in a basic black suit, wearing
her titian hair in a boufant style
that framed her face quite nicely.
To the casual observer, we were
a very attractive couple, out on a
date."
"Really! A good looker and
she was going to kill you. Why?"
"We ordered a frozen daiquiri
for her and a double shot of
George Benz Sons Blue Ribbon
100 proof bourbon whiskey for
me. When we had finished the
first drink and had started on the
second, I asked her why she
pointed the gun at me, a
stranger. Strictly business, she
said. She was hired to kill me. On
a contract"
"Hey, man! Do you have
enemies like that? It ain't safe to
be with you! I'm getting out of
I here!"
"Calm down. Your're safe
now. Let me tell the rest of the
story. We were having the third
drink when I asked her who hired
her to kill me. She said she didn't
know. She had a long distance
telephone call from a guy named
Ace Kingqueen. That's probably
a nom de plume, or something. It
is certainly not his real name. He
wanted her husband, Ollie, to
take care of me. The usual way,
like Ollie always did. With
finesse. Clean."
"Fantastic! Just like that. Pret
ty wild, I say."
"As we talked and I asked her
questions, she loosened up
somewhat The drinks helped, I
think. I asked her how come she
was doing this sort of thing for a
living. Killing people, that is."
"Wowsie! She's a shootist For
hire. And a good looking red
head, too. I thought all hitters
were swarthy faced greaseballs
with cauliflower ears and broken
noses. I never heard of a good
looking lady taking up the hit
business."
"Neither had I. So I asked
her how she had chosen hitting
as a career. She said her,hus
band, Ollie, had been one of
the best in the business until he
got killed in a car accident.
Some kid driving while drunk
crossed over the line and hit
his car head-on."
"During his years as the best
hit-man in the business, Ollie
had commanded high fees for
his work. He averaged three or
four hits a month and was mak
ing over a million a year. Their
life-style was commensurate
with that kind of money. He
paid very little taxes. He
reported to the IRS only on in
come he earned writing for
magazines like 'Sports Afield'
and 'Field and Stream.' His
travel expenses were high,
gathering information for the
articles and stories he wrote.
They maintained an apartment
in Chicago and a chalet in Vail,
Colorado. He liked to ski, fish,
and hunt. He could write well
and wrote about his hobbies as
a cover for his real business."
"Far out! A double life and
both very interesting. But tell
me more. How did she get into
the business?" <
"When Ollie was killed in
the accident, this guy Ace
Kingqueen didn't know about
it, or make a connection. Ger
tie, that's her name, got the
call from Ace who wanted
Ollie to do another snuff-job
for him. Gertie told Ace that
Ollie was dead, and that she
knew all about the kind of
work her husband had done for
him. She asked him to let her
continue in her husband's
business, as so many wives do
nowadays. Ace was reluctant,
at first, but when she told him
she needed the money to main
tain her life-style and keep the
girls in Emma Willard's School
for Girls, which is quite expen
sive, he was sympathetic and
agreed. That's how he came to
give her my name."
"That's wild! You were going
to be her first hit and she muff
ed it. What's Ace going to say
about that?"
*"Let me get on with my
story. Gertie and I were having
those drinks and she was get
ting a little smashed and
scared that she wouldn't get
paid for killing me. I asked her
did Ace care about how I died
just so she had a hand in it and
what proof Ace would want
that the job had been done.
She said Ollie always sent the
local newspaper story and obit
to a maildrop in an envelope
addressed to Ace Kingqueen,
P.O. Box No. 69, Olean, New
York. She had planned on sen
ding my obit and story when it
appeared 'The Oregonian.'"
move in with me while we work
ed on the project"
"Sexy, sexy, earthy, earthy!
You were taking a big chance
weren't you? One minute she's
going to kill you and the next
she's moving in with you. What
made you do a dumb thing like
that?"
"Chemistry, my man! The
more I talked with Gertie, the
more I became emotionally in
volved. Here was a damsel in
distress, a sensitive, good-looking
damsel in distress, who needed a
knight in shining armor like me.
It was so natural I just did it No
questions."
"Jehosaphat! I couldn't do
that for love or money. But then
I'm sure you think different than
I do. I lead a rather ordinary life.
My excitement comes from wat
ching people dance and having
fun. Discotheque Mon Arnie is
'Murder, She Wrote' on TV with
us at the time the coroner said he
had died.
Then they put out the story
that he had choked to death
accidentally."
"Amasing! Synchronicity
and coincidence wrapped into
one! What did you do then?"
"Gertie and I managed to
get a copy of the coroner's
report in which foul play was
hinted. That was enough for
her to let Ace know she had
taken care of the assignment.
He was satisfied and paid her
the 100 G's according to the
contract."
"Ho, ho, ho! And Gertie
didn't have to do a thing. But
what puzzles me is this: Did
the right John Smith get hit?"
"That's the amazing part of
the story. John Smith had been
a witness to a murder three
years before. He had testified
in court convincingly enough
to send -a Mafia god-father
type to the prison in Attica,
New York. The Mafia man
didn't like the idea of spending
the rest of his life in that place.
He told his Cosa Nostra friends
to avenge him. We found out
that Ace Kingqueen is in
charge of contracts for the
mob. You might say he is a hit
broker. So that is why Gertie
got the John Smith contract.
Incidentally, John Smith's real
name was Anthony Prosaic. He
was a parking lot attendant in
Brooklyn when he witnessed
the murder. After he testified,
the FBI gave him a new identi
ty and relocated him and Alice
here in Portland. How the
my idea of fun. That's how come Mafia found out John Smith
I saw you and Gertie out there was the Anthony Prosaic they
on the dance floor. And now wanted, we'll never know. We
you're telling this exciting story. assume they had a mole in the
Please, tell me more. How did Bureau."
"What a story! What hap
your investigations go?"
"I live in a high-rise at 12th and pens now? Does Gertie get out
Clay, Clay Towers. As luck would of the business? What are you
have it, we discovered that there going to do about her?"
"You sure ask a lot of ques
were four John Smiths, including
me in the building. I didn't know tions. But that's all right. Ger-
the others, but I did discover that tie is still living with me in the
one of them bore a vague high-rise at 12th and Clay. We
resemblance to me. He was dy- are consoling our friend Alice
ing of cancer and wasn't ex Smith and helping her arrange
pected to live very long. Gertie her affairs. Her husband left
and I got to know Alice Smith, her well off with insurance
John's wife, offering sympathy money and Gertie's 100 grand
and comforting her in any way is helping them put together a
we could. She was distraught little business: a boutique in
over his suffering and told us the Galleria. They are having a
that she believed in euthansea ball, being creative and
and had thought of smothering businesslike. As for me, I just
him with a pillow like she had go around selling siding."
seen the lover do to his sick
"That's great! One last
sweetheart in 'Betty Blue.' That's thing. One last question. What
the French film playing at KOIN happened to the Smith and
Theatre down the street from Wesson, Model No. 34?"
Clay Towers. We agreed that
John Smith would be better off
"Oh, that. The gun is in the top
dying quickly than hanging on drawer of Gertie's desk. It has
and on. We must have been pret become an in-joke and a good
ty convincing because the next luck symbol around the bouti
day he was dead. At first the que. You see Gertie's maiden
police suspected foul play, and name was Wesson so she and
were going to make a case of it Alice call their business, BOUTI
Then they decided it would cost QUE SMITH AND WESSON,
Portland a lot of money. They HIGH CALIBER GIFTS FOR BIC
/
half-suspected Alice, but we pro-, AND LITTLE SHOTS."
"God almighty! That's com
plicated. I presume she'll now
have to work a plan to fake your
death and put the notice in the
paper. But wouldn't 'The Orego
nian' require proof, like a death
certificate, and a coroner's
report, in case of murder or acci
dent? How the hell did you and
Gertie work that out?" ;
"By the application of im
agination, liberally lathered with
genius and luck. I questioned
Gertie carefully about the in
structions Ace had given her. He
told her I was living in Portland
and gave her my address and a
general idea of what I looked
like. He said I was semi-retired.
The name he had given her over
the phone was a very common
one, which is what my name is:
John Smith. As you know, there
are lots of John Smiths in the
greater Portland phone book.
Gertie and I decided to check
them out, one by one, until we
found a John Smith who fit the
other pieces of information Ace
had given her. This was going to vided her with a good alibi by
take time, so I suggested she laying she was watching
"Wow!"
"
J