Colby - Make Mine Vengeance

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MakeMine Vengeance

byRobert Colby

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Copyright(c)1959 by Robert Colby.

Wildside

http://www.wildsidepress.com/index2.htm

Mystery

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NOTICE:This work is copyrighted. It is licensed only for use by the originalpurchaser. Duplication or distribution of this work by email, floppydisk, network, paper print out, or any other method is a violation ofinternational copyright law and subjects the violator to severe finesand/or imprisonment.

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_Other books by Robert Colby_

*Fiction*

_Beautiful but Bad_

_Executive Wife_

_The California Crime Book_

_The Captain Must Die_

_The Faster She Runs_

_Murder Times Five_

_Run for the Money_

_Secret of the Second Door_

_The Star Trap_

_These Lonely, These Dead_

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_MAKE MINE VENGEANCE_

_ROBERT COLBY_

*WILDSIDE PRESS*

_Berkeley Heights, New Jersey_

Originally published in 1959 by Avon Publications, Inc. ThatAvon Original edition copyright (C) 1959 by Robert Colby. ThisWildside edition copyright (C) 2002 by Robert Colby.

All rights reserved.

First Wildside Press edition: January 2001

_MakeMine Vengeance_

Apublication of

_WildsidePress_

P.O.Box 45

Gillette,NJ 07933-0045

www.wildsidepress.com

*SECONDEDITION*

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Chapter One

His name was Gil Ballard. And though at 31 he was six feet twoinches tall and weighed 203 pounds, much of it muscle, he waseasygoing and had not been mad enough to bruise anyone for years.

Until now.

Until this moment at two o'clock in the morning where acrossthe road from where his car was parked, a bar called the Gold Reefwas locking its doors and blacking its lights.

Of course he had been angry enough to kill three mentwenty-three days and five hours ago. But that had been quiteimpossible because at the time he had been conscious only for shortperiods. And though in two days he recovered his wits, it was threeweeks before he got out of the hospital. Three weeks while theyreturned what had been a very straight and well-proportioned nose toa reasonable facsimile oGBP the same; while they patched a widegood-humored mouth so that it could smile again -- if it wanted to -- and not reveal anything of the ugly, three-tooth gap that hadbeen bridged with good dentistry. They also had to mend the cleanshelf of jaw, sew the cuts under the quietly intelligent gray-greeneyes and reduce the right temple swelling below the dark wave ofhair.

Altogether it had been a neat job all seven hundred and fiftydollars worth. And while the face had never been pretty, it was stillhandsome in a rugged way and the scars didn't show except on veryclose inspection. But there were scars that were not of the face.

But perhaps the hardest part to take was that the beating hadbeen so completely unnecessary. It was about as motivated as some ofthose teenage-gang clubbings of strangers. And these men had passedadolescence long ago.

Motivated or not, someone was going to pay. And only part ofthe payment would be financial.

The Gold Reef was dark now. Everyone had left but thebartender-owner Beef Costigan. He was a ponderous, balding ape of aman with the squat chunkiness of a wrestler. No one seemed to knowanything about him except that he had come south from Chicago withenough coin to set up the Gold Reef on coast Highway A1A above Miamiand south of the swank area known as Golden Beach.

Ballard got out of his Pontiac and walked across the road tothe darkened parking area beside the bar. A pale blue Olds was thesingle remaining car in the lot. It figured to belong to Costigan, soBallard leaned against a fender and waited.

He saw now that there was a faint illumination from a windownear the side door which he had not been able to glimpse from theroad. When this too winked off, he flipped the cigarette he had beensmoking into darkness and watched the door attentively.

In a moment Costigan came out, fumbled with the lock andlumbered over to the Olds. He did not see Ballard until he was almoston top of him.

"What the hell!" he said, and paused in midstride topeer into the gloom. "Who's that?"

"Come here and see, Costigan."

"That you, Marty?"

Ballard did not reply and Costigan moved in closer with a warystep. When he paused again three feet away, Ballard took the pencilflash from his pocket and shined it on his own face.

Costigan craned forward, said, "Who the goddamn hell areyou?"

"What do you think, Costigan? Did they do a good jobgluing the pieces back together?"

"Christ!" said Costigan. "Ballard, ain't it?"

"That's right, Costigan. They let me out of the hospitalthis morning. Three weeks and two days, seven hundred and fifty bucksworth of patching and stitching, toss in free phony teeth." Helowered the light.

"So? What ya want with me? I didn't have nothin' to dowith it."

"You stood there and watched it happen, Costigan. I didn'tsee you interfere."

"Hell," said Costigan, "guys like that it don'tpay to interfere."

"What do you mean, guys like that? Sounds like you knowthem, Costigan."

"Nah. I don't know 'em. They ain't been in maybe ... two,three times."

"Sure, that's what you told the police. But while I wassitting at the bar, you were in a real chummy huddle with them overin a corner."

"Just passin' the time."

"Costigan -- listen to me. You're gonna pass some timeon your back if I don't get those names. A whole lot of time. You'rea lousy liar."

"Don't get hard with me, pal. I tole the cops, I tell you,I don't know those bums."

Ballard could see that Costigan was not the type to beconvinced with conversation. He pocketed the flash and moved in. Hegave the barkeep two sharp open-handed blows across the face andfollowed it with a piston jab to the belly that made Costigan do agroaning bend.

He didn't see the knife until Costigan had sneaked it out ofhis back pocket and flicked the long blade open.

"I'm gonna cut you," said Beef Costigan. "I'mgonna eat you good. This time you won't be back."

Until now the anger in Ballard had been idling, waiting tothrust itself at the real enemy. But the knife brought a change inhim. As with the episode in the bar, there again was a sneakyadvantage. The knife multiplied the forces against him unfairly sothat the bartender seemed to join the opposition openly when heflashed the blade.

Ordinarily Ballard would have had a justifiable fear of theknife. But now it only triggered the hatred that had been building inhim.

"That was where you made your big mistake, Beef," hesaid pleasantly. "You would have been all right if you'd justanswered a few questions and kept that toy in your pocket."

Costigan advanced with the blade held low. His movements wereuncertain, cautious. Apparently he did not understand men who werenot afraid of a knife.

Ballard stood immobile and waited. But when the knife arcedupward at him, he side-stepped gracefully and hammered Costigan's earwith a blow that staggered him off balance. The second blow fell onthe side of Costigan's jaw before he could recover. Ballard caughthim from behind as he was falling and hammer-locked his windpipeuntil the knife hand was limp and he was able to reach out and pluckit from loose fingers. Then he pulled Costigan to the ground andswung over him, pinning his arms with the heavy grind of knees.

Now Ballard touched the point of the knife to the tender spotjust below Costigan's right eye. "I won't make you guess whatI'm going to do next," he said. "I'm going to perform alittle surgery, Costigan. I want your face to look like mine did.Let's see -- first we'll slice around the eyes, then the head andthe nose. From there we'll slash the lips a bit. And while we're atit, we'll bash in a few teeth and finish by carving the jaw."