Pat Novak Says...

I tried to get to my feet once but it wasn't easy. It was like trying to push a basketball through a stovepipe. I think it was close to 11 when I got out to the street. I didn't even buy a paper to find out about the fight. I grabbed a cab and went up to my apartment to iron out my spine. It was a good idea, but the girl at the desk had a message from Hans Neumeier. He was out at the California General Hospital, and he wanted to see me right away.

When I got there, he was at the end of a ward on the third floor, but the duty nurse wouldn't let me by. Well, she was a real pretty nurse, if you liked pure mammal. Somebody buzzed and when she oozed down the hall, I ducked into the ward and started looking for Hans Neumeier.

- Pat Novak for Hire, March 20, 1949 - "Rory Malone"

Pat Novak Says...

"Well it was good to get out of there. When she started walking toward you, you felt like a shovelful of scrap iron in a Pittsburgh blast furnace."

- Pat Novak for Hire, April 23, 1949 - "Rita Malloy"

Pat Novak Says...

"The captain didn't like company. When he hit me, I dropped down to the floor like a piece of hard-working lint. The last thing I remember was Sam Tolliver, sending me out to this boat. I knew then I had no more business here than second trumpet in a string quartet. I could hear voices and people moving around, but it didn't help much. You could get that kind of service in a tomb.

"Somewhere along the line they moved me, because when I woke up, I was lying in a cloud of platine on a different couch in a cabin. The class of people had improved. She was bending over me with a cold towel and a warm look. And from where I was, she had a figure like a shot of brandy on a winter night. When she said hello, you knew that all you had to do was send up a flare and relax."

- Pat Novak for Hire, April 4, 1949 - "Sam Tolliver"

Pat Novak Says...

"Well it began to rain, and, I figured it'd be easier to float out to the street, so I went to sleep. When I woke up, the rain hadn't helped the alley much. It's like washing your kid's face and finding out he was ugly to start with. The mud had washed up against the walls, and there was a thick, sour smell, and down the alley across the street, there was a part of a sign sticking out that said 'Eats.' And that isn't what you felt like at all. I started groping around to get up and my hand hit the pictures. They were scattered all over like clothes in a boarding school. I picked 'em up and started for the street."

- Pat Novak for Hire, March 13, 1949 - "Rubin Callaway's Pictures"

Pat Novak Says...

"A few minutes later, the cab pulled up in front of a hotel on Geary Street, and we walked in. One look at that lobby and you got the idea. The place was about as cozy as an abandoned mine shaft. Over by the wall, there was an old mohair couch, and the legs on it were so warped, pretty soon, it was going to look like period furniture. There were a few chairs, and over by the stairs, a faded calendar of a girl in tights holding a jar of mayonnaise and winking, whatever that meant. And there was a broken clock over the desk. But you knew it was all right, because nobody there cared about keeping track of time, it was something you got rid of in a hurry, like a bent quarter.

"Well, we went up to the second floor, we walked down a long hall that smelled like an anteroom to a sewer. When Feldman knocked on the door, she opened it right away. The room was full of taboo. She stood leaning there for a minute, the sort of a girl who moves when she stands still. She had blonde hair. And she was kind of pretty. Except you could see somebody had used her badly, like a dictionary in a stupid family. Feldman seemed to know her."

- Pat Novak for Hire, April 2, 1949 - "Father Lahey"

Jocko Madigan Says...

"You always have a problem, Patsy, because you can't keep out of trouble. You know that, don't you. You have no self-control . . . You have no more self-control than a bucket of mercury dumped on a marble staircase . . . Oh, you, you're like some violent disorder in nature, some large but unprofitable storm. You keep whirling in circles, Patsy. If you ever go more than 10 feet in one direction, it's because some woman is 9 feet away. Then it begins all over again."

- Jocko Madigan, ex-doctor, drunk, and aide-de-camp to Pat Novak for Hire, May 21, 1949 - "Envelope for John St. John."

Pat Novak Says...

"Jocko was right about the neighborhood. When I left him, I doubled by my place and left the envelope. I put it inside another envelope, and stashed it behind some books, and then I headed out to look up John St. John. Oh, it must have been about midnight when I got there, and it was the kind of a neighborhood where a For Rent sign reads like a ransom note. I found the place, though. It was an old rooming house. A third floor apartment. I knocked at the door, and when she opened it, I knew it was time to wire home for money. A tall, blonde blister with lots of Fahrenheit. She stood there, leaning against the door, smiling, looking at me as if I had gold plated muscles. It gave you a weak feeling where your dinner ought to be. And her voice came right out of the oven."

- Pat Novak, for Hire, May 21, 1949 - "Envelope for John St. John"

Pat Novak Says...

"Sure, I'm Pat Novak. For hire. That's what the sign out in front of my office says: Pat Novak, For Hire. Down on the waterfront in San Francisco, you don't get prizes for being subtle. You want to make a living down here, you've got to get your hand in the till any way you can. You rob Peter to pay Paul, and then you put it on the cuff. Oh, I rent boats, tell a few white lies, if the price is right. It's a happy life, if you don't mind looking up at a headstone, because sooner or later, you draw trouble a size too big.

"I found that out Tuesday night. It was raining, and the street was as deserted as a warm bottle of beer. Must have been about 11 o'clock when I came out of the office and started down the waterfront. As I got near the corner, I stopped. An old man stepped out of the darkness and started across the street. It was a short trip, because a car started up down the street, and the old man couldn't have made it with a pocketful of aces. I started over to him. The car slowed down for a minute, and then turned the corner and disappeared. As it passed under the streetlight, I caught a glimpse of the license plate in a dull, surprised way, the way you grab a feather out of an angel's wing. I bent over the old man and rolled him on his back. He didn't seem to be in pain. He was just an old man with the frightened look of a small boy in a storm. He was breathing hard as I cushioned his head."

- Pat Novak for Hire, May 21, 1949 - "Envelope for John St. John"

Pat Novak Says...

"I had some of the answers, but not enough. It’s like trying to weave a rug with a spinning wheel and a bucket of sand.”

- Pat Novak, Feb 20, 1949 – “Jack of Clubs”

Pat Novak Says...

"Well, I watched her as she turned and walk out of there. It was the kind of a walk that makes you flip the calendar and find out how far away Spring is. I looked around a while, but it didn't do any good, the place was full of doors, so whoever killed Fleet Lady got out easy, like a rumor at a Church Picnic. I closed the door and went down the line to call headquarters. As I stood there talking, I saw Sybil Thornton drive away. It was a long convertible with red asbestos seat covers. After I called headquarters, I went back and waited by the stable. About a half hour later, a police car pulled up, and when I saw who got out, I began to get unhappy, like a three-legged man at a ballet school. It was Hellman from Homicide and he had a squad with him."

-- from Pat Novak for Hire March 6, 1949 - "Fleet Lady"

Pat Novak Says...

"Well, I watched her for a minute as she brushed her hair back and started the car. It was nice hair, and the dress helped too. It was dark blue and had a v-neck, but the designer believed in big letters. She pulled away, and gave me a look you could take on a safari. It was enough to tell me she was as safe as a tap dancer on a floor full of dynamite caps. I walked up and turned in at Pier 19. When I reached the door of the office, I could see the old man sitting by the desk. He looked tired, and a year older than the Bible. His hands were shaking and his skin was coarse and the color of an old razor strap. When I walked in, he glanced up at me and looked about as happy as a Cocker Spaniel with a stomach ache."

From Pat Novak for Hire March 30, 1949 - "Rory Malone."

Pat Novak Says...

"I closed the shop early and I came home to read. Well, it wasn't a bad book, if you ever wanted to start a forest fire. It was one of those historical things, and the girl was just getting her second wind and her third man, when the door to my apartment opened, and the place began to get crowded. From where I sat, the crowd looked good. She sauntered in, moving slowly from side to side like a hundred and eighteen pounds of warm smoke. Her voice was alright, too. Reminded you of a furnace, full of marshmallows."

From Pat Novak for Hire November 24, 1946 - "Go Away, Dixie Gillian"