“What is your angle?” Lasher asked easily.
“Russian hand-guns. Lenski twelve-oh-sevens, to be explicit.”
“Oh.” Armin Lasher’s expression and voice betrayed only mild interest. “What the devil are they, Shamus?”
Shayne got out a cigarette and lit it. “I think you know as much about them as I do.”
Lasher said, “Maybe. How much do you know?”
Shayne said, “I know they pack one hell of a wallop. And I know that two men have been murdered in the last couple of hours on account of them. By two of your boys, Lasher.”
“Is that so?” he murmured. “My boys do get around, don’t they? Can you prove that, Shayne?”
“I can prove enough to make it damned hot for them in Miami.”
“Why come to me?” asked Lasher indifferently. “If some of my boys have been getting out of line… and if you can prove it… they’ll have to take the consequences.”
Shayne said, “I’m really here to make a trade, Lasher. How many Lenskis for a woman named Molly Morgan… delivered all in one piece?”
This time, Shayne saw, he did get through to the gangster. Lasher’s head jerked and his eyes became hard and probing. “Come again,” he ejaculated.
“I’m suggesting a trade,” Shayne told him evenly. “You’ve got Molly… I’ve got the Lenskis.”
Lasher said, “I don’t know any Molly. Never heard of a dame by that name. What’s eating you, Shayne?”
The detective shrugged and leaned back to take a deep drag on his cigarette. “All right. I’ll settle for Dixie and Bull. I’m taking them in, Lasher, on a charge of murder. And I think I can prove they were acting on direct orders from you.”
“Dixie and Bull?” Lasher leaned back and laughed easily. “They’re real nice boys. Wouldn’t either one of them hurt a fly. What’s this murder you’re talking about?”
“Not one. Two, Lasher. Tonight. And a kidnapping on top of that.” He leaned forward angrily. “You can’t cover this up. Play ball with me or by God they’re both going to fry… and when they fry they’ll squeal like stuck pigs, and I think maybe you’ll fry with them, Lasher. Think that over very carefully before you try to brush it off.”
“You scare hell out of me,” Lasher told him indifferently. “Bull and Dixie, you say? Those two boys have been playing penny ante in a back room here since six o’clock this evening. There’s five witnesses that’ll swear to that in any court.”
Shayne said bitterly, “I’ll bet.”
“You’d better bet.” Lasher leaned forward and his black eyes glittered. “Now. Maybe you better tell me what the hell this is all about… now we got it settled that my boys have got alibis.”
Shayne said carefully, “Their alibis won’t stand up, Lasher. They were seen driving away from Captain Ruffer’s house a little over an hour ago… and not more than five minutes before he was found lying dead with three of his fingernails torn out by the roots. They played too rough with the old captain,” he went on dispassionately. “He wasn’t in any physical condition to take that kind of treatment, and so you didn’t get the information you wanted from him. You still don’t know where to find that shipment of Russian guns.”
Lasher said flatly, “I’ve got five witnesses that’ll say they been playing poker steady since six o’clock. Who’s your witness that’ll say different?”
“Me.” Shayne tapped his own chest. “The name is Mike Shayne, Lasher. It was my car they damned near ran down without any lights making their get-away. I don’t know who your five witnesses are, but I’ll enjoy calling them liars in court when Dixie and Bull are on trial for murdering Captain Ruffer.”
Lasher shook his head. “They didn’t kill him, Shayne. He was already dead by the time they got to him. They felt real bad about that because they figure that whoever killed him got the info they were after.”
Shayne said, “Even if they can prove that… which I doubt… they still have to answer for the death of the old pawnbroker.”
“How do you figure that?”
“Because they were seen going into the store by his wife who was looking out an upstairs window. And the only way they could possibly have got Ruffer’s name and address was from Wilshinskis.”
“I don’t know anything about anybody with a name like that,” Lasher told him drily. “Neither do the boys. I sent them to Ruffer, Shayne. I admit I am interested in the Lenskis floating around Miami and hoped to get a line on them. But you beat my boys to Ruffer, huh, and got the dope for yourself? Maybe we can make a deal at that.”
“I didn’t see Ruffer until after Dixie and Bull left him dead. Did you send them to my hotel after they reported back from Ruffer?”
“Why would I do a thing like that? I got witnesses to prove they’ve been playing poker the last hour at least.”
“The same witnesses who were going to swear they hadn’t left here since six o’clock until you discovered I could place them at the captain’s house?”
“That’s right.” Lasher leaned back comfortably. “I wouldn’t want them to go into court and call you a liar.”
Shayne said roughly, “Get them in here. I want to know what they did with Molly Morgan.”
“They won’t like being pushed around by a private dick,” Lasher warned him. “I don’t care much for it either,” he added dispassionately. “You got guns for sale… maybe we can talk business. But leave Dixie and Bull out of it, huh?”
“I want to talk to those bastards,” Shayne said violently. “If they didn’t pull Molly out of her hotel, I want to know who did. Get them in here, Lasher, or I’ll start breaking down doors in this joint until I find their goddamned poker game.”
He got to his feet and glared down at the gangster who remained relaxed behind his desk.
Standing like that he didn’t see a side door open behind him, and his first intimation that they were no longer alone came when Lasher said evenly, “You boys been listening in since I opened the intercom circuit?”
Shayne turned slowly and saw Dixie and Bull advancing toward him across the deep carpet. Dixie was young and fair-haired and looked almost fragile beside Bull who was at least a head shorter and a good hundred pounds heavier. Bull had cauliflower ears and a permanently disjointed nose, and he had small, hot eyes set close together beneath a low, flat forehead. A leather blackjack swung from his right hand, and the pleased look on his face suggested that he hopefully anticipated using it on the redhead.
But of the two of them, Shayne knew that Dixie was the more dangerous. His eyes were wide and staring and had the hypnotic glaze of a sleep-walker. He was, Shayne realized instantly, loaded to the gills with dope and ready to explode like a firecracker at any moment. He had his right hand bunched inside the pocket of his jacket, and he said in a listless voice, “We been listening to this son-of-a-bitch speak his piece, Boss. We’ll take him, huh? We’ll blast his guts…”
“Hold it,” Lasher said sharply. “I want to know about this dame he keeps harping on. If you two lugs pulled something on your own…”
“Honest to God, Boss,” protested Bull in hurt protest. “We don’t know nothin’ about no dame. You know what?” he went on eagerly. “We told you ’bout seein’ a guy leave the captain’s house when we went in an’ found him dead. A big guy like this redhead. What’s he accusin’ us about?”
They had stopped two feet in front of Shayne. Bull flat-footed and menacing with the blackjack swinging in short arcs by his side, Dixie poised as lithe as a cat on the balls of his feet with his head cocked a little to one side and a seraphic smile on his bland features as though he were listening to the strains of sweet music which none of the others could hear.