Shayne lit one of his own cigarettes, the kind containing tobacco. “How did he get in touch with you?”
“Oh, I wrote him a silly letter. I was feeling moody that day. I didn’t expect anything to come of it, but what did it cost me? I sort of exaggerated how much I missed him. I like Murray, he’s sweet, and he’s not too enterprising sex-wise any more. It’s been practically all oral on my part. I told you I wasn’t going to keep anything back.”
As the curlers came out and the dark hair fell around her face she looked younger and prettier. “I’m supposed to be kind of good at that, as a matter of fact. I can make almost anybody squeal. Be that as it may, I drew him some X-rated pictures to get that old tingle going. I had this nutty idea, that if he ever came back it would change my luck. And that’s the way it happened! But I don’t see why I owe him a hell of a lot of gratitude, considering I have to think of my own self, don’t I?”
“Yeah.” Her mother had said much the same thing.
“Well, I do! He called from New York. I was so thrilled! He told me to rent a place, and then he came down, looking just like all the other tourists. He told me he rented a car, but what he really did, he stole it at the airport. So all the time I’ve been hurrying here and there, I was driving a hot car, and if some nosy trooper had picked me up, wouldn’t that have been marvelous, though?”
“Where does Artie Constable come in?”
She gave a high laugh and took some more beer. “You’ve been talking to dear old mom. He’s this friend of mine from school. Murray needed somebody who looked sort of tough and I suggested Artie and we contacted him, and he said sure. He’s been staying here, and the less said about that, the better. Murray doesn’t mind, he’s so out of it himself.”
“Now about the heroin, Helen.”
“I never said it was heroin. All I know is, some Arabs brought it in for him.”
“What kind of Arabs?”
She went into a handbag on the floor beside her. “I’ve got a clipping. I cut it out when Murray broke jail. I’ve been reading everything, all that stuff about the citizenship, keeping my fingers crossed that he wouldn’t get it and he’d have to come back. Well, I know it’s here somewhere, but take my word for it. It had the name of one of the Arabs, Rashid whatever. Murray sent me to this certain mansion in Boca Raton to ask for somebody with that same identical name, and don’t tell me that was a coincidence. And to bring him down here. A neat guy, but he looked right through me. He could be a fag-I wondered about that. He and Murray had a lot to chew over. Do you mind if we pick up the beat a little, Mr. Shayne? I was about to split when you walked in. I’m going to try and make it in Southern California.”
“Without your two friends?”
“Seriously! Artie’s O.K., but all he likes to do is smoke dope and float. And Murray I said goodbye to this morning. He gave me two hundred for a going-away present, which wasn’t too bad. That was no permanent thing. To begin with, how long would he last? All I wanted was travelling money, and I got that. So.”
She poured down more beer. “I bought a few things for him. You may not believe this one-ping-pong balls and a hypo. I know! Don’t ask for an explanation. And there was a sergeant here from the airbase one night.” She giggled, sounding for an instant like her mother. “He put his hand on my ass in the kitchen, which I appreciated because he knew it was risky, with Artie and Murray in the next room. Am I helping?”
“Some. What happened this morning?”
“He packed his bag. So long, kid, thanks a million. I didn’t ask any questions! Artie was so wound up he had to keep going to the bathroom. Before they left he hopped himself up with some jumpers. Murray told him to take three. He took five. I popped a couple myself, does it show?”
She sneaked a look at her watch.
“How are you travelling?” Shayne said.
“By thumb, natch.”
“What do you think they’re doing now?”
“What I think they’re doing now-I could have wormed it out of Artie, but I decided not to-is picking up a package and taking it somewhere and turning it into cash. And then they’ll go their separate ways. Murray did some phoning last night. Plane reservations? Maybe. He’s got a wonderful Lebanese passport, it looks just exactly like him. He grew a beard, did I tell you? And he has this creepy hairpiece that looks about as real as Astroturf. Well.” She looked at her watch again. “The thing is, I want to be out by the time Artie gets back. He thinks we’re going to stay through the month. What he doesn’t know is, I already got back the deposit. If you want to, you can drop me on the highway. And gee-I certainly want to thank you, Mr. Shayne. It shows there are nice people in the world, after all.”
Shayne picked up her overloaded purse. Before she could object, he spilled it on the floor. “I don’t want to find out later I made a mistake.”
“I don’t know what you think you’re going to find in there. That stuff has been piling up for years.”
She was trying, but she couldn’t conceal her anxiety. Shayne stirred the pile with one finger. The money added up to over $500. There were various pill containers, extra underwear and socks, Band-aids, earplugs, postcards, jacks. There was a library card and homework assignments, three or four keys, including one with a tag: “Nefertiti.” He swept it all up and stuffed it back.
“Can we go now?” she said. “I’m ready if you are.”
“I think I’ll have a beer while I think about it.”
“I just drank the last one. Mr. Shayne, my feet are itching. I want to be on my way! If Artie shows up, it’ll just be one big hassle. I’m not driving anywhere with him in a stolen car.”
Shayne put another cigarette in his mouth, watching her. “One minute won’t make any difference.”
“It may! If you’re going to grab Murray, don’t you think you’d better get out to the airport?”
“All I could get him on now is jumping bail. It’s not enough.”
She was on her feet, moving impatiently. When he still didn’t get up, she said, “All right, it makes me feel like a fink, and maybe it doesn’t mean anything. The St. Albans.”
“What about the St. Albans?”
“Do I have to keep telling you I don’t know? Nobody told me anything, but I’m human too, and whenever there was anything to listen to, I listened. The St. Albans kept cropping up. They had a floor-plan, a diagram. If you hurry, maybe you can catch him at it. But don’t for God’s sake tell him I told you anything.”
Shayne continued to smoke.
“I know how it sounds,” she said, “that I’m making this up because it’s really happening someplace else, but what do I care? He’s not the big thing in my life.”
To her relief, Shayne came to his feet at last. “Is there a phone here?”
“No, but there are booths downtown.”
All she took with her was her purse. She gave one last look at the sordid room.
“Parts of it were fun.”
She told him to drop her on the main road to the expressway north. He offered her a lift as far as Miami after he finished his calls, but she was in a big hurry to get out of the car.
“Not that I don’t like you!” She kissed his cheek quickly. “If you were driving west, we could have ourselves a high old time. I just don’t want you to get religion and decide it’s your duty to turn me in.”
He left her on the corner. She was still there, signalling cars, when he turned into the main shopping street and parked.
He brought in his operator and asked for police headquarters in Miami Beach. It was busy. So were the police numbers in Miami. Those switchboards were frequently overloaded when something important was happening, and Shayne had an unlisted number which would put him through directly to Will Gentry. The operator tried this number. It, too, was busy.
Shayne’s own private radar was picking up blips. He hadn’t liked the way the girl had kept sneaking peeks at her watch. It was now 10:59. Apparently he had injected himself into Gold’s schedule at an inconvenient time.