“Jesus Christ,” Diamond said fervently.
“Get him off me!” Dessau cried.
There were confused sounds. Another flame sprang up in the darkness. Shayne heard a sharply indrawn breath. “It’s Little!” Dessau said. “Knifed.”
“Dead?”
“You aren’t just whistling he’s dead. He sold us out and got a knife in the gut instead of pay. And you know I actually liked the bastard? Crazy as a bedbug.”
There was a long moment of uneasy silence.
“You didn’t organize this, did you, Pierre?” Diamond said in his softest voice. “By any chance?”
“What’s that?” Dessau exclaimed. “What did you say?”
“Just thinking out loud. I don’t know what you told him on the phone, do I? I can’t read lips. Maybe you didn’t say go over to the post office and bump into a car. Maybe you said somebody’d get in the car with him and tell him what to do next.”
“Now why would I do that, for the love of God? You mean sell to the highest bidder, that kind of idea? I’m running risks enough as it is. And speaking of risks, let’s get the hell out of this, do you mind?”
“Wait a minute,” Diamond said sharply. “I’ll be goddamned if I haven’t seen that knife. I think it’s Shayne’s.”
Shayne groaned again, and dislodged a beer can. Lowering himself into a sitting position, he breathed out heavily and heard cautious movements beneath him.
Diamond’s voice said evenly, “I’m holding a gun. It’s cocked. I’m coming up.”
Shayne made a half sound and took his head in his hands. He was now very bloody.
Diamond’s attention was divided, and a broken step gave way beneath him. Recovering, he came on, extending a heavy automatic at arm’s length to be sure it would be seen. Shayne grinned behind his hands and let another low sound pass his lips.
Diamond, approaching, warned him not to move. He summoned Pierre curtly.
“See what he’s carrying.”
Pierre edged past and stooped over Shayne to pat his pockets. Shayne slapped feebly at his hand, then sat back and let the tall man take his gun and flashlight. When the flashlight came on, Diamond put away his lighter.
“Diamond?” Shayne said blurrily, peering up. He looked at the other man. “Who are you?”
Diamond snapped, “Come on, Shayne. Stand up. We’re leaving.”
“Leaving?”
He moved to get up, winced with pain and touched the hair above his temple. It was sticky with blood. He looked at Diamond craftily.
“We’ve had a little mix-up here, but I can explain it. Nothing serious. I’m a private detective.”
“I know that,” Diamond told him. “And I know from personal experience that you’re a hard man to subdue. This time I don’t intend to try. I’ll shoot you out of hand if you give us any trouble. We can talk about it somewhere else.”
Pierre prodded him in the ribs with his toe. “Something the matter with your hearing? Get the hell up.”
Shayne snarled and came to his feet in one swift, fluid motion. As Pierre reached for him clumsily, Shayne went beneath his arm. Catching the taller man by the belt, he spun him around to face his colleague, putting Pierre’s bulk between Shayne and the drawn gun. Diamond pulled back a step.
“I could push him at you,” Shayne said, “and we’d all end up at the bottom in a nice tangle. I don’t like to have guns pointed at me. I don’t like to be kicked. I’ve got a headache and I’m in a lousy mood. Put the goddamn thing away and let’s see what kind of deal we can make.”
After a moment Diamond dropped the automatic into an inside holster. “You’re a tough man,” he observed.
“Usually I’m easy to get along with.” He released Pierre, who loosened his collar and sucked in air. “Would it make you feel better if I told you that I’ve taken a shafting here? I’m open to any reasonable offer. Give me that light for a minute. I want to show you something.”
He took the flashlight out of Pierre’s hand and stabbed it at the floor behind him, where he had found Little.
“What happened to him?” he said in surprise.
“If you’re looking for Dr. Quentin Little,” Diamond said, “you’ll find him downstairs.”
Shayne shot him a suspicious look from under lowered brows, and started past Pierre. He checked himself at once, touching his temple, and continued more slowly, keeping his balance by running his fingertips along the inner wall. The others followed. When Shayne reached the bottom he bent over the dead man and touched his eyelid. He grunted, straightening.
“I always hate to lose a client, even when I do it myself. The son of a bitch was trying to shortchange me.” He looked down at the body, brushing his fingertips. “All right, if we’re leaving, let’s leave before they start talking about us on the police band. But do me a favor first, Diamond. I get dizzy when I lean over. Wipe off the prints.”
They exchanged a look. Diamond took out a handkerchief, spat into it, and carefully smeared the handle of the knife.
There was a sound in one of the rooms. Pierre, grabbing the flashlight, took a quick stride forward, and pushed open the crazily hanging door. The flashlight caught Minnie Fish as she started back.
“Look here, will you?” he said. “An audience.”
She stared past him at Shayne, her eyes widening as she saw the blood on his face. Then she looked down at the dead man on the floor.
“You didn’t—” she began, but Pierre caught her by the arm and spun her around.
“I’m the one who’s got to take care of this,” Shayne told him. “Let’s see the gun.”
Pierre looked at Diamond, who nodded slightly, and gave Shayne his .38.
“I didn’t hear anything!” Minnie Fish cried as Shayne stepped through the doorway. “I’m not interested!”
Shayne struck her viciously across the face with his open hand. She whirled and ran. He overtook her in the bedroom. She stumbled and went down on one knee.
Catching her from behind, he clapped his hand over her mouth and whispered, “When I take my hand away, I want you to yell. Do you understand what I’m saying?”
His tone calmed her down and she stopped struggling. He felt her nod.
“All right. Now.”
He uncovered her mouth and she screamed. “I won’t say anything! It’s white business!”
Reversing the .38, he brought its butt down hard on the mattress. She understood, and stopped screaming.
He gave the mattress another hard blow, put the gun away and returned to the hall. Pierre and Diamond carefully avoided looking at him.
“Let’s go,” Shayne snapped.
Chapter 11
“Which one of you is top man?” Shayne said on the sidewalk. “I’m dealing with just one.”
A glance was exchanged.
Dessau said anxiously, “I think I ought to be in on this, Jerry. I’ve got an investment to protect.”
“I’ll look after your investment,” Diamond said. “Shayne’s calling the shots.”
“That’s just it, I’ve been hearing about him. He’s about as twisty as they come.”
“That’s no news to me; I’ve played poker with him. Thanks for the advice, Pierre. I’ll try to remember not to trust him. Follow us in the Dodge.”
Pierre said stubbornly, “He keeps using the word deal. Deals are at somebody else’s expense, in my experience. I don’t want to end up on the outside.”
Shayne, who was to his right and a step behind him, moved in close and took him by the elbows from the rear. “I’ve known you five minutes and I’m already tired of that voice. All right, Diamond. Whatever you do for discipline, do it and let’s get out of his part of town.”