He picked up the beaded purse she had been carrying, and found it stuffed with paper money.
“That’s what I thought,” he said. “Now I feel better. Come on, I’m not going to hurt you.”
She took her hands down. Except for the spot where he had hit her, her face was very pale.
“Take off the dress,” he said.
“What?”
“That little skirmish woke me up, didn’t you notice? I’m going to ball you.”
“Oh, no, you’re not.”
He made a quick grab at her, and she said hastily, “Yes, you are. Of course. Absolutely. It’s a perfectly logical idea, and I’m sure it’ll be very enjoyable, even for me.”
She was fumbling with her zipper. Her nervousness put him back in good humor.
“Stop jittering. Here, I’ll help you.”
He found the zipper tab and pulled it, and watched her come out of the dress. He left the overhead light on. When they were together, he surprised her by being gentle and careful, and even tricked her into taking part. She was wary at first, but then began moving with mounting excitement. They went over together, with Sarah throwing her head blindly from side to side, muttering hoarsely. It was their best moment.
There were tears and blood — from Shayne’s scratches — on her face. He disengaged slowly. Still gently and tenderly, he unfastened her emerald necklace. When he picked up her left hand, she stretched the fingers so the diamond would slide easily into his palm.
“And the crazy thing is,” she said, “that I almost decided to stay in Miami. Because what ever happens in St. Albans?”
“Who gave you the ring?”
“I gave myself the ring. I bought it on time, and it’s still not paid for.”
“I’m just going to hock it. I’ll buy it back for you after I make that dealer surrender.”
Tears glistened on her cheeks. She didn’t reply. “That’s a promise,” he assured her. “I know you feel naked without it, but you’ll get it back.”
He went to the bathroom to wash. Hearing a sound from the bed, he whirled, but she had merely stacked up the pillows so she could lie back and watch him.
“Play it out,” she said. “If you’re really that sure…”
“I have to be sure,” he told her. “So long as there’s any daylight showing, I’ve got to go for it. Sorry it had to be you, baby, but there’s more riding on this than money.”
The cognac flask had slipped out of his pocket while they were rolling on the floor. He retrieved it, and drank.
“What do you mean, more than money?” she said.
“I don’t know how to say it. But unless you finish what you start, you might as well be a check-out clerk in a supermarket.”
He opened his dispatch case and took out his.38 pistol in a clip-on holster. He snapped it on his belt and buttoned his jacket over it.
“I was going to offer to get dressed and go with you,” Sarah said. “That changes my mind.”
“Get some sleep.”
He hesitated, looking down at her, and then wrapped the phone cord around his hand and yanked it out of the wall. She made a murmur of protest.
“That wasn’t necessary, Mike. I’m too worn out to dial. I’m with you now. I want you to win.”
Shayne went out, locking the door.
He looked through the gambling rooms for Larry Zito without finding him. He got Zito’s room number from the desk, went upstairs, and hammered on the door. Even after hearing who was making the noise, Zito was reluctant to let him in.
“We can talk about it in the morning, Mike. It’s late.”
“Can’t wait till morning,” Shayne declared. “I want to pay you. If you don’t open this goddamn door, I’ll just go back down and throw the dough across the blackjack table. You don’t want that.”
After a long moment the bolt was thrown. Shayne went in with Sarah’s money in his hand.
Zito was wearing only a pair of rumpled shorts. When he saw the bills he relaxed and lowered the pistol he was holding. Shayne’s hand shot out, catching Zito’s wrist and giving it a quick wring. The gun hit the carpet.
“I don’t know why you don’t trust people,” Shayne complained.
“Some trust,” Zito said wryly, rubbing his wrist. “I’m glad you’re ready to settle. The big thing I want is to get you out of my hair.”
“I can’t quite do that yet, Larry,” Shayne said, putting the money away. “Later, I hope.”
He saw a familiar black dress carefully arranged over the back of a chair. Stepping across to the bed, he yanked down the sheet.
“Hi,” Mercedes said sullenly, looking up at him. Her hair was loose again, and the flesh was puffy under her eyes. “You said get lost. That’s what you said.”
“You picked a good bed to get lost in. This guy is loaded.”
Zito waited, the muscles around his mouth jumping. One hand went up to scratch the mat of hair on his chest.
“You’re going to stick me up, is that the deal?” Shayne looked at him in astonishment. “You really think I’d do anything that dumb? I just want you to loan me a few grand.”
Zito fumbled on the top of the bureau for one of his little cigars, to have something to do with his hands. “Shayne, you’re in a class by yourself. I already loaned you a few grand.”
Shayne spoke persuasively. “You want to wind this up. So do I, for Christ’s sake. It’s your money, but it’s my skin. I’m not asking for any favors. I’m going to give you security this time.”
He pulled out Sarah’s jewelry. Mercedes sucked in her breath, covering her mouth quickly when Shayne looked at her.
“She’s with me,” Shayne told her. “Unlike some people. She offered it to me, and she had to hit me with a lamp — literally — before I agreed to take it. Larry’s going to advance me something, and I’m going downstairs to invest it in a game of blackjack. And this time, when I get to ten thousand, I’m going to quit. I’ll pay Larry, he’ll return my security, I’ll give it back to Sarah. Fireworks! American flags! Brass bands! Drum majorettes!”
“You’re drunk,” Zito said critically.
“Now, don’t make me nervous,” Shayne warned him. “Whether or not I’m drunk has nothing to do with it, and as it happens, I’m really pretty sober. Three thousand, Larry.”
“No,” Zito said flatly. Shayne’s fingers closed around the jewels, making a fist, and he went on, “I might, in Miami. Here I don’t have the protection.”
“Then give me the name of somebody. Put on your glasses and look at this stuff. The emeralds alone—”
Zito lit his cigar. Waving away smoke, he explained the reasons why it was impossible for him to do that kind of business with Shayne. The casino’s deal with the island officials included a self-policing guarantee. Jewel thieves knew better than to try to score in this hotel. Consequently, there were no fences, as such, on the island. He didn’t question Shayne’s claim that the girl had given up the articles voluntarily, but did she show him a bill of sale? If by some freakish chance they turned out to be hot, the local police would consider it a breach of the basic agreement, and fur would fly.
Even before he finished, Shayne was nodding.
“Larry, I’m sorry I woke you up. I see what you mean — no point in getting out of one kind of trouble and right away into another.”
“Why not make me a partial payment, with what you’ve got there?”
“These are just tens and twenties.”
He found Mercedes’ bag and cleaned out the cash. She wanted Zito to interfere, but he stood by, smoking and scratching.
“This isn’t stealing,” Shayne explained to her. “I gave it to you earlier. It’s not much, but it’s a start. Don’t be surprised if I come knocking on your door again.”