“Pretty neat,” Tim Rourke said. “I hadn’t thought of that.”
Shayne said, “And something else too. When he gets the two hundred grand Ellen Barker is as good as dead. For one thing she could identify him. I’m sure of that. For another, if he has a fake sister up his sleeve to inherit from Ellen, such a killing puts Ellen out of the way and the sister can’t be blamed. Death by kipnaper isn’t quite an accident, but the police would have a rough time proving a connection with the heir.”
“You’re still going to give him the money, Michael?” Lucy Hamilton asked.
“I’ve got to do that much, Angel,” Shayne said. “I can’t help that. But I think I can nail the killer afterwards in time to save Ellen.”
“How?”
“Leave that to me. You two can help in another way, though. I’m going to need you both — here at the house.”
Lucy Hamilton said, “That ransom note proves there’s an inside man involved. Who outside the house would know where Ellen keeps her luggage or about the lawyer’s power of attorney?”
“Inside man?” Shayne said. “I think inside woman is it. You two latch onto that maid, Millie, who had a wad of bills in her bag when she came in late last night. When I leave, you go in the house and Tim, you phone that young lawyer Patterson I’m on the way over with a kidnap note.
“Then you grab Millie. Don’t let her out of your sight. Later on you take one of the cars from the garage here and the three of you drive up to Haul-over Park. Sit in the car in a parking lot where you can see the shore end of the fishing pier.”
“She may not want to go,” Lucy Hamilton said.
“She’ll go,” Tim Rourke said grimly. “I’ll bribe her or threaten her with involvement in Adele’s murder or tie her up and load her in the car. She’ll be there, and if she shows any sign of recognizing the pick-up man, she’ll talk. That’s the idea, isn’t it?”
“That’s exactly the idea,” Shayne said. “Now, Angel, you run up and get me that bag out of the closet. I’ve a lot to do before one o’clock.”
Nicholas Patterson was waiting for Mike Shayne in the law offices in Miami. He read the ransom note with a grim face.
“You haven’t any doubt that this is genuine?”
“No doubt at all,” Shayne assured him. “Unless I deliver that money the way it says, Ellen Barker will be dead this afternoon.”
“In that case,” Patterson said, “We’d best set about getting the money together.”
“You’re sure you can get that amount together?”
“Absolutely sure,” Patterson said. “With power of attorney — this office holds it and I have the authority to use it — I can easily raise that much. Actually in this instance it isn’t even necessary to get an advance from the bank or to mortgage any of the Barker assets. Old Rod Barker always believed in having a substantial liquid asset pool. He kept a quarter million in cash in a safe deposit box as long as he lived, and his widow hasn’t changed that arrangement. All we have to do is go over to the bank vault and load up that blue suitcase you brought.”
“Sounds easy enough,” Shayne said. “Then I’ll take it on up to Haulover Park.”
“No,” Patterson said, “That isn’t exactly the way it’ll be done.”
“That’s what the ransom note says,” Shayne said.
“I know. You take it to the pier,” Patterson said. “Only I’m going to go with you. If you think I intend to let you or anyone else walk off with two hundred thousand dollars belonging to a client of this firm, you’re out of your head. Where that money goes, I go.”
“Suppose that scares off the kidnaper and he kills Mrs. Barker? The note says—”
“The note says not to be followed or bring police,” the lawyer said, pointing to the paper itself. “I’m not the police, and I won’t be following you. I’ll walk right out on the pier with you away from the bag.”
“But—”
“That’s the way it’s going to have to be, or we don’t supply the money.” Patterson was emphatic. “How do I know you didn’t write that ransom note yourself for that matter?”
He saw the expression on big Mike Shayne’s face and continued hastily. “Oh, not that I think you did. But you know perfectly well my superiors in this firm, including the senior partner who would handle this if he wasn’t out of town, would insist on my going along. I have to insist.”
Shayne thought it over for a moment, tugging at his ear lobe, before answering. “I don’t like it. This sort of thing is better left to professionals. Still, I really don’t have any choice if you insist.”
“I do insist,” Patterson said, “and you don’t have any choice. So let’s get going. If we’re to get the money all the way up to the pier, there’s no time to lose.”
At exactly one o’clock, as the note had directed, Mike Shayne placed the blue suitcase full of ransom money on the first bench out from shore on the Haulover Park fishing pier just north of Miami Beach. He and Nicholas Patterson walked on out the length of the pier towards the end where a gaggle of small boys and old men were fishing for mackerel.
Shayne hoped that Tim Rourke and Lucy Hamilton were watching and had the maid, Millie, with them as he had directed. He wasn’t familiar with the Barker cars and couldn’t spot them from a distance. Moreover, he didn’t dare take an obvious look around. Chances were good that the killer was watching.
The big man hoped the killer didn’t spot Lucy and Rourke. He might recognize them. Tim Rourke would have a gun on him of course, but that wouldn’t help if the killer quietly faded away without going near the bag of ransom money. In that case Ellen Barker might well be doomed.
However Shayne was already committed to the course of action he had taken. He and Patterson walked on at a steady pace to the far end of the fishing pier.
Fifteen minutes later they were still there. Looking over his shoulder, Shayne could see that the ransom suitcase was also still sitting where he had left it on the bench.
“Something is wrong here,” Nicholas Patterson said suddenly. “The kidnaper should have picked up that bag by now. The note was perfectly clear about the time and the place to leave it. Why should he delay?”
“I don’t know,” Mike Shayne said. “All we can do is wait a while longer though.”
The big detective was beginning to be worried himself. Things weren’t going as he had expected, and hadn’t been ever since the lawyer had announced he was coming along on this ransom drop.
That wasn’t what he’d expected.
“If the kidnaper doesn’t show pretty soon,” Patterson said, “we’re going to have to assume he isn’t coming at all.”
“That will be bad,” Shayne agreed.
“We’ll have no choice but to pick up that bag and take it back to town,” the lawyer said. “We can’t leave it around until some curious tourist decides to appropriate it.”
“Let’s wait another fifteen minutes,” Mike Shayne said. He saw the ruin of his whole plan to solve this case, and he needed time to think.
When he first read the ransom note Mike Shayne had been pretty sure that Patterson himself was deeply involved in this case. If not the actual killer and kidnapper, Shayne felt that the lawyer must certainly be an accomplice. Possibly he was the master mind behind the whole plot.
Whoever the killer was, he had to have the opportunity to know many things no stranger could have access to. The lawyer fitted into that picture. He would know all about Ellen Barker’s missing sister and the search made for her. He had hired the private detectives who had made that search and might have held back from Ellen and Rod Barker some facts that had been turned up. He would know that Ellen suspected Adele Miller of being her sister, and might have had secret proofs to supply Adele.