“That makes sense,” Tim Rourke said. “I’ll call Ellen and tell her to expect three house guests instead of two. Then we’ll stop by Lucy’s place on the way over and let her pick up whatever things she’ll need.”
It was late afternoon by the time the three of them got to the big house on Miami Beach.
They got settled in their rooms. Lucy was to share Ellen Barker’s bedroom for the next few nights, but had a separate room for dressing down the hall. Afterward they came downstairs for an early dinner.
The meal was a light one. Cold soup, filet mignon, new potatos and asparagus were served by a cheerful young colored maid in the dining room. Dessert was a fruit tart with delicious hot coffee served in large cups with sugar and heavy cream.
It was almost dark outside by the time they finished and Ellen Barker told the maid to bring drinks and another pot of coffee to the summerhouse over by the seawall.
“It’s really the only place I feel safe to talk,” she explained as they walked across the grass. “Even if the house isn’t bugged, there are too many places someone could hide and eavesdrop. Out here even after dark there’s enough reflected light” — she waved at the wall of glittering lights from the highrise condominiums across the water — “for anyone to sneak up close enough to overhear anything. I’ll keep a portable radio going to interfere with any possible bug. If we talk in low tones, it should be safe.”
“Who are you afraid would listen?” Shayne asked. “I mean do you suspect one of the servants?”
“Right now I think I suspect everybody,” Ellen Barker said. “I’ll tell you about the servants, and you can meet them later.”
“I’d certainly like to,” the big detective said.
“Of course. And when you do I want you to take a good look at the cook. I keep wondering if she really is what she says she is. She talks with an Italian accent and is heavier than I am, but you never know. She could have been adopted by an Italian family.”
“What makes you think she could be your sister?”
“Only one thing, Mr. Shayne. A small thing perhaps, but lately I’ve gotten mighty jumpy. I saw her come out of the swimming pool early one morning. The servants are allowed to use it when there are no guests. On her right hip, high up, she has a tattoo, a star in blue. My sister had such a mark. She was marked with one star when we were small and I was marked with two. The same man did it. The stars are alike.”
“Oh,” Tim Rourke said. “I’d never have guessed.”
“I have no intention of showing you, Tim.” Ellen grinned. “You’re going to have to take my word. The stars are alike. Of course, it might not mean a thing.”
“Such marks are usually pretty much alike,” Shayne agreed, “but I’ll check into the woman’s background for you. Anyone else?”
“One of the women at Mr. Tony’s, where I have my hair done. She looks like me. The way she stands and laughs. I got a real start the first time I saw her. Sometimes I catch her looking at me kind of queerly too. Oh, I don’t seem sure of anything any more.”
“What other servants are in the house regularly?”
“Besides Dora — that’s the cook I mentioned — there are two maids. They’re both young girls. Then there’s Roberts, who used to be my husband’s personal man. Now he’s sort of combination major-domo and chauffeur. You’d have seen him serve at dinner except this is his night out. Lastly there’s Angelo, who keeps up the grounds, washes the cars, cleans the pool, that sort of thing. I hear him talking Italian to Dora sometimes.”
“I’ll look into them all for you.”
“Have you thought of calling the police?” Lucy Hamilton asked.
“I’ve thought of many things,” Ellen Barker said. “Of course, that was one of them. Only what could I say that they’d believe? The whole thing sounds fantastic, even to me.”
“Don’t try any fantastic yams on Petey Painter,” Tim Rourke said. “He only half believes the date when he’s looking at a calendar.”
“Oh?”
“He’s talking about Chief Painter of the Miami Beach police,” Lucy Hamilton said. “He’s an old friend of ours, and I think Tim’s right. The chief wouldn’t be much help to you right now. He has a pretty literal turn of mind.”
“On the other hand Chief Will Gentry over in Miami is an officer of a different stripe,” Shayne said. “We’ve been good friends for years. I can have him check out possible police records and that sort of thing for your servants and anyone else you might suspect. It can be a big help. I’ll call him in the morning from an outside phone.”
It was full night by now but the reflected City lights made it almost like day there on the lawn.
Ellen Barker took a cigarette from a silver case and lit it.
“That would be a real comfort,” she said. “I would like to know more about them.”
There was a heavy thud as a small object flew through the air and landed on the lawn beside the little Pergola.
Mike Shayne was on his feet almost before the thing struck the ground. Moving with a speed that astonished even Tim Rourke and Lucy Hamilton, he scooped up the object in one big hand and tossed it the few feet into the waters of Indian Creek.
There was the crash and thud of an explosion under the water. A small geyser flew up and drops splashed the summer house where they sat.
V
The other three sat paralyzed in their chairs for a long moment.
“My God!” said Ellen Barker at last. “My God, what was that?”
“A bomb, Ellen,” Tim Rourke said.
“Not quite a bomb, but close enough,” Mike Shayne said. “That was a hand grenade of the type the army uses. You can still buy them on the black market. Somebody threw it at us from back near the house. Luckily I had time to get it into the water before it let go. I think we’d all get back to the house and under cover as quickly as we can now.”
“So do I,” Lucy Hamilton said. “If there was ever any doubt about somebody wanting you dead, there isn’t any longer.”
The four of them got to their feet and walked quickly back to the big house. Mike Shayne watched the shadows and the shrubbery for any signs of movement, but there were none. The big man didn’t actually expect another attack, but he felt it better to be safe.
Once inside they went to the downstairs study which Ellen Barker used as an office and where she kept her desk and household and investment files. The windows were fitted with metal storm shutters which could be lowered from inside as a hurricane protection. With these down, the door shut and the air conditioning running they could feel both private and comfortable.
“Should we leave the house?” Ellen asked.
“I don’t believe that will be necessary,” Mike Shayne said. “There isn’t likely to be another attack on you very soon. However I am going out for a short while. I want a list of all the servants here and the other people you mentioned, Ellen. I’m going over to see Will Gentry at Miami Police Headquarters. I want him to run a check on them. I’ll be gone only a couple of hours at the most and I think you three will be perfectly safe if you stick together. Keep each other in sight.”
“I don’t feel as sure as you do,” Ellen Barker said. “That was a terribly close thing out there.”
Shayne shook his head.
“You may find this a little hard to understand, Ellen,” he said. “I can’t say I’d blame you for it either. But I don’t think the danger was actually that real. I think whoever threw that grenade knew I’d have time to get it into the water, and counted on my doing exactly that. We were meant to be frightened, probably scared into making some foolish move or other. I don’t think it was actually an attempt at murder though. Not this time.”