Shayne entered Gentry’s private office. Gentry was at an open filing cabinet, stuffing a folder into a drawer. He looked at Shayne over his shoulder. A black cigar butt tilted up from the corner of his mouth, and his expression was sour.
“Anything from the Fowlers?”
“No. What’s got you excited? I got the impression from Flannigan you’ve been looking for me.”
“The mayor told me he and Judge Littrel had hired you. Well, we’ve got a present for you, Mike,” Gentry said flatly. “It’s in the morgue. Another dead kid. And this one was addressed to you.”
VIII
The body had been brought to police headquarters in the back end of a truck owned by a furniture store. Two confused and frightened delivery men were being interrogated by Homicide.
“These guys say they delivered a television set to a residence this morning, then stopped at a cafe out in the Hialeah area,” said Gentry. “They were empty, they claim, but when they came out of the joint, they found a rear door of their truck open and Jack Caulkins’ body inside.
“The boy was carrying a wallet, Mike. He also had a used business envelope stuffed in his shirt front. Printed on it was ‘Deliver to Mike Shayne, detective’. The message was printed in pencil, same block letters as in the ransom demand.”
“How was he killed, Will?”
Gentry’s face darkened. “Preliminary makes it an odd one. The boy is crushed inside. Doc says he probably is just one big scramble, bone and innards. Feet, legs and pelvic area shattered. Doc is figuring he fell a long distance, probably hit ground on his feet.”
“Sounds as if he was pitched or pushed.”
“If either, he was riding the small end of the percentages. The chances of him landing on his feet would be damn thin.”
Shayne stroked the reddish stubble along his jawline. His eyes were narrow and hard in deep thought. “The message. How come I’m singled out? Because my name is in the news this morning?”
“Could be,” Gentry said slowly. “Or it could be the kidnapers want to be caught.”
“That kind of stuff is for the shrinks, Will! If you really think that, get the docs in here! You don’t need me! Anyway, if I’m picked because they heard my name on the radio, television, they also know I’m not a cop.
“Maybe they know I’m on the case, but Will, I’m riding a different horse. I figure we just caught another taunt, somebody throwing all of this in our face and then sitting back and chuckling.
“The guy may be a shrink candidate, but he’s dangerous too — and he’s got at least one partner. There’s somebody in their camp who’s straight. He’s probably the planner, the kidnapings may be his baby. He may have laid it all out, then lost control of one or more of his troops. It’s the contradiction that stinks.”
“Uh-huh,” said Gentry. He fired a cigar butt into a waste basket, yanked open a desk drawer, got out another butt, jammed it into a corner of his mouth. He sat for a moment in silence, then leaned forward, jerked the cigar butt from his lips and stabbed it at Shayne.
“Do you realize, that we have lost two of four kidnaped kids — and it’s four hours yet to payoff time! What the hell, don’t they want the money? That’s what makes me think we’re dealing with screwballs!”
“We don’t know the circumstances, Will,” Shayne said, struggling for logic. “The Littrel boy could have resisted being snatched. The Caulkins kid might have tried some kind of escape. Hell, if it’s…”
Shayne steeled himself against the other thought, then added, “Will, if it’s a wanton, methodical killing of the kids, we might as well sit here with our feet on the desk and accept the bodies as they are brought in! We’re already whipped. They’ve got the kids, and we don’t know where!”
“But maybe we’ve got a smell,” Gentry said savagely, smacking the desk top. He stood.
Shayne lifted shaggy eyebrows. “You’ve got a lead?”
“We’ve got a citizen. A deaf mute, but he’s a start. Sturgis is with him now. Name is Flato. He’s got a room in a building across the street from the cafe where the delivery boys picked up their body.
“He claims he saw the transfer of a body from a car to the truck. He couldn’t call us because he doesn’t have a phone and he’s a mute. By the time he got down to the street and found a friend to relay the message, the scene was clear: car and guy gone, delivery boys headed this way with their cargo.
“I’ve got an APB out on the car and the driver. Not much but it’s a jumping off place. Chev., Plymouth or Pontiac, a sedan, anywhere from ’67 to ’70, blue bottom, white top. The blue is faded, and the top spotted, probably from rust drops.
“It’s a four door model with a cracked windshield, splayed on the passenger side. The driver was a loner, twenty-five to thirty years old with long dirty-blonde hair to shoulders, and a hawk nose, He wore faded denim jacket, open down front, orange and purple underneath, probably a tank shirt, denim pants, also faded, open sandals, floppy hat. Flato didn’t get a good look at the guy’s face.”
“And no license number?”
“Angle was wrong, Flato says. He couldn’t see the plate.”
“The car the Fowlers saw, Will, also had a broken windshield,” Shayne said from deep thought, “and was light-colored on top, dark on the bottom. It could be the same car. Neither kid was killed where he was found; each was delivered.”
The phone on Gentry’s desk jangled. He said, “Yeah?” into the mouthpiece, then listened intently for a long time. When he put the phone together, he stared hard at Shayne.
“That was Doc again. He’s found a couple of interesting things on the Caulkins boy. Rope burns on the palms of his hands, and rope fibers imbedded in his clothing, traces of a musty, fishy odor about him. Doc’s speculating the kid may have been aboard a boat very recently.”
Shayne grunted. “Not a bad place to hide someone,” he said. “At sea, waiting for the time of ransom delivery in the park. Maybe these people are figuring on cutting by sea too.”
“I’ll alert the Coast Guard, send teams of my people down to the marinas and clubs, all of the dock areas.”
Shayne glanced at his watch. “You’ve talked with the mayor, how’s he doing? Is he getting the money? Or did he say?”
Gentry looked mildly surprised. “Yeah, he’s got it lined up,” he said. “It’s being hauled to his office from several sources. I’ve got men all over the place down there. So?”
Shayne pulled his ear lobe. “So I’m going out and have a couple of drinks — and then I’m going to take a walk with the mayor in Flamingo Park!”
“You are like hell!” Gentry snarled.
“Will, cool down and take a second look at this payoff setup,” Shayne said patiently. “They want the mayor to be in the park at four o’clock with the money, but no other instructions are received. Okay, the mayor is to walk, that’s all.
“So it could mean a running ripoff, or it could mean someone will meet him on the sidewalk, bring a gun out of nowhere, kill him and bolt with the dough. Or maybe he’s going to be taken hostage, someone sticks a gun in his ear and marches him away — keeping cops at a distance.
“These characters can ripoff, kill or take two people hostage, Will. Damnit, they kidnaped four kids when one would have accomplished the same result! You figure they’re going to get choosy about numbers now? They won’t object to my presence. And the mayor did hire me.”
Gentry stared for a long time in silence before he said, “Get the hell out of here. Let me think about it.”
Shayne walked out of police headquarters. His steps were long, he planted his feet hard. He knew Gentry already had accepted his plan. The police habit of cooperating in a kidnap case was strong. But for some crazy damn reason he didn’t understand, he found himself suddenly remembering the quivering Tuesday noon bank robber he had captured. The novice.