“We’ll need another man,” Shayne said. “And you might stop at a drugstore and pick up some benzedrine.”
“Oh, it’s going to be one of those nights, is it?” Wing said. “It’s going to take more than benzedrine to keep me awake. I’m so tired I couldn’t even tell you my own name.”
After Shayne hung up he said, “Nothing can happen till after dark. We have time to eat. And we’re going to need lots and lots of coffee.”
“Wait in the dining room,” the switchboard girl said. “I’ll see that they take care of you.”
Wing arrived as Shayne was pouring a second cup of coffee.
“Just black for me, please,” Wing said. “Hello, Mrs. Heminway. Tell me what’s going on, Mike, and it better be interesting.”
“Anytime I start boring you, let me know,” Shayne told him. “Mrs. Heminway’s Uncle John has been calling up every night around six-thirty to find out if Chadwick has been doing any talking, only he’s not really Uncle John. And one of his calls was long distance from Baltimore.”
“Well, well,” Wing said, ignoring his coffee. “You’re not boring me so far.”
“When he called tonight, I had the girl tell him his prayers had been answered. Chadwick had said a couple of words. Just a couple, and then the doctor gave him a sedative. In the morning we’re all pretty sure he’ll be his old self again.”
“That’s taking quite a lot on yourself, Mike,” Wing grumbled. “I wish you’d cleared it with me first.”
“I found out about it at six-twenty-five. I didn’t have time. Of course if you don’t approve of the idea we can always put a sign on his door that it was just a piece of good clean fun.”
“Now Mike. I just wish I’d been told about it. What about the officials here?”
“We have to persuade them. Rather, you have to persuade them. There has to be a certain amount of shifting around of patients, and we’ll need your authority for that. Chadwick ought to be moved to another hospital for the night, and we’ll need his room and the room on each side.”
“What makes you think the guy knows Chadwick’s room number?”
“He’s gone to a lot of trouble. He wouldn’t overlook a thing like that.”
Wing left his coffee half-finished and went to find the director. When he came back he was more enthusiastic.
“How’s the coffee, still hot? I hate to admit it, Mike, but the reason I didn’t jump at this right away was because it wasn’t my idea. I don’t see any reason why it shouldn’t work. That voice on the phone almost has to belong to the same guy who had Fred Milburn stabbed and sent the boys to shoot Mrs. Heminway. Chadwick must know something he was about to spill to Painter. It all comes back to Painter.” He looked soberly at the fresh coffee he had just poured. “And I’ve just about come to the conclusion that we aren’t going to find Painter in one piece.”
“No!” Rose cried.
Wing went on, still looking down into his coffee. “If only the jerk had told somebody what he was doing! It’s bad when a cop as important as Painter gets killed. It’s like losing a battle. The city won’t clamp down for months.”
“He also happens to be a person,” Rose said quietly.
“Well, yes. Technically I suppose you’re right, but that’s never the first thing that comes to mind when you think about Peter Painter.”
“Did you fix things with the doctor?” Shayne said.
“Yeah. He’s sending Chadwick to Jackson Memorial. I’m moving into Chadwick’s room. You can use the room on one side, Mike. I brought Norton with me, and he can use the other.”
“This was my idea,” Shayne said. “I’ll be in Chadwick’s room.”
“Out of the question, Mike.”
Shayne smiled. “You’re in charge. There was something I wanted to tell you — what was it? Oh, yes. Four boys from the St. Albans were seen chasing Petey up Collins last night around nine in a Drive-Urself Chevy. But you’ll be busy here. I’ll work on that angle.”
Wing ran his fingers distractedly through his hair. “I begin to get an idea why Painter felt the way he did about you, Mike. I wish I could end up ahead of you once. Just once, that’s all I ask. Okay, you win. Let’s have it.”
An ambulance arrived for Rose’s father. She had persuaded Lieutenant Wing to let her stay, and she had been assigned to an unoccupied room on the top floor, under the eaves. Shayne drove to the nearest bar for a bottle of cognac, and then put his Buick in the garage where it wouldn’t be seen; beside Wing’s police car. Wing, meanwhile, had been giving orders by phone. There would be nearly as many police covering the Truckers’ convention as there were formal delegates. Names and descriptions of the four men Kincaid had seen had been circulated — one name and one nickname, and not much in the way of descriptions — and Shayne didn’t think there was much hope that they would turn up any sooner than Painter himself.
Gradually the Sunset Nursing Home settled down for the night. The last visitor left. The doctor made his evening rounds, and lights began to blink out.
Rose told Shayne goodnight at the bottom of the stairs to the third floor.
“I know it’s a lot to ask you, but please be careful, Mike. I know it’s your business, I know you wouldn’t be in it if you didn’t enjoy it, but I couldn’t forgive myself if anything happened to you.”
“Get some sleep, Rose.”
“Sleep!”
She started up the stairs, then turned suddenly and came in against him hard. Her arms went around him.
“Mike,” she whispered. “I don’t want to ask you anything, but — the reason I wanted to stay here was so if you — wanted to — I get so lonely, so scared, in bed by myself. Oh, darling.”
She raised her mouth to his and pressed her body against him.
“Mike, can’t you, please? For a little while. He wouldn’t come yet, not till much later.”
“No, Rose,” Shayne said. “Everything has to be set. There can’t be any moving around.”
She looked at him seriously and whispered, “Then tomorrow?” Coloring slightly in the dim light, she turned and ran upstairs.
Shayne went thoughtfully down the long corridor, making a mental note of something else he didn’t expect to tell Lucy Hamilton. As he came abreast of the room next to Chadwick’s, the door opened and Wing looked out. He was in his shirt sleeves, his shoulder holster showing.
“You took your time, Mike,” he said. “I ate enough Bennies to stay awake for three weeks, and let’s just hope they work. I’m going” to sit in a straight chair next to the door, so I can’t fall asleep without falling down. That’s a noisy latch on your door. Let’s wait till the guy opens the door before we grab him.”
“Fine, Joe. I’m going to rig up something that will make a racket when the door opens. And don’t use that gun except to make him stand still. We want to talk to this man.”
“I’m no rookie, for God’s sake.”
In the room on the other side, Norton was prowling around in his stocking feet. Shayne looked in on him, then went into the room he was going to use. He plumped up the covers of the narrow hospital bed to make it seem that someone was sleeping there, and balanced a pair of scissors on the doorknob in such a way that it would be knocked off when the knob was turned. The kitchen had sent up a large pot of coffee and an electric burner. Shayne poured a cup of coffee, added cognac and sipped it slowly. Then he turned out the lamp.
The room was on the second floor, facing south. Not much light came through the single window except when a car, coming along West Avenue, made the turn onto Biscayne Street. There would be a moon, but it was not yet up. Shayne waited until his eyes adjusted to the darkness. Then he began moving about the room, getting used to the position of the furniture. There wasn’t much furniture to worry about — a bureau, a standing lamp and two chairs.