“It proves exactly what I just told you. Your mistake was in making the first payment. If you’d gone straight to the police…”
“No, Mr. Shayne,” Doctor Ambrose interrupted him with a queer assumption of dignity. “My mistake was made years ago. Unintentional and innocent though it was at the time. Now… I must pay for my folly.”
“Who?” asked Shayne softly.
There was a long silence. Doctor Ambrose took another sip of his cream sherry. “I don’t know, Mr. Shayne. To be frank, I don’t believe I would tell you if I did know. What earthly good would it do? You would probably want to approach him directly. I realize you are a man of action… of violence. But it could only make matters worse.”
“You claim you don’t know who is blackmailing you?” Shayne asked incredulously.
“It is the simple truth. I received a letter six months ago… demanding that I mail a thousand dollars in cash each month to a post office box in Miami Beach. I have done so. But I realized it couldn’t continue. A thousand a month, Mr. Shayne!”
Shayne said, “Twelve grand a year.”
“Precisely. For the rest of my life. Do you know what my annual income is?”
Shayne shrugged his broad shoulders. “I understand that doctors are doing very well these days. I don’t know anything about your practice, but… assuming you’re competent and moderately successful… thirty or forty thousand?”
“I’ve averaged slightly over forty thousand gross during the past few years,” the doctor told him evenly. “But I have heavy expenses. The salary of my receptionist-nurse alone is over six thousand. Office rent… supplies…” He waved both hands vaguely. “At least another six thousand.”
“So that leaves you twenty-eight thousand net,” said Shayne patiently. “I don’t see…”
“On which I pay income tax. About eighty-five hundred dollars. That leaves me twenty. Deduct twelve thousand from that…”
“All right,” agreed Shayne irritably. “I didn’t start this discussion with the idea of advising you to pay blackmail the rest of your life. Exactly the opposite. I say you should have never paid a cent.”
“And lose everything?” shuddered the doctor. “I have a pleasant home, a charming wife. Up to this point, she suspects nothing. To explain the drain on my income, I have told her…” His voice faltered and he dropped his gaze to the rug again. “I confessed to her that I have been gambling. Laura is a wonderful woman. A fine wife and helpmeet. Instead of upbraiding me for my supposed folly, she has been sympathetic and understanding. But… it can’t go on, Mr. Shayne.”
“No,” said Shayne grimly. “It can’t and mustn’t. So, what do you intend to do about it, Doctor? What do you expect me to do?”
“I have made arrangements for a final pay-off, Mr. Shayne. Tonight. Last month, I enclosed with my cash payment a letter pointing out the fact that I was reaching the point where I could no longer keep up the monthly payments. That it is impossible to squeeze blood from a turnip. In desperation, I offered a lump payment of twenty thousand dollars in return for the incriminating documents. By cashing in my insurance policies, taking out a second mortgage on my home, liquidating every available asset, I have gotten that sum of money into my possession.”
He paused and looked up into Shayne’s face steadily for a long moment, then reached inside the left lapel of his coat and withdrew a long, bulky white envelope. “The money is here,” he said expressionlessly. “I have only to exchange it for a similar envelope containing the evidence against me. I want you to help me make that exchange… see that it is consummated fairly.”
Shayne said sharply, “You speak of incriminating documents. What do they consist of?”
“I don’t think that matters. To anyone except myself.”
“It matters in this way,” grated Shayne. “What assurance have you that they will be genuine? How do you know he hasn’t had them copied or photostated? Do you think a blackmailer will be satisfied with twenty grand? Good God, Doctor! Don’t you realize he’ll be back at you in a few months with further demands? It’s what always happens.”
“It won’t in this case. I shan’t reveal the nature of the evidence, but I assure you that photostating or copying would be worthless. Once I am convinced that the documents I receive in exchange for my money are genuine… then I have nothing more to fear. Take my word for that, Mr. Shayne. That is why Mr. Rourke suggested that I come to you tonight.”
“Why?” asked Shayne bluntly. “To help you make the pay-off?”
“To be present while the exchange takes place… and merely by your presence to assure that I receive what I am paying for. Your reputation in Miami is enough for that, Mr. Shayne. You are known as a dangerous man to cross… honest but implacable. I simply ask your protection so long as I have this huge sum of money in my possession. I don’t ask you to take any active part in the transaction,” the doctor went on rapidly. “Knowing that you are there… prepared to take a hand if anything goes wrong… should suffice, I think. Whoever the blackmailer may be, he must certainly know who and what Michael Shayne is, and will not dare try any trickery with you on hand to witness it.”
Shayne shook his red head slowly. “You’ve been listening too much to Tim Rourke. My reputation isn’t that good.”
“But it is, Mr. Shayne. In truth, it is I who went to Mr. Rourke and suggested the arrangement. I knew that you and he were close friends, and I asked him to use his influence to get your help in this matter.”
“And he agreed?” asked Shayne in some surprise.
“His reaction was the same as yours in the beginning… that one should never pay a blackmailer. But when I made him understand that I was determined… that there was no other way… he agreed that it would be a good idea for you to stand by and see that it was done properly.”
Shayne scowled and drummed his fingertips on the table. He lifted his glass and drained it, and then leaned forward and said casually:
“Answer me this one question, Doctor Ambrose. How many abortions have you performed since starting your medical practice?
CHAPTER TWO
The doctor was disconcerted and shocked by the question. He jerked his head up and stared at Shayne, and protested, “What has that to do with this situation? I assure you…”
Shayne cut him off in a flat, even voice: “I asked you a question, Doctor. Answer it.”
“None,” said Dr. Ambrose with dignity and in what sounded like a truthful voice.
“Never once?” Shayne persisted. “Not even in the very early days when the going was probably tough?”
“Never.”
“Were you ever tempted to, Doctor?” Shayne asked the question quietly, as though it were prompted only by mild curiosity.
“Certainly not,” he snapped. “No reputable physician…”
“Just answer my questions,” interrupted the detective. “During all the years of your practice how many times have you been approached by a woman who wanted… needed… an abortion?”
“Do you want me to distinguish between wanted and needed?” asked the doctor grimly.
“Just needed will do. How many, Doctor?”
“A dozen, perhaps. Not having that sort of unsavory reputation, I’m not likely to be approached.”
“But of those dozen… most likely your own patients… you turned them all down?”
“Of course I did. See here, Mr. Shayne. If you’re intimating that the blackmail threat has anything to do.…”
“Why?”
“Why what?” The doctor hesitated, pursing his lips. “Why did you turn them all down?”
“Because… for heaven’s sake, you know that such operations are not only illegal, but immoral and certainly unethical. I could lose my license. A doctor is bound by a very strict code of ethics. Even the hint of a rumor that he is engaging in such a practice can ruin him utterly.”