Impatient to get on with Harsh’s story, Shayne asked, “How did you first learn Miss Morton was planning to publish the story?”
“Carl Garvin told me. Carl manages the local office of her syndicate and she asked him to dig up certain information about me here, not realizing, of course, that he would come to me with it at once.”
“Is Garvin a good friend of yours?”
“He’s engaged to marry Viola, my eldest daughter. I must say Carl has acted splendidly throughout. He first did his best to dissuade her from her plan. When she wouldn’t be dissuaded he came to me with sympathy and understanding. Not many young men would stand by after learning that his future father-in-law has an old murder indictment hanging over his head.”
“When did you realize Miss Morton had no intention of killing the story?”
“Yesterday. When I received her demand for money. I keep forgetting you don’t know that part. She couldn’t have been very proud of it, and that’s why she called on a private detective for protection instead of the police.
“It was a very polite blackmail letter,” Harsh continued bitterly. “Cleverly composed. I doubt whether I could legally prove attempted extortion from the wording of it. She sent me a carbon copy of the story, and explained she was holding the original while she made up her mind whether to publish it or not. She pointed out that such a sensational story would create wide interest and add to her stature as a crime reporter as well as bring a large sum of money. In view of this loss to her she suggested I make the noble gesture of paying her twenty-five thousand dollars. The implications were veiled, but it was a definite threat to publish the story and ruin me if I didn’t come across.”
Shayne swore softly and shifted his position. “I had no idea she was that type of person,” he confessed.
“Take it from me, Shayne, the whole transaction has a practiced and professional ring. With twenty years of experience in digging up criminal records and having unlimited access to any records she wants all over the country, there’s no telling how many others she has blackmailed. It was probably one of her victims who drove her own shears into her throat,” he ended helplessly, “just as I threatened to do last night.”
“Do you mean you actually anticipated the method used by her murderer?” Shayne asked.
“I told her I would enjoy shoving the point of those fancy shears into her blackmailing heart,” he said savagely.
Shayne gave a sharp whistle and said dolefully, “If Miss Lally testifies she heard you use those words, you’ll really be on the spot. Give me your alibi for tonight.”
“I was out in my motor cruiser all day-alone. When I sobered up this morning I had a horrible hang-over and a nagging uneasiness that I’d made a fool of myself by going to Miss Morton last night. I couldn’t face anyone, not even my wife, so I slipped away early and drove down to a little fishing-lodge below Homestead. I stayed on the water all day and drove back just in time to keep a seven-o’clock dinner appointment with Carl at the Seven Seas. He drove home with me afterward and stayed until about nine o’clock.”
“Anybody to swear you were out in the boat or to testify when you drove in from Homestead?”
“Not a soul. I didn’t stop anywhere on the road, and there was no one else at the lodge.”
“So from the police viewpoint you may have driven in half an hour early after brooding all day, gone to the Tidehaven, and polished off Miss Morton before keeping your date at the Seven Seas with your future son-in-law.”
“That’s correct,” Harsh agreed steadily. “If she was killed before seven.” He drew in a long breath. “Was she?”
“We’re not sure,” Shayne told him. “There are certain indications that she was alive at seven-thirty. Other evidence points to six-thirty as the latest we can be sure of.”
“If you can fix the time as seven-thirty, Shayne,” he said impulsively, “and keep my name out of the papers-I’ll double my first offer.”
“I’ll have to talk to Miss Lally,” Shayne muttered. “And I need Carl Garvin’s confirmation of what you told me. Also his impression of Miss Morton. Is Garvin a heavy gambler?” he asked abruptly.
“Carl-a gambler?” Burton Harsh sounded genuinely surprised. “I’ve played some dollar-limit poker with him, but I have an idea that’s about the highest stakes he can afford. Why do you ask that?”
Shayne said, “It doesn’t matter.” Again he moved restlessly, shifted his position. “What I don’t understand is why you bothered to send Morton those foolish letters trying to drive her out of town. She already had the dope for her story, so what did you hope to gain?”
Harsh moved his solid body for the first time, jerking his torso tensely erect. “What are you talking about? What letters?”
“It was kid stuff, Harsh, to cut words out of advertisements and paste them on slips of paper. Not very smart, either. Don’t you know that paste and paper and even scissors marks can be scientifically traced and identified?”
“I haven’t the remotest idea what you mean,” Harsh protested vigorously, and for the first time since their telephone conversation Shayne detected fear and uncertainty in the financier’s voice.
“Sure you don’t know?”
“I give you my word of honor that I have not sent any communication whatsoever, written or pasted, to Sara Morton.” It was a flat statement of fact, but again there was a hint of doubt and of fear behind the words.
“Someone mailed her a threat every day for three consecutive days. The third one came today, setting tonight as the deadline for her to get out of Miami. Without the knowledge of your threat last night, the police are acting on the assumption that the threat was carried out.”
“Describe them to me-in detail,” Harsh insisted. He was greatly agitated, and there was little doubt in Shayne’s mind that this was the first he had heard of the threats.
“I’m handling that end of it for you,” Shayne reminded him. “Or will be as soon as you make a down payment on the ten grand. Say half now and the balance when it’s ended and your name has been kept out of it.”
“But suppose my name comes into it in spite of your efforts, Shayne?”
“You’ll be out that much.”
“It seems to me the entire sum should be payable only in the event you succeed.”
“I don’t do business that way. If you’re not prepared to lay half of it on the line right now, we’ll call the whole thing quits.”
“And you’ll go to the police with this information I’ve given you tonight?”
“Why not? I’ve got my own neck to think about. If I don’t get paid for sticking it out, why should I bother?”
Harsh frowned and puffed on his cigar for a moment, then said, “You understand I don’t carry that sort of money around with me. If you’ll take a check-”
“You may be in jail charged with Sara Morton’s murder before I could get a check certified tomorrow morning,” Shayne told him cheerfully.
“Then why am I paying you at all?” argued Harsh in an irritated tone.
“The next few hours are the important ones. The only way to keep you absolutely in the clear is for me to move fast and turn up the murderer before the cops force me to let them have Miss Lally. For that, you’re going to pay five grand on the line.”
“The banks are closed. I don’t see how you expect me to meet such a demand.”
“Nuts. You’re well enough known around town so there are a dozen night spots that will cash your check for a thousand or more. Get the cash to me at my hotel within an hour if you want to buy my co-operation. Turn it over to John, the night clerk, and have him put it in the safe.”
A concentrated frown between Harsh’s eyes was the only outward evidence of his tormented mind. “See here, Shayne, I trust you to keep quiet, but what about that Miss Lally? How do I know she hasn’t already talked-or will go to the police any minute.”
“You have my word for that,” said Shayne dryly.
“But how can you be sure? You believe you have her safely hidden from the police, but even while we’re sitting here she may be telling them all about me.”