“Do you have any authority to talk about money?”
“You know I don’t, Mike. I can make a recommendation, and in view of the facts, I’m fairly sure they’ll accept it.”
“That’s not good enough.”
“Mike, I don’t understand. I was told there was some kind of personal thing between you and Adam-”
“There is. I also want the full tenth. When you talk to Washington, tell them that.”
“I can tell them,” Ward said doubtfully. “I don’t know how much good it’ll do. I take it you don’t think much of my men’s-room idea. What do you suggest instead?”
“I think we ought to stop the tour right here. Put armed guards on the plane. Then work backward from George. The Mary Ocain kidnapping gives us a handle. That’s a bad rap down here-he’ll talk.”
“But I really wonder how much he knows. You’re right-that would be one way to do it. I wouldn’t have said it was your way.”
“Four people have died so far,” Shayne said. “I want Adam as much as you do, but this whole thing has the wrong smell. We squeaked through tonight. But barely, Ward. If George hadn’t been throwing up, we wouldn’t have made it. Somebody’s pulling the strings, and before I go any farther, I want to find out who.”
Ward gave him a straight, measuring look. “You can’t hold the plane unless I’m willing to bring the Consulate in on it. You have no official status. Not only that. You’re wanted for questioning about a Miami Beach murder, and the local people have probably had a notification on that by now. Only one thing will happen-you’ll miss the plane yourself. I intend to go ahead in any case, with you or without you. I’d like my forty-five back.”
Shayne pulled the gun out of his waistband and handed it to him.
“I don’t know what’s bothering you,” Ward said. “Adam’s clever, I grant you. There’s a division of opinion on the subject in the Unit, but I’m one of those who believe he may be one of the cleverest operators around. The man fascinates me, and I know I probably think about him far too much. But how can there be one single intelligence behind everything that’s happened so far, Mike? The attack on you at the Miami stadium, LeFevre’s murder, the smuggling, that abortive business at the casino, the kidnapping-it’s too much. How are you going to get any of it explained by calling a time-out at this stage?”
“It would work if you backed me up,” Shayne insisted stubbornly.
“I’m going for the big prize,” Ward snapped. “I don’t want to settle for George Savage and a few other small fry. It wouldn’t satisfy me. Stay or go. It’s up to you.”
Shayne hesitated, then said slowly, “What the hell. I remember hearing about a stowaway who jammed himself into the tail cone of a DC-8. I don’t know how big it is.”
“Good, Mike,” Ward said briskly. “I didn’t think you were the kind of guy who’d want to play things safe.”
CHAPTER 14
Back in St. Albans, Shayne let Ward dispose of George Savage while he made a phone call.
Christa answered in their room.
“Mike! I’ve been worried half to death! Are you all right?”
“I’ve had better moments.”
“Mary Ocain called. She sounded almost hysterical. Drunk, possibly. She’s had some sort of an adventure, and she wanted to tell you she took care of it all by herself. Finally she got some good out of all her aikido lessons, whatever that means.”
“I know what it means. How about Tim Rourke?”
“He’s right here. And Mike, why didn’t you tell me? He’s a very sweet man.”
“So I’ve been told,” Shayne said drily. “Put him on.”
“Darling, will you be back soon?”
“I don’t know yet.”
A moment later Rourke was on the phone.
“Mike, if you want to know why I’m always so willing to help out, it’s because of the grade of woman you attract. I never seem to meet chicks like this except when I’m traveling with you. But one thing bothers me. What are we going to do about the sleeping arrangements?”
Shayne heard Christa’s low giggle. He grinned.
“I’ve got a couple of errands for you, Tim. You may not get much sleep. I’ve been pounded around a bit and my watch has stopped. What time do you have?”
“Four minutes to two.”
Shayne shook his watch to get it started and adjusted the hands. Ward came out of the police station and approached the booth. Shayne opened the door.
“Wait in the car, OK?”
Ward shrugged and went to the Checker. Shayne returned to Rourke.
“What’s the news from Miami?”
“Petey Painter’s very excited, but you knew that. His mustache keeps jerking. I wouldn’t be surprised if it flies off before morning. He knows you’re somewhere in Latin America, but he still isn’t sure where. He had a couple of boys tailing me, on the theory that I know more than I told him, but I left them watching a floor show while I went out through the kitchen.”
Becoming serious, he began ticking off points Shayne had asked him to check, displaying the precision and economy that made him such a good reporter.
“We were seen leaving the Sans Souci, and they have an exact time. That’s bad, because the M.E. says LeFevre died about two hours earlier. There are jimmy marks on the door but only one set, and you know who put them there-I did. The big new thing is that LeFevre wasn’t unconscious when he was slugged. There was blood in several different places. They think he was sapped a couple of times before he started to fight. They found skin under his fingernails. I know Petey wants to find out if anybody’s scratched you lately.”
“They have. They’ve also been hitting me with two-by-fours.”
“Foolish of them,” Rourke said without much sympathy. “You wanted to know about the hotel safe. There was nothing in it in LeFevre’s name-no dossier or photographs. I don’t mean somebody took them out later. LeFevre didn’t put them in. George Savage. No police record, but a girl at the paper has come up with something. Apparently he was working the Dead Sea Scrolls con in the Middle East last summer. You’ve heard of that-the mark buys some tightly rolled scrolls that an Arab has found in a cave. And, of course, when they’re unrolled, they turn out to be a map of downtown Tel Aviv. Now the captain, Joe Lassiter. Women, horses, liquor. But everybody says Pan Am gave him a wrong deal. Jimmy Moss. This boy is a red-hot. A pilot. He’s flown all over, including the Congo. He ferried planes to the Algerians. And this is interesting. It’s just a whiff, but one of my raffish friends says Jimmy may have had something to do with the big gold theft in LaGuardia Airport in New York last year. For that do you raise my salary?”
“I’ll double it. Here’s what I want now, Tim. I saw George Savage having supper by himself in the Calypso Room. I think it’s still open. He’s been through here a number of times so the girls would know him by name. Find out who served him and what he ate, and if anybody was with him at any time. He’s being sick to his stomach, and it doesn’t seem to be a simple case of too much booze. I’d like to find out if anybody fed him anything. After that, charter a small plane so you can get to Caracas ahead of us. We’re leaving at eight. You’d better be on your way by five. Alert the airport people down there. Don’t say anything about gold, but it’s all right to drop a few hints. Can you do that?”
“Easily,” Rourke said bitterly. “Five o’clock is three hours from now. By the time I talk to waitresses and persuade the charter people that my credit is good, I won’t have any time to make friends with Christa. Good planning, Mike. She wants to talk to you again.”
“Mike?” Shayne heard her say. “Shouldn’t I know what’s going on? When will I see you?”
Shayne hung up gently without answering.
“Take these,” Ward said when he dropped him. “You may need them.”
He slid the forty-five and a tiny pencil flashlight into Shayne’s hand. Shayne stuck the weapon inside his belt and stepped out of the cab.
“Thanks.”
But at this point he trusted nobody, and after Ward had driven off, he took out the gun and checked the clip. There were four rounds in it, as well as one more in the chamber.