Jay Carroll - Mike Shayne Mystery Magazine, Vol. 1, No. 4, August 1957 (British Edition)

I could feel eyes all around me, boring holes in my back. “Get control of yourself,” I whispered fiercely. “I want to talk to you, and I know I haven’t much time.”

“No — I won’t tell you a thing! Get out of here quickly and don’t come back.”

“Okay — no talk, no bracelet — and the police will have it first thing in the morning. Also, every reporter in town will have a complete description of it.”

The tears in her eyes looked real, and the fingertips that touched my hand were like ice. “ Please! You don’t know what you’re getting into! Get away from here, and forget you ever saw me, or the bracelet!”

I held my ground. “Look, Baby — I drive a hard bargain, where murder’s concerned. I happen to have a personal interest in this murder. So finish your drink — and give!”

She picked up the fragile glass and drained it in one gulp. “I can’t talk here. Do you have a car?”

I nodded. “Then drive around to the back, and I’ll meet you at the stairs. Only for goodness sake — be careful.”

I motioned for the waiter and smiled benignly. “You go on back upstairs. It’s a light blue Mercury convertible. I’ll be there in ten minutes. And you had better be there, or I call my friend Lieutenant Tracy Evans.”

She drifted back toward the stairs, and I saw her pause and say something to gorilla-face. She seemed to have regained her composure. I paid the check, tipped the waiter a dollar and retrieved my hat and coat from the check stand. Then I eased myself out into the wet night.

The wind had shifted to the south, and the rain had turned into a foggy mist. I groped my way to the Mercury, and sat there for a few minutes before starting the motor. No one followed me out.

I gunned the motor gently, slid out of the parking space and drove around the building. At the stairway, I eased the car to a stop, but left the motor idling. A minute later, the right door opened. A long hooded black cloak made her just another dim shadow in the night.

“Where to?”

“I can’t stay long. If Tony misses me, he’ll know something’s up. Drive down the road a little way. There are plenty of trees, and no one will see us.”

I parked under a big live oak just off the road. The rain dripped off the tree on to the canvas top, sounding like hailstones in the sudden quiet. I offered her a cigarette and lighted it for her.

Then I said, “Now give. What went on between you and Ralph Kingston?”

She started crying. Deep, tearing sobs that shook her whole body. That made me uncomfortable, so I took her by the shoulders and shook her.

“Stop it! He’s dead, and that won’t bring him back. I want to know why.”

She stopped crying. “I gave Ralph the bracelet to pawn for me. I needed some money, and I couldn’t ask Tony for it. He’d have wanted to know why, and I couldn’t possibly have told him.” I could feel the hate in her face, even though I couldn’t see it.

“I wish now I’d never married him. I don’t love him, I never did. But I thought it was a pretty soft berth I was walking into.” She pulled the cloak closer around her shoulders. “He’s a beast, and he’s terribly jealous. I fell pretty hard for Ralph, and I thought maybe he was the answer to everything. But then...” her shoulder stiffened next to mine.

“But then what?”

“He couldn’t see it that way.” She drew away from me. “Do you have another cigarette?”

“You knew he was married, didn’t you?”

“I didn’t at first. When I found out, it was too late.”

I handed her the lighted cigarette. “What did you need the money for, Anita?”

“One of the maids saw Ralph and me together. She threatened to tell Tony, unless I paid her off.” Her voice was dull.

“How long had you known Ralph?”

“I met him about five months ago. Tony had a little trouble with the police. Ralph came out several times, and then I began meeting him away from the club. When I knew Tony would be away, sometimes Ralph would come up to the apartment. He’d use the back outside stairs. It was one of those times when the maid saw him.”

She rolled down the window on her side, and her cigarette made a tiny arc of light in the fog. She was crying again, and I sat quietly, letting her get it out of her system. I felt sorry for her, but not nearly as sorry as I did for Ralph.

I thought I could see the whole picture now. She had been playing around with Ralph — Lorio had found out about it, had framed Ralph and shot him in cold blood. He had got rid of his adversary, and, at the same time, he probably figured it would teach Anita a lesson. No doubt, it had.

Ralph’s side wasn’t hard to figure, either. She was a beautiful woman, one to turn any man’s head. Maybe he had even fallen in love with her. It was the same old story. It had been going on since Adam and Eve.

I pulled out fresh cigarettes and lit them. “There wasn’t any attempted robbery, was there, Anita? The whole thing was a frame-up.”

She shook her head, but didn’t answer my question directly.

“Please — I don’t want to talk about it. If Tony knew, he’d kill me.”

“When did he send you out of town?”

I felt her grow tense. “I haven’t been out of town. When did he tell you that?”

I grabbed her arm. “You mean you were there last night?”

“Yes — but why? What difference does that make?”

To me, it made a lot of difference. I flipped on the ignition, and pressed the starter.

“Are we going back to the club now?” she asked.

“No — we’re going to Police Headquarters.”

Her fingers clutched my arm, and her voice was frantic. “No — no! We can’t! Don’t you understand? If I go there with you, it will be all over town by morning. He’ll kill me!”

She was right — she wouldn’t live fifty minutes, once the word got out. If the police got to Lorio first, someone else would do the job for him. There had to be another way. Besides, there was still something missing. I wasn’t sure just what it was, but I knew I had to find the whole answer before I began talking.

Then I remembered the guy Lorio said had got away, and the wicked wound on the side of Lorio’s head. He had to have an accomplice.

“Who was the other man in on the deal, Anita?”

“I don’t know. I really don’t know just what happened.” She tugged at my arm. “Please — let’s go back now. I’ve been away too long, and I’m afraid.”

The parking lot was almost full, and the cars and dripping trees were shadowy wraiths in the fog. I coasted around the building, and stopped where I thought the stairs were.

She pressed my hand in the darkness and quietly opened the door on her side. “You’d better get away from here now,” she said. “Whatever you do, be careful.” Then she was gone.

I tried to watch her to the top of the stairs, but the fog swirled between us. I wasn’t aware of any danger until the door on my side jerked open and I felt something cold and round pressed against my neck.

“Okay, Buster — this is the end of the line for you.”

The only thing I could tell about the voice was that it was rough and masculine. Automatically, I slid out of the car. Then, on impulse, I ducked and turned to face my assailant, swinging wildly. My fist connected with soft, spongy flesh, and I heard him grunt. Then something hard smashed into the right side of my head.

A thousand tiny lights exploded somewhere behind my eyes, and I was spinning through an endless black funnel, towards a pinpoint of light a million miles away. While I was spinning, I could hear her screaming faintly.

I couldn’t have been out for long, because I came to there on the wet ground beside my car, where I had gone out. My head felt about three sizes too big, and every inch of it was throbbing. I touched it gently on the right side, where it hurt the most, and my fingers came away wet and sticky.