Brett Halliday - Shoot the Works

Shayne said, “I honestly don’t know, Tim. For God’s sake, keep it out of the paper if you do get a line on such a visa.”

“Who’s James Richards?”

“I don’t know that either. I don’t even know whether there is such a guy.” Shayne pushed away his empty plate and took a swallow of coffee, then lit a cigarette. He said slowly, “Things may start coming to a head this afternoon, and when they do there’s going to be one hell of a big black headline for you.”

“You are holding out something,” charged Rourke. “I know the look on your face and the sound of your voice, Mike. Give.”

Shayne shook his red head doggedly. “Not yet. There’s a headline in the making, but I’ve got to earn a fee first. You know you’ll get it before anyone else. Check on the visas, huh?”

He got up and Tim said, “Will do. And I’ll be at the office waiting.”

Shayne left money on the table and went out hurriedly. It was a few minutes after two o’clock when he got off on the fourth floor of the Weymore again. The pert redhead at the desk told him briskly, “I’m sorry but Mr. Martin hasn’t returned from lunch yet.”

“Tompkins in?”

“Y-yes. But… I’m not sure he’s eager to see you, Mr. Shayne. In fact…”

Shayne said, “He’ll see me. Even if it’s only to fire me off the case. Where’s his office?”

“It’s… really, Mr. Shayne. He gave me definite instructions that he wasn’t in to you.”

Shayne started toward the door he had entered previously, “Then I’ll have to start knocking on doors.” He had his hand on the knob when she said in a low voice, “Straight down to the end, but I didn’t tell you.”

Shayne said cheerfully, “Of course you didn’t.” He went through the doorway and down the hall to the end where closed doors on the left and right were lettered, “Mr. Wallace” and “Mr. Tompkins.”

He opened Tompkins’ door and went in. It was a large corner room with heavy wall-to-wall carpeting and a huge desk in the center of it. Tompkins was seated in a swivel chair behind the desk, leaning forward and speaking angrily into an intercom. “Damn it, Alice, I told you…”

He broke off at Shayne’s appearance and three deep vertical creases formed in the center of his forehead. He said, “I thought I made it clear this morning, Shayne, that I disapproved of your retention by this firm. If Martin wants to waste time with you, that’s his personal affair.”

Shayne heeled the door shut and his face became grim. “To hell with what you want or don’t want, Tompkins. I’m working for Mrs. Wallace and haven’t accepted a retainer from you yet. You’ll answer questions from me or from the police.”

“My God, man! That’s all I’ve been doing all morning. Chief Gentry was here for an hour and I told him everything I knew.”

Shayne pulled a heavy chair close to the desk and sat down without an invitation. “Including the news about the missing securities?”

“No,” said Tompkins shortly, “though I was sorely tempted to, and am not at all convinced that it wasn’t a mistake not to. Indeed, I had the strong impression that he is beginning to suspect the truth. He wormed the information out of Martin that we had called you in, and he cross-questioned us severely as to our reason for doing so.”

Shayne said lightly, “That’s because he can’t get it through his thick head that people are often willing to pay me a fee to do the same work Will is supposed to do. I hope you told him that.”

“We did, in effect,” said Tompkins sulkily, “but he refused to accept that explanation. Damn it, man!” the broker exploded violently, “Do you realize the sort of volcano we’re sitting on? Every minute that passes, that million dollars may be farther from here… farther from possible recovery. I think we’re fools to entrust the job to you without asking the police for help. Why, Chief Gentry told us you work entirely alone… that you don’t have a single, accredited investigator on your staff. I’d assumed, naturally, that you had certain resources for this type of investigation. What sort of job can one man do in a case like this?”

Shayne leaned back comfortably and said, “You and Gentry must have given me a good going over. During the course of it, how much did you spill to him about your reason for calling me in?”

“Nothing definite. I told you that. But he did force out of us the admission that we had supplied you with certain information that we felt it best to withhold from him. And he stalked out like an angry bear, after warning us that we were liable as accessories after the fact if that information was relevant to murder. And it is relevant, damn it!” He struck the desk in front of him resoundingly with his fist. “I don’t like it at all.”

Shayne said, “You did want me to make a search of the Wallace apartment.”

“That was when I mistakenly believed you carried enough weight with the police to get permission when we couldn’t. But I heard him telephone his guard at the apartment myself and deliver positive instructions that you were not to be given entry under any circumstances.”

Shayne said, “So he called from here? After you had tipped him off, I suppose, what I planned to do.”

“We did tell him you had assured us you would encounter no difficulty in making such a search.”

Shayne shrugged and said bleakly, “To hell with all this. Who is James Richards?”

“I don’t know. Should I?”

“Take your time before answering that,” Shayne urged him. “Think the name over for a bit. Does it strike any chord at all?”

“I don’t think so. Richards?” Tompkins hesitated and then shook his head firmly. “I know several men named Richards. None intimately, and none with James for a given name.”

“Are you prepared to tell me where and how you spent last night?”

“Certainly not,” snapped Tompkins. “I told Gentry as I told you previously, that if the time comes when I must produce an alibi I’m prepared to do so. Until such time, I consider my private affairs strictly my own.”

Shayne said, “You’re making it tough on yourself. Let’s go back to yesterday afternoon. Presumably you weren’t dishonorably bedded down with a female during that period. Were all you three partners here in the office all the afternoon?”

Tompkins’ hatchet face had flushed an angry red at Shayne’s reference to a woman. He said stiffly, “I don’t see what yesterday afternoon has to do with it. We know the money was in the safe when we left the office at five o’clock.”

“I’m still interested in how the three of you spent the afternoon.”

“I’m not sure about the others. I had a long business luncheon and returned to the office in the middle of the afternoon. After that I had conferences with two clients, cleaned up some dictating and called it a day. Is that satisfactory, Mr. Shayne?”

Shayne said coldly, “It will be if you will give me the name of the person you had lunch with.”

Tompkins drew in a deep breath and held it for a long time. He expelled it and said, “My secretary can provide you with that information… thus attesting to my veracity.”

Shayne nodded and said, “That always helps. How about the others?”

“Hadn’t you better ask them, Mr. Shayne?”

“It’ll be difficult to ask Wallace.”

“Yes. His secretary will be more helpful than I. But I believe yesterday was one of Jim’s golfing afternoons.”

Shayne raised ragged red eyebrows. “Golf? On a business day?”

“Really, Mr. Shayne. I can assure you that more business transactions are consummated every afternoon on golf courses than inside an office like this.”

Shayne said, “It’s nice work if you can get it. Do you know about Martin?”