Brett Halliday - At the Point of a. 38

“Can you be a little more gentle?”

“I don’t know what I’m supposed to do without any water.”

“Dip it in the ocean,” Shayne suggested.

Helen considered this a not bad idea. Getting out, she crossed the strip of hard sand to the water’s edge. Shayne offered the old man his flask. Gold looked at it suspiciously, but finally took it. He touched the refrigerator with his toe.

“Any ice in this thing?”

“That hasn’t worked for weeks. Drink it straight. It’s better for you.”

“Mike Shayne,” Gold said after drinking. “One of the reasons I blew this country was to get away from you. And here you are when I get back. You’d think Dade County would be big enough so we wouldn’t keep bumping, but no.”

He handed the flask over the seat. “Well, I came close.”

Helen returned with the wet Kleenex and a piece of cloth she had torn off the tail of her denim shirt. “What have you been talking about while I was gone?”

“Nothing important,” Gold said wearily. “We don’t have secrets. We’re on opposite sides.”

“Honey, maybe you didn’t catch what Mike said back there. He’s going to start talking business in a minute.”

“It’s an old technique. That’s to get our hopes up. This car is famous-it’s heavily wired. He’s taping everything we say.”

“So? That’s for insurance. Honest,” she insisted, “he’s as big a crook as anybody. I’ve listened to my old man. Let me see your face.”

Gold offered it to her, and she cleaned him off. Apparently most of the blood had come from Artie.

“When that gun went off,” Gold said. “A double-barrelled shotgun from a range of two feet. Quite a surprise.”

“Will you hold still?”

She pulled the thread of a band-aid and slapped it on.

Gold said, “If we’re going to be talking about money, Shayne, I’d like to get out of earshot of that tape recorder. But go ahead. How much are you thinking about cutting yourself in for?”

“Half,” Shayne said. “One dollar to you, one dollar to me.” He drank from the flask before putting it away. “I don’t know what your father was talking about, Helen. I try to stay straight on everything but narcotics. That whole thing’s such a mess there’s no honest way. I think half would be fair. If I turn you in, Murray, and I don’t turn in the whole package, I’ll have rumors to cope with, and for a private detective rumors can be bad. And if I tried to rip off the whole amount, I’d have you on my back.”

“Which isn’t such a big thing as it used to be,” Gold said, “but still.”

“I’d be worrying, and I couldn’t enjoy the money. I don’t know how much there is there, but fifty percent ought to keep you going. To be realistic, how many years do you have left?”

“Eight hundred thousand bucks,” the girl said dreamily.

“Divide it in half and it’s still good bread. I’ll drop you in Key Largo and hope I never set eyes on either of you again.”

“I didn’t tell him anything,” Helen declared when Gold looked at her. “He saw the key to the boat.”

“People have been talking about Uruguay,” Shayne said.

Gold exclaimed, “That’s the thing about you, Shayne. ESP or something.”

“I don’t suppose you’ll want to take Helen, after she tried to get you killed.”

“I-!” Helen cried. “I tried to kill Murray? He’s my passport.”

“Sergeant Marian Tibbett,” Shayne said. “Same money, same boat. But much more of a fun companion for a young girl.”

“Murray, he’s just saying that to make trouble.”

Gold put his hand on her leg. “As far as I’m concerned you can come. I’ve lived with this kind of thing for a long time.”

Shayne laughed. “Murray, you’re pathetic.”

“Then let’s move,” she cried. “Open the bag and start counting.”

“Oh, there’s more,” Gold said. “This is a law and order man, basically. He wants an arrest. So we’re going to chat for a few minutes. But the kid’s right, Shayne. We don’t want to hang around all day. Who can I give you? I don’t suppose Helen’s big enough.”

“I know you’re not serious,” she said nervously.

“For my own information,” Shayne said, “who was your buyer?”

“That’s the one thing I’ll reserve. I don’t even like to mention the word.”

“Heroin.”

“That’s right-get it on tape. But that’s stale stuff. You want to get in on the big news today, and that’s not heroin and it’s not Murray Gold. I’m passe.” He linked fingers with the girl. “In more ways than one.”

“Daddy, you’re not,” she protested. “You’re just a little slow sometimes.”

“Turn on the radio, Shayne.”

Shayne flicked on the dashboard radio. It was still tuned to the FM station that carried Tim Rourke’s show. It played jazz most of the day, and that was what was being broadcast now, an old Bessie Smith single.

Gold said, sitting forward, “Is that a Miami station?”

Shayne punched a preset button and the indicator jumped. An unexcited voice was telling them what to expect in the way of weather: continued warm, a three out of ten possibility of showers.

Then: “Repeating the day’s top story. A woman has been found slain in a luxury suite at the Hotel St. Albans. Identified as Mrs. Lillian LaCroix, thirty-one, of this city. She was shot three times at close range with a heavy-caliber weapon. Robbery has been ruled out as a motive, police say. The expensively dressed Miami Beach woman was wearing a valuable watch and other jewelry, and carrying several hundred dollars in cash. The suite is registered in the name of Louis Solomon of New York, who is being sought for questioning. Further details as they come in.”

And he went into a commercial.

“Lou Solomon,” Gold said in a low voice. “What the hell.”

When he didn’t go on, Shayne reached for the dial.

“Leave it on, leave it on,” Gold said.

That commercial was followed by another.

“And all we’re doing is sitting here,” Helen complained.

Shayne turned down the volume. “Who’s Lou Solomon?”

“One of the big Jewish fund-raisers. Rich? It goes without saying.” He turned Helen’s wrist so he could see what her watch was telling them. “But what’s going on up there, will you kindly tell me?”

“What’s supposed to be going on?”

Helen moved restlessly. Gold shook her wrist without letting go.

“I’ll fill you in, Shayne, and when the news breaks we’ll go our separate ways. Give me a slight idea how much you know.”

“Helen told me quite a bit.”

“To get him to go, Murray!” she said. “He planted himself down as though he planned to stay all day. You were due any minute.”

“You used to be a hot pro-Israel man yourself,” Shayne said. “I seem to remember some arguments about whether or not they should take your money.”

“A long time ago,” Gold said. “And if I’d gone on acting one hundred percent pure, where would I be right now? In Ramleh prison, on indeterminate sentence, and I’d be dead in six months. I’ve got a heart condition, I’m a physical wreck. So when an Arab was willing to talk to me, I shouldn’t extend him the courtesy?”

“Murray-Daddy-” Helen said. “That’s ancient history. Tell him about it, but in a nutshell.”

“I needed their help with the bust-out, and that went off fine. And there I was, didn’t have a cent to my name, and all my friends were either scared to see me or I couldn’t find them. How I needed those Black September guys. They bought me some clothes and an airplane ticket, and they carried in a suitcase for me. But after they got over here, this is my neck of the woods and the shoe was turned around, they needed me. They had no phone numbers at all. Of course I let them think I’m bigger than I really am any more. But with help from this dear child here, I worked it. Though I’m willing to state for the tape recorder that she didn’t know she was doing anything against the law.”