Brett Halliday - Six Seconds to Kill

“I follow you,” Shayne said. “Are you going to be in that room for a while?”

“I rented it for the paper, to be near the action. But I don’t like to tie myself down to the phone, if that’s what you mean.”

“Leave somebody covering if you go out. If anybody picks up any leads on what happened to Camilla, I want to know about it as soon as the cops do, and if possible sooner.”

“Mike, if you think you’re going to accomplish anything, you’re out of your goddamn mind. This is what we know as a manhunt. Show your nose anywhere in Dade County and you’ll get it shot off. For God’s sake, give up and stay alive!”

“Save it, buddy. I’ll say it once and I hope it sinks in. You remember what happened to Lee Harvey Oswald. I don’t want the same thing to happen to Camilla, because then we’ll never find out who switched the bullets in her gun. Somebody did. Crowther was pulling the strings up to nine o’clock last night. After that somebody else took over. That’s absolutely the only explanation that fits the facts. Whatever Berger thinks, I know I didn’t put any bullet holes in the wall. I know I didn’t pay six-fifty to listen to Crowther sound off. Crowther bought that ticket himself, to pay me back for my part in the Steele case.”

“I admit that’s a possibility-”

“It’s the only way it could have happened, Tim. Then after the shooting, people would figure just the way you did-that I’d helped her, thinking she was just going to yell something. It’d make me look stupid, if nothing worse. Here’s the problem. Switching bullets is one thing that can’t be done on the phone. She saw whoever did it, and he’s going to be gunning for her. I want to get there first.”

“Let the cops do it, Mike. One of the cameras got a very good look at her. How far can she get?”

“She killed an important man. If she’s arrested she won’t be arrested gently. They’ll grab her and drag her in with maximum publicity. She’s in a shaky mental condition, and the kind of treatment she’s sure to get from the cops and you people can easily knock her all the way back into psychosis, and she’ll never be able to answer any questions. If she goes permanently nuts, I’m permanently out of the private detective business. From what you tell me, I may also be in jail.”

“Well, OK, but it’s risky. What do you want me to do?”

“Get her doctor, Irving Miller, and a guy named Paul London. Have them stand by. Get a list of everything that’s missing from the airport warehouses. I don’t mean a complete inventory, just the principal items. Call me as soon as you have it.”

He hung up. Keeping her fingers in his palm, Adele twisted out from under the steering wheel, and kissed him.

“What was that for?” Shayne said.

“I don’t know. But we seem to be in the same kind of trouble, don’t we? I want to think for a minute.”

“No time for that, Adele.”

“I know where we can get a power boat-”

“Forget it. You’ll do better by yourself. I’m the one they’re looking for now, not you. How much money do you have?”

“Fifty dollars or so.”

“I’ll give you another thousand, contingent on getting some information. If you can’t help me, I’ll tie you to one of those headstones and tell the cops where to find you.”

“Would you really do that?”

“I really would, and not just to be mean. It would show them I’m trying to be helpful.”

“Damn, damn. I guess I do need some money, but I’ve got to bargain. Tell me what you think I’d better do, so I can see if it sounds possible.”

“We can assume you were seen getting into my car. But until everybody starts comparing stories, the theory’s going to be that you got off in the plane with the rest of them. You’ve got a couple of hours. Catch the first bus out of town, it doesn’t matter where. Buy some different clothes and a suitcase in the first big town you come to. Keep traveling by bus, and keep reading the papers. You’ll be in Mexico in a few days, and then you can decide where to go next. There are revolutions all over the world. Take your pick.”

“You aren’t coming with me?”

“Baby, I’m on the side of law and order.”

“I know that, damn it! All right, Mexico. I don’t know about afterward. Life isn’t as simple as it was a few hours ago. How I hate to be lied to! I thought Gil was- beautiful, Mike. Honest and brave and tough. But now-”

“Now,” Shayne prompted.

“He did have something to do with that assassination. Which may be all right. Crowther was an evil man, a terrible man. But I wish he hadn’t used a sick woman who had nothing to do with the Movement-”

“So do I. You realize I need facts.”

“You said somebody switched bullets. Last night he had a bullet he was trying to match.”

“What time?”

“After midnight. We were at a place in Coral Gables, five of us. I couldn’t sleep. Gil was playing a six-string guitar, very softly. The phone rang downstairs. He went to answer it, and after that I think he went outside.”

“For how long?”

“Ten or fifteen minutes. He brought back a bullet. I think it was a blank, it looked sort of flat at one end. We all compared ours with it. There was a lot of rummaging around. By that time we had quite a collection of various ammunition, and when he found the right size he went out again and everything settled down. Then he came back and started playing the guitar. I never did get to sleep.”

“Except for that one period, he was in the house the whole time?”

“Yes. Everything was all worked out, and all we had to do was sit around and try not to get too nervous.”

“Did anybody else leave during the night?”

“No.”

“All right, that fills in a few gaps. The woman who shot Crowther is two or three inches shorter than you are. Ten years older, and those have been long, hard years. Not as much bosom, skinnier in the can. Her hair would be any color, any length. When I saw it today it was hacked off short, a streaky light brown or chestnut. But she has a variety of wigs at home. She was very red in the face this morning, but that’s not how she usually looks. Does any of this mean anything to you?”

She shook her head, and Shayne continued, “She was at the airport at nine. She knew her apartment building was being watched, so she wouldn’t go back there. We checked every hotel and motel and rooming house, and most of her friends. We didn’t find her. She spent the night someplace. One of the few things I know about her is that she isn’t up to making any elaborate arrangements herself. If Ruiz gave her some bullets, maybe he also gave her a key. There weren’t any keys in his pockets. How long’s he been in town?”

“A week. Less than that, five days.”

“And he’s been very hot. Somebody probably rented him an apartment under a fake name. On a side street, with its own entrance, probably on the edge of the Spanish district.”

“I wonder,” she said doubtfully. “Can I use your phone?”

He had drawn in the antenna. He extended it again and brought in the operator.

“Mr. Painter called again,” she said, and laughed. “We had a terrible connection and I couldn’t hear him very well. But he sounded excited.”

“Keep lying to him,” Shayne told her.

He passed on a number Adele gave him, and handed her the phone. In a moment she began talking rapidly in Spanish. She broke the connection and gave the operator another number.

This time she was met with a barrage of questions, and it was a moment before she could break in. After another moment she asked Shayne, “Does the woman you’re trying to find speak Spanish?”