Brett Halliday: Violence Is Golden

“Let’s make this brief. I’m beginning to-”

He waited until a haze of black whirling dots, which had appeared suddenly in front of his eyes, began to disperse. “I know, Carmody. The gold. I can give you a pretty good location, and you’ll probably want to send divers down to be sure, but you won’t find any gold in that luggage. I unpacked it last night and moved it into the tail-cone of the plane. Wait,” he said as Carmody came to his feet. “It won’t matter if it’s stolen. Adam knew the container fell out of the plane, but for some reason he wasn’t interested in finding out where. How do you explain that?”

“It wasn’t real gold!” Rourke exclaimed.

“Give the man a cigar. He set this whole thing up as an elaborate trap. He wanted three things-to expose the traitors in his organization, to find the gold he lost last summer, and to get me out of Miami so he could kill me. But what if something went wrong? He didn’t want to be burned twice. I think you’ll find that those bars are gold-plated.”

“Goddamn it, Mike,” Carmody said, “you swindled me into-”

“Into giving me a percentage I damn well earned. Don’t whine about it.”

Shayne leaned back against the pillows and his eyes closed.

“You don’t intend to charge me with anything, do you, Mike?” Mary said. “Do you? You know you can’t prove anything.”

“That’s probably true,” Shayne said wearily. “You were involved in a conspiracy to commit murder and to hijack an airplane, but most of the possible witnesses are dead. Petey may try to get an indictment, but that’s up to him. As far as I’m concerned, the hell with it.”

“Do you mean she gets off scot-free?” Christa said.

“I didn’t say that. If she wants my advice, she’ll start running right this minute, and keep running. It’ll be adventurous as hell.”

Mary stared at him.

“Because do you think Adam is going to let you off?” Shayne said gently. “He’s lost that million and a half for good this time. He’s lost a yacht worth a hundred thousand. He was holding a submachine gun on me at point-blank range, and he ended up with a bullet in his own shoulder. I doubt if he’s happy about any of this. I expect I’ll see him again. So will you. Think about it, Mary, and keep moving.”

“But I didn’t do anything! Not really! Even if I did have anything to do with that Persian Gulf business, which I certainly don’t intend to admit, the gold was illegal the minute it left that bank. I don’t see-”

“You killed three people, Mary.”

“I did not!”

“The Arab crew,” Shayne explained patiently. “You planted a bomb on their boat. They all drowned.”

“But they were only-”

She stopped short and looked around the room, the blood draining out of her face.

Painter said briskly, “Did she kill LeFevre, too? That’s the one I want explained.”

“Christa did that,” Shayne said.

Christa took a step backward. “Mike, you’re mad.”

“I’m a little mad,” he said. “Not crazy-angry. LeFevre was killed by a woman. That’s the one thing I know. He let her into the room himself. He liked women. He was hoping to hit a few striptease places later that night. He was carrying contraceptives. If he’d opened the door to Mary, he would have closed it in her face. But you, dear-”

“You don’t mean this, Mike.”

He raised himself on his elbows and said harshly, “You’re one of Adam’s people. Your assignment was to share a room with me until I’d done what he wanted me to do, and then kill me. Petey’s going to prove you were in LeFevre’s room. Leave him to himself and he goes yapping off in ten different directions, but point him right and he’s really not a bad cop.”

Painter flicked at his mustache.

“Thanks for nothing,” he snapped. “I don’t consider this case closed, by any manner of means. He shut the door in somebody else’s face. That’s the flimsiest basis for a murder accusation I ever heard in my life.”

“He wanted a woman,” Shayne said. “He wasn’t thinking about gold, but about sex. He opened the door, and Mary was standing there. As I remember the line, it was, ‘You look lovely.’ For God’s sake-look at her.”

Mary said, “You’re horrible. You’re a horrible man. He didn’t slam the door in my face! He let me in and I-”

“No, he didn’t, Mary.”

“You’re so wrong! You don’t know a thing about him or about me, either! I’ve had more sexual experiences than you can even imagine!”

“Get her out of here before she confesses,” Shayne said to Painter.

“I have!” she screamed. “Do you think men like to go to bed with Vogue models? Real men? You’re mistaken! Jules told me I was one of the best bed partners he ever had, and so did Nikko! Do you know how much they paid me for what I did last summer? Zero! Not a penny. What a sell. They thought I’d be satisfied with a little tumble. You’re so wrong about everything. That night in Miami Beach he was still putting me off. Sex, yes. Money, no.”

“Where did you get the drugs?” Shayne said quietly.

“I had them! I keep telling you-you don’t know a thing about me. I go to Chicago on weekends. During summer vacations, believe me, I really swing. I decided to give him one more chance. I loaded the pate. I didn’t know you were going to be there-that’s what’s called ‘serendipity.’ And all the old goat wanted to do was go to bed and make love. I was high as a kite myself by that time, and the obvious solution to all my problems was right there staring me in the face. What did I need Jules for? I didn’t. And then you phoned from the lobby, and I saw exactly how I could do it.”

She whirled on Painter. “And if you think you can get a conviction on that kind of evidence, try it! I take it all back. I don’t have a lawyer yet, do I, so it doesn’t really count.” She laughed. “And as for the sinister Sir Geoffrey Adam, he’d better not fool around with me! I’m ready for him.”

There was more, but by that time Shayne had fallen asleep.

He heard Christa say, “That was brilliant, Mike. The way you accused me and trapped her into confessing-”

Shayne made a final effort. “Naomi knows Portuguese.”

“What?” Christa said blankly.

“She heard the orders you gave Sanchez. And now that we all understand each other, will you get the hell out?”

After a moment Christa said lightly, “I didn’t really expect it to work. I thought it was worth trying.”

Then Shayne was alone with Naomi.

“Mike, I know you want to sleep, but can I stay with you? You were right about my marriage. It was finished after a week. I was foolish to think I could patch it up. I’ll be quiet. Can I stay with you?”

“Yes,” Shayne said as the light faded.