Brett Halliday - So Lush, So Deadly

“Help yourself to more vodka,” she said.

“I don’t like to give less than satisfaction, Mrs. Brady. Mike will bear me out. Isn’t that the standard procedure for proving adultery, Mike, as I’ve outlined it?”

“Sure. But Mrs. Brady doesn’t want you to hear what’s going on over there.”

Teddy cried, “I’m her witness! I’ve got to stand up in front of a judge and testify!”

“There’s more than one way of getting a divorce,” Shayne said.

She smiled at him. Suddenly she put one hand to her ear and listened intently. She signaled to Teddy and he started the recorder.

She adjusted the headset, covering both ears with the earphones. Shayne watched her closely. The room was silent except for a faint hum coming from the machine. Teddy, not liking the way this was going, kept rearranging himself and working away at the vodka. Her face was less attractive now that it was not in motion. It was all concentration and intelligence. Her movements, picking up a cigarette or drinking, were quick and graceful. Her eyes stopped now and then on Shayne, but he knew she didn’t see him.

At last she stopped the recorder and took off the earphones. She patted her hair with a satisfied smile.

“I’ve got the flash camera,” Teddy said hopefully. “You’re going to want a couple of action shots, to be on the safe side.”

“I don’t think so, Teddy. Thanks.”

He clapped his hands against his legs. “Just don’t blame me if they throw you out of court.”

“Teddy, you’ve been a doll, and if I hear of anybody else who needs this service I’ll give you a strong recommendation. Now pull in your wire.”

Teddy shrugged helplessly, and told Jack to put on his rig and get the bug.

“Experience just doesn’t seem to mean anything. There’s a right way and a wrong way, and this is the wrong way.” He unplugged the tape recorder, put the tape in its cardboard box and gave it to her. She was looking at Shayne again. This time he was sure she saw him.

“I wonder what I’m going to do with you.”

“Untie me, to begin with.”

“No, not yet. First I have to come to some conclusion about what you’re up to.”

“I’ll be glad to tell you as soon as Teddy’s out of the room,” Shayne said. “This whole thing is very weird. Everybody’s faking and pretending except me. I’m not concealing a thing. And I wish somebody would give me a cigarette.”

They exchanged a direct look. “And when I say everybody,” Shayne said, “naturally that includes you. You can fool Teddy because he wants to be fooled. He’s so short of capital he can’t afford to think about the story you gave him.”

“Do I pretend to be rich?” Teddy said.

“But don’t go by appearances,” Shayne went on. “He’s no mental defective. His mind will start working after your check clears.”

“No, it won’t,” Teddy promised.

Mrs. Brady shook a cigarette out of a pack, walked across to Shayne and put it between his lips. Her lighter flared.

“Teddy, you can go now. Pay no attention to what Mike says. You’ve done a first-rate job.”

They heard Jack clatter aboard with the equipment. Teddy considered the situation, from which he was being rapidly excluded.

“I wouldn’t trust him if I was you.”

“Who said anything about trusting him? As I said before, thanks.”

Teddy packed up his kit and started out, shaking his head.

“Oh, Teddy, for heaven’s sake,” Mrs. Brady said. “Sometimes there’s no point in having an audience. I intend to keep my wits about me, don’t worry.”

She went on deck with him and Shayne heard them talking in low tones. She came back with more ice.

“I’d like to untie you, Mike,” she said, “and maybe in a little while I will. I see you’re uncomfortable. First will you explain something?”

“Sure. What do you want to know?”

She replenished her own drink and made one for Shayne. “I hope you don’t mind if I feed you.”

She sat on the edge of the bunk, took the cigarette out of his mouth with one hand and held the cup to his lips with the other. It was awkward, but Shayne managed to swallow a mouthful.

There was a faint aftertaste to the vodka. Whiskey would have killed it. His nostrils flared. There was no longer any feeling in his hands and feet, but his brain was still getting all the blood it needed. Was it possible that this handsome, well-stacked woman was trying to feed him a Mickey? He was looking into her eyes. She had something in mind, and she didn’t want anyone dogging her. Teddy had romantic ideas about the things every self-respecting private detective should carry. A little vial of chloral hydrate would be one of the standard items in his kit.

“You didn’t get much of that,” she said. “Let’s try it again.”

This time Shayne held the mouthful until she leaned down to put the cup on the floor, and then let it run down his chin.

She ran a finger down his upper arm. “Mike, you’re a beautiful man. You have marvelous shoulders.”

“So do you,” he said. “Now that we can talk freely, what kind of stuff did you get on the tape?”

“Chatter,” she said carelessly. “Some of it pretty significant chatter. I should have explained things to Teddy before we went this far. Obviously I never had any intention of letting a fat detective with the inevitable cigar walk in and take pictures of my husband in bed with Dotty De Rham. She may be a little nutty but she also happens to be a fairly good friend of mine, as friends go in New York. Teddy wouldn’t understand. It’s something I couldn’t possibly do. Talk about status-there are restaurants in New York I couldn’t set foot into again, and they’re the only ones that serve food worth eating. People in my position simply don’t do things in such a crude way.”

“How well do you know her?”

She removed his cigarette and gave him another drink. This time, by shifting position as she put the cup down, he got rid of the mouthful in the bunk.

“We grew up together. We both went to Dalton. I met Paul at her wedding. It was a marvelous wedding, and they came to ours two months later. We had a couple of lovely weeks, Paul and I, and then it started going bad.”

“And now he doesn’t want to give you a divorce.”

“He’s quite willing to give me a divorce,” she said bitterly. “But he has unrealistic ideas about how much money I’ll hand over in return for that little piece of paper. He fooled me completely. He’s an excellent writer, Mike. He really is, very sensitive and talented, and I assumed that when we were married and he had no immediate financial worries he’d settle down and accomplish something. And he hasn’t written one line since we announced our engagement. Not a line. He says he’s looking for a subject! I want out, Mike, but I’m not giving him a penny.”

“How rich are you?”

She smiled. “I’m comfortably off, to use an old-fashioned expression. In spite of everything the accountants can do, and they’re gifted people, I end up paying an enormous income tax every year. I could afford to give him a pension, I suppose, but I’m not going to! He married me for my money, in cold blood, he’s as much as admitted it, and I’m damned if I’m going to let him get away with it.”

She gave him another drink. Again he managed not to swallow much of it.

“I’ve been planning to wait him out. I’m in no hurry.” She patted the tape. “Now I won’t have to. There’s some sexy conversation here. Really quite ribald, you’d be surprised. He was always very good at that part, much better than at what came afterward.”

“You think he’s planning to marry Mrs. De Rham?”

“That’s in the back of his mind, I think. Dotty and Henry are breaking up, or perhaps they’ve broken up already, and Paul must know by now that we’re through. Dotty has money. The mills paid a dividend this year, the first in ages, and the stock is booming. She needs a husband, and I think she’s likely to say yes. But she has a phobia about publicity.”