Brett Halliday - So Lush, So Deadly

“And what was he doing before? I don’t care who you are, friend, we’ll see what kind of explanation you can give a judge. Trespassing, attempted rape of an eighteen-year-old girl-Will somebody please go to a phone and call the police?”

“You do, Dad, and I’ll never speak to you again,” Sally warned. She raised her voice. “Go back to sleep, everybody. It’s a silly misunderstanding. Mother, you persuade Dad to use some common sense.”

“It certainly won’t do any harm to see what they have to say,” her mother said. “He looks like a nice man and perhaps Sally-”

“A nice man!” the father exclaimed. “He looks like a thug, if you ask me.”

“Dad, honestly, he’s on a case-”

Shayne finished dressing and let the two women argue and threaten until finally the father said grudgingly that he was willing to listen to Shayne’s explanation.

“But it better be good!”

Paul Brady, in white Bermuda shorts, was waiting in the salon of the Nefertiti. He was drinking scotch, neat, in a highball glass.

“I’m told you like to drink cognac, so I bought a bottle of Hennessey’s. Is that all right?”

“It’s perfect,” Shayne said gratefully.

“Do you mind telling me what that commotion was all about?”

“Please. I’ve been talking steadily for fifteen minutes, and I still don’t think he believes me. I don’t want to have to go through it again.”

Brady poured cognac into a snifter and handed it to Shayne. “Sally’s a pretty girl,” he said with a straight face. “Of course she’s still a bit young.”

“Damn it, Brady, we’ve got other things to talk about.”

“True,” Brady said judiciously. “I take it you found Henry.”

“Right where you said I’d find him.”

“And Dotty was so sure he’d go back to New York! I wish I’d put some money on it. Not that she ever pays off when she loses.”

“I’d like to talk to her.”

Brady shook his head. “Not tonight, Shayne. She was better this afternoon. She got dressed and we entertained a lawyer-more hocus pocus with the famous last will and testament. Henry’s back in, you’ll be glad to know. That was her big effort of the day. She actually ate a tuna fish sandwich while she was downing three or four of her mammoth martinis, and it made her sick as a dog. I think it’s a good sign. Maybe she’ll feel so bad in the morning that she’ll decide to lay off the gin. God knows it’s time.”

Shayne held the big glass in both hands. “Did you know your wife is in town?”

Brady rose straight up, and in his agitation turned completely around before sitting down again. That answered Shayne’s question; he didn’t know his wife was in town. “Kathy?” he whispered. “Why? How did you-”

“She came down to see what’s been holding you up. She hired a detective to find out if you and Mrs. De Rham are sleeping together.”

“The horrible, horrible-” He ran his hand through his hair, looking suddenly worn and haggard. “This is inexcusable. A detective. I never thought she would be capable of anything so coarse. Do you know where she’s staying?”

“No. She rented a boat, but she doesn’t seem to be sleeping on it.”

“What a mistake that marriage was, Mike.” He looked at the floor, chewing a fingernail. “She can ruin everything.”

“Ruin what?”

“What do you think? Dotty has illusions that she can persuade Henry to come back with this will, but it’s not in the cards. She’s the type of woman who has to be married, just to have somebody to bicker with at breakfast. Here I am, an old friend, not exactly unattached but not far from it.” He looked up. “So I’m a heel. Do you think that’s such a goddamned easy thing to be? I was really thinking I had this sewed up. Henry was with a woman, wasn’t he?”

“Yes.”

“That’s something else I would have bet money on. Dotty’ll forgive him but the question is, will he forgive her? He’d be out of his mind if he did.”

From the other side of the closed stateroom door, Shayne heard dry retching, then the rush of water.

“Throwing up again,” Brady said, without sympathy. “If my dear sweet wife has a heart to heart talk with Dotty about me, I mean if she really lets down her hair, she can blow it, I’m sorry to say. I don’t expect you to feel sorry for me. As the cliche has it, it’s not your problem.”

“Is Henry blackmailing Mrs. De Rham?”

Brady looked at him narrowly. “Did he give you that impression?”

“Just answer the question, Paul,” Shayne said wearily. “It’s late.”

Brady snapped, “Not to my knowledge. Why the change in tone? I haven’t done anything except try to help.”

“What was Henry doing here tonight?”

Brady no longer had the reserves to look surprised. He said thinly, “You saw him, did you? I thought you might. He wanted to talk to Dotty, and he didn’t want his friend Brady to know he was talking to her. But I wasn’t asleep yet. Mike, we’re getting to a point where I can’t say anything more on my own responsibility. I’ve got to consult Dotty, as much as I dislike consulting a woman who’s being sick to her stomach. I don’t know if blackmail is the word. I suppose it comes close.” He stood up. “This may take a few minutes.”

He went to the door, but turned back before knocking. “How about letting it go till morning? She’s been puking her guts out. I doubt if she’ll know what I’m saying. Let her get some sleep.”

Shayne shook his head. “If I’m going to see Henry again, tonight’s the best time, before he can get set. I can stay here as long as necessary, all night if I have to. She’s bound to sober up sooner or later.”

“Not if she goes on drinking.”

“Take her bottles away, Paul. If you’re going to marry her, it’s to your financial advantage to get this settled.”

After a moment, Brady knocked on the door and let himself in. Instantly Shayne was out of his chair. He tried the knob carefully. The door was now locked. After a time he heard the toilet flush again, then a mutter of voices. Slipping off his shoes, he went on deck and checked the stateroom windows. Still he could hear nothing.

He went back into the salon and poured himself more cognac. Considerable time passed before Brady unlocked the door and came out, sweating.

“That was like pulling tacks with my fingernails,” he said, plumping down and draining his glass. “I have her authorization to tell you. Of course she won’t remember a thing in the morning, and who do you think’s going to take the rap? Let’s face facts, if Katharine’s determined to break this up she can do it. I may not look gainfully employed, but I work for a living, Mike, believe me. Who’s going to get your bill-Loring?”

“There may not be any bill. I haven’t done anything so far.”

Brady moaned. “What do you call nothing? You action people amaze me! I’ve got some activity for you, Mike, and if it works I could make myself very popular. If it backfires I may have to look for a nine-to-five job, which I’m loath to do. I know I’ll be bad at it.”

“Paul, stop dancing and tell me. What’s he got on her?”

“I can’t do things that way. I’ve got to back into it. I told you about the new will-it’s actually the old will, going back to the status quo. He gets everything after she takes care of the faithful old retainers, who aren’t too numerous, as a matter of fact. Dotty was so sure that once he saw it in black and white he’d realize where his best interests lay.”

He laughed harshly. “The next time I get married I’m going to insist on an irrevocable trust. Well, after the lawyer left I got called out to the marina office, they had a phone call for me. It was Henry: ‘Brady? What’s this crud about private detectives? Around here fuzz is fuzz, and when you have fuzz coming on with photographs people want to know why, man.’ He used to talk pretty good English, but the hippies have corrupted him. I told him Dotty wanted to see him, she’s made a new will. He said, ‘Beautiful! Tell her I left town.’ We went back and forth like that. I really tried to persuade him to come because I knew the best way to make it a real rupture was to get them together and let them yell at each other. I’m being honest. He finally agreed.”