Brett Halliday - Stranger in Town

“He was very stern at first and denied it and talked about professional ethics, and I wept and pleaded with him and he finally asked me how much money I had. I told him plenty, and then he talked some more and for a hundred dollars in cash he finally gave me a card with Dr. Winestock, Brockton Sanitarium printed on it, and his name signed in ink underneath.

“He told me to show that card at the Sanitarium, and take nine hundred dollars in cash with me, and not let anybody in the world know where I was going, and that everything would be all right.

“I went straight from his office with the card to see Randolph Harris whom I had met a couple of times at parties. I told him what I suspected and everything, and he got excited and said they suspected the kind of business the Brockton Sanitarium did, but never could get any proof. He said he thought they were hand in glove with the police department here and it wouldn’t do any good to make a complaint, but if we could get real evidence the State’s Attorney could go to the State Police and have it raided. And he asked if I was willing to take a chance helping him, and I said I was after what I knew had happened to Jeanette.

“So we planned it for the next week-end,” she went on rapidly. “I had a week’s cruise planned with some friends in Apalachicola and was supposed to leave by bus Thursday afternoon. Instead I phoned Mrs. Larch that I couldn’t make it and for them to go on without me. And Randolph picked me up in his car that evening and we came to Brockton. I had the card signed by Dr. Jessup that I showed at the gate and they let us in. We had it all fixed. I was to say I was pregnant and he was my sweetheart, and he had nine hundred dollars in marked bills for the operation. So we went in and talked to the doctor in his office, and then they took me off into a side-room to wait while he made the final arrangement.

“And I don’t know what happened in the office,” she went on with a shudder. “The first thing I knew two men came and grabbed me and hustled me out to Randolph’s car and hit me on the head and piled me in the back where he was already lying knocked out. They were Gene and Bill, I know now. I was dazed but not unconscious. I vaguely remember them driving away and stopping and putting us in the front seat and I kept on pretending to be unconscious but held onto the door handle. And they poured gasoline on the car and on Randolph, I guess, and steered it off the road. I fell out as it turned over, and everything went black. And the next thing I knew I was walking down the road and you stopped to pick me up,” she told Mr. Magner.

Shayne said, “That’s it, then, Harris was absolutely right about calling the State Police in to clean up the mess. There’s a station just outside of town.” He got up and lifted the telephone calmly and told the operator: “Get me the State Police barracks, please.” A voice spoke through the receiver into his ear at the precise moment that a key grated faintly in the lock of his door ten feet away. He whirled toward the door and spoke in. a low, terse voice into the phone:

“Hold the line open.” He rammed the instrument back into his hip pocket with the mouthpiece sticking up and clear, and moved in front of the telephone as the door opened and the big muzzle of a. 45 preceded the bulk of Chief Ollie Hanger into the room.

Sliding through the opening behind him with sinuous grace was Gene with a faintly pleased smile on his ascetic face and a short-barrelled. 38 dangling negligently from his fingers.

Shayne said loudly, “What the hell you mean walking in with a gun like that? You can’t use it here. This is the Manor Hotel, for God’s sake. In the center of Brockton. Room four-ten of the Manor Hotel,” he repeated with emphasis. “You’re finished, Chief Hanger. You and your chief abortionist from the Sanitarium.”

“Yeh?” Hanger stepped aside stolidly with the muzzle of his gun steady on Shayne’s mid-section. “Don’t forget I’m still the law in Brockton, and if I shoot a man resisting arrest it’s nobody’s business. My God, you guessed right, Gene. The girl is here. But what in hell are you doing with these two, Magner? Didn’t know you were in on this. But maybe you’ll come in handy at that, and pick up a little business before the evening’s over.” He chuckled evilly and his big paunch jiggled up and down where it overflowed his belt.

Michael Shayne said, “Mr. Magner has been giving us some interesting information about the way your friend murdered Jeanette Henderson a month ago. Eugene Forbes, I think your name is,” he went on with a slight nod in the direction of the tall man who stood, blank-faced, against the door with the gun still dangling from his fingers. “Of course,” Shayne continued conversationally, “You’re already stuck with the murder of that waitress this afternoon on Main Street, and I watched you run down Mule last night and kill him. So even without Mr. Magner’s cooperation, I had plenty on you.”

“So you finally had to stick your big mouth into it?” said Chief Hanger venomously to the undertaker. “All right, by God. We’ll see just what…”

“Can it, Ollie.” Gene spoke in a voice that sounded unutterably weary. “We’ve got the three of them here where we want them, and all the talking in the world won’t change any of that. You better do the job with your gun so it’ll be official.” He inclined his head slightly toward Shayne as he spoke.

“Sure,” snapped Shayne. “You go ahead and blast me, Chief. You don’t see Gene sticking his neck into a noose. You do the job and if there’s any kickback, you’ll get it.”

“What about these others?” asked Ollie helplessly, looking from the girl’s erect figure to Magner who was shrunk back in his chair making himself as inconspicuous as possible. “I don’t mind a-tall gunning this goddamn snoopy shamus right here,” the chief went on. “But how in hell can I explain the others?”

“I’ll take them out with me,” Gene suggested easily. “Another accident won’t be too many, and they got to be shut up. On your feet both of you.” He did not raise his voice as he issued the order. He hardly looked at either of them.

“Don’t be fools,” Shayne said over his shoulder harshly to them. “Stay where you are. They can’t afford to start any shooting up here in a hotel room until you two are safely out of the way where he can finish you off at his leisure. No matter how much either of them wave a gun, don’t move out of your chairs.” He turned back to Ollie and asked, “About how far is it out to State Police barracks?”

“About six miles, but it might as well be six hundred far as you’re concerned.”

“Why, no,” said Shayne easily. “Six miles is just about a nice distance. In about one minute, give or take thirty seconds, they should be knocking on that door behind Gene. I told you you were through, Ollie. But if you’re smart and don’t pull that trigger before they get here, you should be able to beat a murder rap. Gene’s done all the actual killing thus far, the way I see it. Better let it stay that way.”

“Don’t let him kid you, Ollie.” Gene came away from the door slowly and began raising his gun. “We checked at the desk and he hadn’t made any calls. He’s bluffing. He didn’t have time to call ’em before we got up here.”

“How do you like this for a bluff?” Shayne didn’t look at Gene. He turned very slowly and stepped away from in front of the telephone so his back was to Chief Hanger. “That thing sticking up out of my hip pocket is the mouthpiece of a telephone… if you haven’t guessed. And it’s connected right now on a direct line to the State Police. They’ve been listening to every word spoken in this room since you two moved in, and if they’re the boys I think they are you’ve got twenty seconds left to figure what you’re going to tell them when they bust in.”