Brett Halliday - The Body Came Back

“You mean… he knows Al is dead and that’s why he feels safe in selling whatever it is to me?”

“It might be the answer. In that case, if he got the money he’d probably be more than willing to keep his mouth shut about Al going to the Encanto tonight.”

“And that’s all we want, isn’t it?” Her eyes were beginning to shine again and there was a look of fresh hope on her face. “We don’t care what it is that belonged to Al. We just want him not to tell the police that Al came to see me tonight.”

“Which makes it pure and simple blackmail,” Shayne pointed out angrily.

“What do we care what it is? I’m willing to pay… anything.”

“If it will do us any real good. We’ve still got the problem of the missing body. I haven’t told you about that, Carla. We’re still on thin ice even if this man can be shut up. You see, Al’s body is riding around town right now, locked up in the trunk of a Ford belonging to Al’s brother-in-law and still wrapped in the hotel blanket. The police know I was driving the car tonight, and as soon as the body is discovered they’re going to be on my neck.”

“Did you say Al’s brother-in-law?”

“Yes. Did you know he had a sister living in Miami?”

“I knew there were a couple of sisters, but I didn’t know them or where they lived.”

“One bit of information I picked up tonight that might have some bearing on the picture is that Al has recently been mixed up in some sort of crime and is probably wanted by the police. You don’t know anything about that, I suppose?”

“How could I? I told you I haven’t heard a word about him for years.”

Shayne muttered, “I know you told me that. It just occurred to me you might be holding something back. Don’t do it, Carla. If I’m going to go on helping you I’ve got to know exactly where I stand.”

She lifted her chin and met his steady, probing gaze unflinchingly. “Every word I’ve told you is the truth, Mike. I’m not surprised if Al is in trouble with the law. If he’s a fugitive, won’t that… help some when his body is found? I mean, won’t the police be more inclined to say good riddance and not work too hard to find out who shot him?”

“That’s partially true,” Shayne agreed. “However, it doesn’t change anything too much. What I was thinking, Carla, is about this man who called you. Did he seem to assume that you were close to Al… that you were aware of his current situation? In other words, thinking back on the telephone conversation and knowing, now, that Al is in some very recent and very bad trouble with the law… is it your impression that this man thought you knew about it… that he may be an accomplice or something?”

“I honestly don’t know how to answer that, Mike. He sounded very much as though he thought I knew exactly what he had to sell me, and as though I should be very glad to buy it for ten thousand dollars. I just didn’t know how to answer him.” She shuddered openly and drank the last of the small amount of liquor she had poured into her glass.

“What do all these questions matter now?” she asked passionately as she set the glass down hard on the table. “Our only concern is Vicky… and keeping her out of this. If we can manage that by paying him off… isn’t that worthwhile?”

“We’re both in the middle of it along with Vicky,” Shayne reminded her soberly. “If the truth about tonight’s shenanigans ever comes out into the open, you and I are both subject to very serious charges.”

“All the more reason for hushing it up if we can,” she cried out excitedly. “Look!” She snatched up her handbag and extracted a leather wallet which she opened and from which she took a sheaf of bills. She spread them out on the table in front of him. Nine hundred-dollar bills, a fifty, two twenties, and a ten. There were a few other twenties and tens which she separated from the others and put back into her wallet.

“There’s an even thousand, Mike,” she breathed, pushing the pile of bills toward him. “That’s practically all the cash I brought with me. Take it. And I’ll give you an IOU for the other nine thousand. Please don’t argue about it any more. Have you got a blank sheet of paper?” She scrabbled inside her bag, came up with a ballpoint pen and looked at him hopefully.

Keeping his gaunt face expressionless, Shayne opened the center drawer of the table and pulled out a blank sheet of writing paper. She pulled it toward her and scribbled on it: “Mike Shayne. IOU Nine Thousand Dollars ($9,000.00). Payable on demand.” And she signed it, “Carla Andrews.”

“There,” she breathed, pushing it toward him. “Will you please get the rest of the money in cash, Mike?”

Shayne carefully folded the bills comprising her thousand dollars lengthwise, and picked up her signed IOU. He studied it for a moment, then folded it around the bills and put the small packet in his pocket. “All right, Carla. Much as I dislike blackmail…” He shrugged his broad shoulders with a grimace of repugnance, and then looked at his watch. “How long ago was it when this character telephoned you?”

“It seems like a long time. It was… something after one o’clock, I know. About one-thirty or a quarter of two. I left the hotel and came straight over here.”

Shayne said briskly, “It’s almost two-thirty now. He should be calling you pretty soon.” He hesitated, frowning down at the floor. “When you gave him this number, you didn’t tell him it was my phone, did you?”

“No. I just said I was going to see a friend who might help me get the money. I thought maybe it would be better if he didn’t know I was coming straight to you.”

“You were probably right. When he calls, you answer the phone. Just tell him you’re with a friend who’s getting the money together for you… and turn the phone over to me. I’ll arrange to meet him somewhere and give him the cash.”

“Can you get it all right? At this time of night?”

Shayne said, “I can get it. Right now I’m more worried about the Ford that’s rolling around town with your husband’s body in the trunk than I am about this other deal. Fixing one still isn’t going to fix the other.”

“Oh?” She looked quite dismayed, then said faintly, “I…”

Shayne shook his red head wearily. “I’m hoping the brother-in-law will come to me. Otherwise, I’ve got to try and get my hands on that Ford somehow…”

He was interrupted by the ringing of the telephone. He instinctively reached a hand out for it, then checked himself and nodded to her. “You take it and see if it’s your man.”

Fearfully, she lifted the receiver and said, “Hello,” into the mouthpiece. Watching her while she listened, Shayne saw the strained look fade from her face. “Yes,” she said briskly. “I’ve got everything arranged. My friend, Mr… Jones, is helping me get the money. Why don’t you… talk to him and fix things between you?”

She lifted her head and thrust the instrument at Shayne. “He wants to know when and where you’ll make the pay-off.”

Shayne took it and said drily, “Jones speaking.” He stiffened as he recognized the voice that came over the wire. It was George Duclos, whom he had heard talking with Sergeant Loomis at police headquarters:

“You got the money, huh? In cash?”

Shayne said, “I’m getting it together. It takes a little time… two-thirty in the morning like this. I’ll have all of it ready in… oh… half an hour.”

“Ten thousand. Right?”

Shayne said, “Right. Where do I deliver it?”

“I been thinking about that. This is on the up-and-up, huh? No angles. No cops?”

“No angles and no cops,” Shayne assured the man. “You set it up to suit yourself.”