Brett Halliday - Guilty as Hell

“He owns the firm. Let’s give him a chance to make up his own mind.”

Begley felt his jaw and finally managed to close it. “Settle?” he said, pronouncing only one syllable. He attempted to concentrate. “How much?”

“I’m not talking about money,” Shayne said. “You can’t outbid Despard’s. Give us the name of your contact, get United States to withhold the new paint and we won’t take anybody into court.”

Begley stared up, beginning to function again. After a moment he said quietly, “Is that a serious offer?”

Candida put in, “Naturally it’s not serious. It’s a trick.”

“It may not be,” Begley said slowly. “Shayne knows how hard it is to get enough evidence to impress a judge. I’d like to hear more about it. Candy, pour me a small slug of Scotch, please. I’m not up to that long walk across the room.”

After glancing at Shayne, she went into the kitchen. Begley went on, his eyes narrowing, “To be realistic, you can’t hope to get a cancellation at this late date. They’re in too deep. They might listen to a two- or three-month postponement. That would give your people a chance to get organized. I don’t say Perkins will like it, but you outweigh us financially, and if we can avoid a bruising fight-”

Candida came back. Making no comment, she handed him a tumbler partly filled with straight whiskey. She had brought the bottle and two more glasses. She let Shayne make his own.

Begley emptied his glass without pausing for breath. He stood up, steadying himself on the back of the chair until he felt it was safe to let go.

“I don’t want to say anything more before I’ve talked to my principal. He’s in town, as it happens. Candida’s been handling this account. Now that I know which way the wind is blowing, I think I’ll let you talk to her about it. I’ll sound out Perkins. Let Candida know where I can reach you.”

“Will he take your advice?” Shayne asked.

“I imagine so. He’s a reasonable sort.”

He was trying hard to keep up the pretense of being a top man in a competitive business, but the cracks showed. He straightened his jacket.

“Incidentally, Shayne,” he said, turning, “I’m thinking of cutting back on the more freewheeling aspects of the business. The take, frankly, is not that good. If I go back to recruitment full time, I see no reason why I should impinge on you or you should impinge on me. There’s enough legitimate money lying around for both of us.”

“I thought you wanted it all.”

“No, just my fair share.”

He went out. A moment later Shayne heard a motor start in the court. He poured himself a drink.

“He’s getting ready to dump you,” he said, drinking.

“Oh?” she said coldly.

“It’s his one out. You had charge of the Deedee business, and he’s going to maintain that the duty work was strictly yours. If he moves fast enough, he may even get away with it.”

“Very transparent, Michael. I know you’d like to drive a wedge between us. It’s the oldest ruse in the world. Far from being dumped, as you put it, I’m being made a full partner.”

Shayne gave her an amused look. “In return for what? For giving me Walter Langhorne?”

She gave a tired sigh. “It’s true Hal and I have different views on how to proceed. It’s been wearing, to say the least. I’ll need a couple of anacin before I can deal with that remark. Please help yourself to the whiskey. I’ll be back in a moment.”

Shayne lifted his glass to her and sat down on the sofa. As soon as she was out of sight, he kicked off his shoes and followed, taking his drink.

He made no noise on the stairs, but a floorboard creaked beneath him in the upstairs hall. Candida was on the other side of the bed. She whirled, holding the empty safe-deposit box.

“Damn you!” she said. “Damn you, Mike Shayne! I thought you were a little too sure of yourself.”

“Does it make that much difference? Deedee and Fitch and Despard have all been talking to me steadily for the last hour.”

She threw the metal box on the bed. “I thought it would be safer here than at the office. How wrong I was! What are you going to do with it?”

“Put a few people in jail,” he told her, coming into the bedroom. “Whether that includes you is going to depend on how much you tell me. I don’t want to take this extortion setup to the cops. The wrong people will be hurt. In my book-and it’s an argument I have with certain vice cops in this town-the crime called ‘entrapment’ is worse than a little extracurricular sex between a middle-aged man and a teenage girl who doesn’t give much of a damn as long as there’s money in it. What’s Begley’s idea of a solution that will satisfy everybody?”

She bit her lip without answering.

“Walter Langhorne wouldn’t be bad, as a matter of fact,” Shayne said. “He’s in no position to complain. We might be willing to settle for Langhorne. What’s your objection?”

“Because he-”

She stopped.

Shayne said, “Because he didn’t do it or because you liked him?”

“I did like him. I liked him terribly.”

“Spies aren’t supposed to like people,” Shayne commented. “It gets in the way.”

She shook back her hair. “They aren’t supposed to trust anybody, either, and I don’t trust you, Mike Shayne. You talk about a solution that will satisfy everybody. That’s pure hypocrisy, and you know it. Somebody has to win, somebody has to lose. If we let you beat us again, we’re finished. Don’t get Hal Begley, because all a private detective named Shayne has to do is clear his throat and they fall to pieces. Any intelligence assignments that came our way from then on would be the dangerous ones other firms had already turned down.”

“What’s wrong with being a simple executive recruiter?”

“It’s so damn dull!” she burst out. “You ought to understand that, if anybody can. Mike, spell out the alternatives, will you?”

“I have Deedee. That’s a front-page story even without Despard’s name. It’s libel-proof.”

She nodded thoughtfully. “I used to think there was no such thing as bad publicity. Hal Begley, the Agency That Gets Results. But this, I’m afraid-”

Meeting him at the foot of the bed, she took the glass out of his hand. She shuddered after drinking from it.

“How can you drink it straight like that? Well, Mike. I’ve been making mistakes. Having you beaten up was a mistake. Trying to hurt you with Deedee was a mistake.”

He grinned at her.

“And what’s that expression supposed to mean?” she asked. “Don’t you think I mean it?”

“You keep telling me things.”

She looked puzzled, then shook it off. Her tongue flicked across her lips.

“Mike, it may very well be that you have too many cards in your hand. Can I have a little time or do I have to decide this minute?”

“What’s going to change five minutes from now?”

“I was thinking of longer. Could I have a couple of hours?”

“Why?”

“Mike, to catch my breath! I don’t know how you did it, but suddenly everything’s upside down. Yes, Hal wants me to tell you the report came from Walter, with some circumstantial story you won’t be able to check in less than a couple of days. But I’ve been refusing to do it that way. Either I’ll tell the truth or tell you to go to hell.”

“Tell the truth, Candida, it’s simpler.”

She shook her head shortly. “Simple is the one thing it’s not. I’m honestly not trying to be clever. I don’t trust you, and I’m not asking you to trust me. You can keep your eagle eye on me and see that I don’t make any phone calls behind your back.” She put a hand on his bare arm. “I’m in earnest. Let’s sit down and do a little civilized drinking and talk about something altogether different.”