Brett Halliday - Dividend on Death

“When did it happen-and why?”

“This afternoon. I gathered that he doesn’t care for inquisitive detectives.” Shayne grinned and lifted his glass. “Drink up.”

She lifted hers and clinked it against his glass. “Here’s to sex, sin, and such,” she proposed.

They both drank. Shayne poured out two more and pulled up a deep chair for Charlotte. He gave her a cigarette when she sat down, lit it and one for himself. “Did you tell Doctor Pedique where you were coming?”

“I certainly didn’t.” Her eyes sparkled rebelliously. “I slipped out. I don’t know what they think I am, keeping me cooped up like I was in a convent.”

“Maybe they think you’ve taken the vow,” Shayne suggested.

Charlotte wrinkled up her nose at him. “They call it twenty-four-hour duty. That was the arrangement when I took the case. They have another nurse now, but I’m still supposed to stick around every minute.”

Shayne lifted his glass and sipped at it. “Which must be plenty tough on a gal with the curves you’ve got scattered here and there.”

“I’ll say. I left a swell boy friend behind in the big city when I went out on this case.” She leaned back and stretched out long legs, her skirt sliding above her knees.

Shayne moved his chair a little closer and laid his hand over hers.

“You’re not supposed to leave the house, eh?”

“I’ve got strict orders to be on hand twenty-four hours every day,” she said resentfully. She sipped her cocktail and watched him from beneath lowered lashes.

“Of course,” said Shayne, “there’s Doctor Pedique and Clarence. You shouldn’t get too lonesome with them around.”

She said, “Oh, them,” making a wry face.

Shayne grinned. “I had a hunch they were maybe like that.”

“And how.” She set down her empty glass. “The whole gang over there is screwy, if you ask me.”

“How long have you been on the case?”

“Pedique and I went on it together just before they shipped him down here. But I didn’t come here to talk about cases. I thought you were a live number. You didn’t miss giving me the eye that first night when you came.”

“Give me time to get steamed up.” Shayne grinned. He emptied his glass, poured out two more cocktails. She tilted her head on one side and watched him.

“You sure mix pretty cocktails. Good, too. And they’ve got authority. I can feel just those two. They get me all hot inside. You know.” Her gaze was slumbrously passionate.

Shayne said, “Yeh. I know. Just relax. You’re among friends.”

She took a sip and leaned closer to him so her head touched his shoulder. “I won’t be responsible after I drink about two more. You’ll have to take care of me.”

“I can do that.” Shayne slipped his arm about her shoulders.

She giggled. “Yeh. I bet. Don’t take too good care of me. Anything goes, see? Anything. Just so you promise to send me home in a taxi at eleven-thirty.”

Shayne rubbed the lobe of her ear between thumb and forefinger and promised to see she got back on time. Then he switched the conversation back to the subject that interested him.

“So Pedique was called in on the case just before the patient left for New York?”

“Yeh. We both got a hurry call just about in time to catch the train.”

“I wonder why they changed doctors so suddenly?”

“I dunno. Rich people are funny. I think I did hear someone say that Monty had a fuss with the other doctor, though. Didn’t think he was doing the old boy any good.”

“Monty?”

“Yeh. Montrose. He practically runs things with the old man sick.”

“Is Pedique doing the patient any good?” Shayne asked suddenly.

“Not so you could notice it. Take it from me, he’s more interested in the kids than the old man.”

“Do you mean Clarence and Phyllis?”

“Yeh. That’s Doctor Pedique’s real racket, you know.”

“No. I didn’t know.”

“Sure. Screwy stuff. I’ve worked with him before. I don’t know how they came to call him in for the old man. But I didn’t come here to talk shop.”

Shayne grinned at her briefly and pressed his palm against her body beneath her arm.

“Don’t think I’m going to forget why you came here. But I’m curious about the setup over there. The two young folks aren’t Pedique’s patients, are they?”

“You’d think so, all right. He’s practically turned the old man over to Dr. Hilliard. I’ve got a hunch maybe that’s why they called Pedique in-using Mr. Brighton as a blind.”

“Is that so? They seemed normal enough.”

“Hell! You don’t know the half of it.” Charlotte tensed and pressed her cheek down against Shayne’s arm, turned her head slowly, and her teeth worried his flesh.

He laughed, said, “Hey! We need another drink,” and drew away from her to empty the shaker in their two glasses.

She leaned back laxly and watched him. Her face was flushed, and there was a hot glitter in her eyes.

“We’ll drink these, and I’ll mix some more.”

“I don’t know whether I need any more.” She took hers and emptied it avidly.

“Might as well let your hair all the way down-if you know what I mean.”

“God, yes. I know. I’ve always wanted to get drunk with a redheaded man. You know- drunk.” She spoke the last word with a feverish intensity. Her lips were moist and bluish-red.

Shayne said, “Uh-huh,” and put his drink down. Casually, he said, “You told me I didn’t know the half of it about the two youngsters. Do you mean they’re both-that way?”

Charlotte wagged her head wisely. “Clarence has got a loose screw, all right. And I can’t see that Doctor Pedique is doing him any good. The girl is different. I don’t quite catch her. She seemed all right at first. But she’s been plenty jittery lately. She’ll go out like a light one of these days, if she hasn’t already. But you were gonna mix me a drink.”

Shayne said, “So I was.” He got up and took the shaker into the kitchen, where he squeezed more fruit juice, mixed up another batch, and went back with it.

Charlotte had moved from her chair to the studio couch and turned out all the lights except one floor lamp near the foot of the couch. Her eyes followed him with anticipation as he pulled a straight chair near the head of the couch, arranged shaker, glasses, and cigarettes so they would be within arm’s reach.

Then he sat down beside her and poured two fresh cocktails. “Sit up and take some nourishment.”

She sat up waveringly. He steadied her with his arm about her shoulders while she gulped the drink down. She sank back with a little sigh and said, “That’s the kind of nourishment I’ve been pining for for a long time, Red.”

Shayne said irritably, “I hate to be called Red. My name is Mike.”

“Okay, Mike.” She looked up at him with invitingly pursed lips.

Shayne leaned over her and kissed her. Her arm went about his neck, drawing him down to her. With his lips close to her ear, he muttered, “Who killed Mrs. Brighton?”

“Who cares? Kiss me again, Mike.”

“I care. I’ll kiss you plenty-after you tell me.”

“Whadda you care? I didn’t kill the old battle ax.”

“I’m not even sure of that.”

Charlotte tittered. “You do pick the Goddamnedest time to go into your detecting act.”

“I’d like to find out before you get too drunk to tell me.”

“I’m pretty woozy right now, but not woozy enough to start making guesses on who got careless with a knife.”

“How do you know it was done with a knife?” Shayne asked softly.

“Wasn’t it?”

“I don’t know. I wasn’t there.”

Charlotte lifted herself unsteadily on one elbow and stared at him with indignant eyes.