Brett Halliday - When Dorinda Dances

Turning back to Gentry, he said, “Don’t take this for an official identification, Will. Remember I’d only seen the man once. Except for his face, he is identical in appearance with Brewer when he left my office about five-forty yesterday afternoon, headed for Elliott Gibson’s office.”

“But I told you he never reached my office,” raged Gibson.

“You also told me he hadn’t phoned you he was coming,” Shayne reminded him.

“And I still say he didn’t phone me yesterday afternoon.”

Shayne shrugged and said to Gentry, “There you have it, Will. This isn’t my case, you know.”

“I demand that Godfrey be arrested immediately and brought back to Miami to face a charge of murder,” said Gibson.

“What can we base it on?” Gentry asked. “According to Black’s report—”

“You’re forgetting one thing,” Gibson interposed hastily. “I went over Black’s report with you in your office. He didn’t reach the packing-plant until several minutes after Shayne called him. When he did get there he found Godfrey’s car parked outside and there was a light in the office. He assumed — assumed, mind you — that because the car was there and lights in the office that Godfrey was inside all the time he waited. But there is absolutely no proof that Godfrey was in the office during that period.

“I submit,” he raged on, “that there was ample time for Godfrey to have been waiting downstairs at Shayne’s building, that he picked up Mr. Brewer as he left, murdered him, and then hurried back to enter the plant through the rear, turn out the lights, come out, and get in his car and drive away just as Mr. Black said he did.”

Will Gentry frowned. “How about that, Black?”

The disconsolate detective said, “Could be. I don’t believe it, but Gibson is right about one thing. I did assume that Godfrey was in the office all the time I waited — about ten minutes. I can check my notes, but I believe Godfrey came out at five forty-eight. If Brewer left Shayne’s office at five thirty-eight, that’s pretty fast work.”

“Nonsense,” Gibson said. “It’s not more than a four-minute drive from Shayne’s office to the plant on West Flagler.”

“That’s true enough,” said Shayne. “That leaves six minutes at the outside for Godfrey to get a man who was deathly afraid of him into a car, smash him up, drive him to the bay and dump the body, and then get back to the plant in time to emerge as Black saw him do. And don’t forget, Will, that Godfrey’s car was parked outside all the time. What car did he use for the murder vehicle? A taxi?”

“Gibson’s theory leaks like a sieve,” said Black. “It couldn’t be done. If Brewer was alive at five thirty-eight as Mike says, I’ll go on the stand and testify that Godfrey could not possibly have done this job.”

“Perhaps you have put your finger on it, Mr. Black,” Gibson said in a queer voice. “How do we know Milton Brewer was in Shayne’s office at five thirty-eight as he states?”

Shayne grinned and rubbed his angular jaw. “Don’t forget that I called Black and gave him all the dope.”

“But did Brewer actually speak to Black?” Gibson demanded.

Shayne said, “No. I did the talking. He was excited, and wanted me to get a good man for him.”

“What Brewer seems to have accomplished by putting Black on his partner’s trail,” Timothy Rourke interposed, “was an unimpeachable alibi for Godfrey.”

“There again,” said Gibson quickly, “perhaps you’ve put your finger, inadvertently, on something else.” He turned to the police chief, disregarding the smoldering anger in Shayne’s gray eyes. “Here’s a possibility. I’ll give it to you for what it’s worth. We know Godfrey planned to murder Brewer—”

“We know nothing of the sort,” Gentry rumbled wearily. “All we know is that Brewer told Shayne he suspected his partner planned to murder him.”

“I have absolute knowledge that it’s true,” Gibson argued. “Take this as a working hypothesis. Godfrey planned to murder his partner last night. He knows he will be suspected since he knows that I am fully aware of the situation. Therefore, he does exactly what this man — Mr. Rourke — said. He arranges an unimpeachable alibi. How? By picking out a private dick who is well known by reputation to be willing to do anything for money.

“I mean you, Mr. Shayne,” he went on bitterly, turning his head slightly. “If I were in Godfrey’s position, that is what I would have done, arranged the same setup. Then, after I had killed Mr. Brewer while out in my boat late in the afternoon, I would have had you do exactly what you did — telephone another private detective, give him the same song and dance you gave Black, and have him hurry out to trail Godfrey all night.”

Turning to Gentry again, Gibson continued. “According to Black’s notes, it is evident that Godfrey was exceedingly careful to do nothing that would make it difficult to follow him last night. In other words, he was building an alibi. Shayne states that Brewer was in his office and alive at five thirty-eight. Who saw him? We have to concede that Shayne phoned Black, and Shayne says Brewer left his office headed for my place. He also says something that I deny — that Brewer told him he telephoned me that he was coming. Isn’t that worth talking about, Chief?”

Gentry pushed his hat back and mopped his brow. “Let me see if I can get your reasoning straight, Gibson. You’re contending that Godfrey actually did kill his partner late in the afternoon while they were out on the bay together. He then went to his office, after having previously arranged for someone to follow him all night, in order to give himself an alibi for a crime he had already committed. Is that what you’re trying to say?”

“Haven’t I said it clearly enough? Why didn’t Shayne take this job himself? I know Mr. Brewer was willing to pay well for protection.”

Gentry looked at Shayne, who was absently rolling his left ear lobe between thumb and forefinger.

“I’ll tell you why,” raged Gibson, before Gentry could speak. “He called in another man because he and Godfrey realized that the alibi would be much stronger if it were strengthened by the testimony of a second man.”

“What about that, Mike?” Gentry asked.

Shayne’s eyes were very bright. He shrugged and said pleasantly, “I’ll discuss this privately with Mr. Gibson when there aren’t any cops around. Right now, just for the record, you can tell him that I turned down the tailing job because I had another client — an important assignment for the night that I had already accepted before Brewer came in.”

“Who was your important client, and what was the assignment?” Gibson demanded.

Shayne ignored the attorney and said to Gentry, “You know what the other job was, Will.”

“I know what you told me it was. And I know we’ve got two dead men now.”

Shayne turned his back on the two men and stepped over to look searchingly down at the corpse. The doctor was making notations in a black notebook, and Shayne asked, “Is that hair dyed, Doc?”

“I think so. Haven’t made a thorough examination yet.”

“I thought it was when he came to my office. What will you be able to do about the time of death?”

“That depends on a lot of things. Have to get him in where we can work on him. Give you something in two or three hours.”

“What can you give me now?”

“Couldn’t place it closer than between four and twenty-four hours.”

Gentry and Gibson joined them, and Shayne asked, “How positive are you of the identification, Will?”

“Mr. Gibson is willing to swear the body is that of Milton Brewer. You say he’s dressed exactly as Brewer was when he was in your office. And there was this wallet in his inner coat pocket.” Gentry held out a water-soaked pigskin wallet and added, “Business cards in it, and the usual identification. About eighty-five dollars in cash. If it isn’t Brewer, who is it?”