that free Government agencies can’t give without charge?”
“I suppose you’ve never heard of Governmental red tape,” she said witheringly.
“That’s not much of an answer,” Gentry rumbled.
Edna Taylor bit her underlip and strove for calmness. “You’re not a private citizen trying to understand the new rationing regulations that come out of Washington every day. We have all the forms and regulations on hand. We furnish free assistance in filling out requests for B and C cards, for new tires and so forth.
“Not only that,” she went on sharply, “we maintain trained mechanics who have made a special study of gas-saving devices and methods of obtaining maximum efficiency from available fuels. This service is supplied at cost to our members. And one of our most popular services is the formation of share-the-ride clubs among our membership. By dividing the city into sections we are instantly able to furnish a list of other members living nearby who wish to ride to work together, go downtown shopping on appointed days, arrange beach parties and so forth. All in all, our swiftly expanding membership list proves the value of the services we offer.” She shot Shayne a venomous glance as she ended.
He grinned cheerfully. “You make it sound good,” he admitted. “On the other hand, it’s a nice spot for a racket. And if you and Brannigan are mixed up in bootleg stuff and if one of your men bumped off Clem Wilson because he refused to go along… then you’d have a mighty good reason for wanting to know how much Clem told me before he was killed.”
Edna got up and asked Gentry in a tone of icy anger, “Do I have to sit here and be insulted in my own house, Inspector?”
Chief Gentry said, “If you’re in the clear I’ll see that Mike gets down on his knees and apologizes. But you’d better tell us what Seeney was doing here.”
Her cheeks flamed and her hazel eyes flared angrily. “I’ve told you I haven’t the faintest idea.”
“You’re too good a lawyer to believe we’ll accept his coming as a coincidence,” Shayne stated flatly.
“Perhaps he followed you here,” she parried. “If he is Mr. Wilson’s murderer he was probably looking for a chance to kill you.”
“Seeney wasn’t packing a rod, was he, Will?”
“No. He wasn’t armed. We searched his car, too. No gun in it.”
Shayne spread out his hands and looked at Edna. “That doesn’t look as though he was trailing me.”
“I don’t know,” she cried, breaking down at last. “I don’t know anything about it. You both look at me as though I… as though I…” She began sobbing violently and sank back on the couch.
Gentry raised his bushy brows at Shayne. Shayne shrugged and finished off his drink. The sound of the vice- president’s sobbing was loud in the room.
“She did kill him,” Shayne reminded Gentry soberly. “You can lock her up on that.”
“What’s the use?” Gentry sighed heavily. “She’ll cop a self-defense plea and we’ll never make it stick.”
“I could testify that…”
Gentry interrupted with a derisive laugh. “After all that nice publicity you got I don’t think your testimony would hold water with judge or jury.”
Shayne’s gaunt face was bleak when he said, “You could keep her out of circulation for a while.”
He stood up and thrust his hands deep into his pockets. He paced impatiently around the room for a moment, stopping before the couch.
Edna Taylor lifted her head and stared at him with teary eyes, “And I thought you…”
“You thought you had me on the end of a string,” he grated. “Like most women you think you can shake your sex at a man and make him forget everything else. Sure, I liked kissing you,” he went on brutally. “What you dames don’t take into consideration is that most men have something decent to remember.
“I’m out to get Wilson’s murderer, and by God if you had a hand in it I’ll see that you hang with the rest of them.” He turned his back on her abruptly, strode to the fireplace, rested his elbow on the rustic rock and put his palm against his bony cheek.
Gentry’s shrewd eyes followed his movements. He turned to Edna Taylor and asked, “Have you got anything to say to that?”
“It’s a filthy accusation,” she said in a taut, angry tone. “The whole thing is an utterly fantastic hypothesis based on nothing more concrete than the wildest supposition.”
Gentry heaved a sigh. “Is this all you’ve got for me, Mike?”
“That’s all right now,” he answered without lifting his head. “I must congratulate Miss Taylor for taking your cue so well.”
Gentry frowned, his eyes puzzled. “Did Wilson say anything that pointed directly to this motorists’ organization? And what do you mean by a cue?”
Shayne’s broad shoulders drooped. “Forget it. Wilson didn’t say anything that directly connects Seeney with the case, but I suggest you make a careful investigation of Seeney’s connection with Brannigan and Miss Taylor.”
“I will.” The puzzled frown on Gentry’s brow stayed fixed as he finished his one drink and got up.
“Are you taking her in?” Shayne asked.
Gentry shook his head. “Not yet. As it stands now, according to your own story, Seeney was drunk and intent upon coming into Miss Taylor’s home, even if he didn’t use force. I want to do some more checking up.” He strode to the door, turning before he went out to say, “Keep your nose clean, Mike.”
Neither Shayne nor Edna moved until the sound of Gentry’s heavy footsteps faded from the pavement and his official car rolled away.
Then, she asked brokenly, “How could you have said all those things, Michael?” She came close to him and lifted her arms toward his neck. “What sort of a woman do you think I am?”
He turned away and tossed a cigarette butt into the fireplace. “I don’t know,” he said in a harsh, weary voice.
She shivered. “It’s getting chilly in here.” She bent forward and struck a match to a small portion of matted pine needles and resin. The flame leaped up and the smell of burning driftwood was pleasant in the big room.
“You’re a fool,” she said drearily. “We could have had so much, but you’re afraid to believe in anything. You’re cursed with the need always to look beneath the surface for a hidden motive. I’m sorry for you.”
Shayne’s laugh was sardonic. “Hidden motives are my meat,” he confessed.
She laughed and there was a queer haunting sadness in her laughter. “You don’t know very much about women. You won’t let yourself. You’re too busy being cynical.”
Shayne turned away and got his hat, saying, “You missed your calling, Edna. You should have been an actress instead of a lawyer.” He stepped over the bloody spot where Seeney’s body had fallen and closed the door firmly behind him.
The soft mantle of moonlight lay over Miami. Stars shone faintly, striving against the moon’s bright light to lend their luster to the beauty of the sky. Shayne stopped for a moment and drew in several short breaths of fresh air, wincing with the pain of taped and broken ribs, then got in his car and drove moodily away. He had a sour taste in his mouth.
Edna Taylor was right. He was a fool. There wasn’t a particle of real evidence against her. It was entirely possible that Eddie had trailed him to her house. Eddie’s wife could have changed her mind and tipped her husband off. Eddie could have brought her to his apartment and waited to follow him.
He could have kept his mouth shut in front of Gentry and let Edna Taylor’s story stand. But before God she was a murderess, and he intended to find out why she had shot Eddie Seeney.
CHAPTER 13
Shayne stopped at the first drugstore and went into a telephone booth. The directory listed three Brannigans. One was a doctor and he disregarded the initials. He tried to remember whether Edna had called the president of the Motorist Protective Association by a front name, but could not recall it. He tried the other Brannigans until the unctuous voice he had heard that morning answered.
Turning his mouth partially away from the mouthpiece he made his voice sound excited and a little drunk. He
