his way back dazedly in the tub, but Shayne kept moving the swiveled head of the shower to keep the full force on his head and face.
Presently Randolph opened his eyes. “Shut it off-for God’s sake,” he muttered thickly. “I’m drowning.”
Shayne shut off the water and said, “Stand up and we’ll get your clothes off.” He reached in and supported the drenched man, unbuckled his belt and shirt, and helped him to get out of the soggy clothes, leaving them in the bathtub.
Randolph clung to Shayne as he stepped naked from the tub and staggered to the toilet seat, where he collapsed again, his head hanging in his quivering hands.
Shayne said, “Take it easy. Try to rub yourself down while I make some coffee.”
He left the sagging man and went through the living-room to a tiny kitchenette and found the necessary things to make coffee. While it was brewing, he went into the living-room and scrubbed the vomit from the day- bed.
Randolph swayed from the bathroom as he finished. His naked body was flabby and wet, and he held one hand pressed to his forehead. He groaned and said, “Get me a robe, will you? Hell of a hang-over.” He groped his way into the bedroom and Shayne followed, found his robe, and got his arms into it as one would dress a rag doll.
“Come out here and sit up,” Shayne demanded, leading Randolph by the arm to a chair in the living- room.
Shayne went back to the kitchenette and found a can of tomato juice in the refrigerator. He opened it and poured out a large glassful, added a couple of teaspoonfuls of Worcestershire sauce, and sprinkled it with Cayenne pepper. He carried the glass into the living-room, where Randolph was slumped low in a chair.
“Here-drink this down. If it stays, we’ll follow it with black coffee.” He held the glass to Randolph’s lips.
Randolph brought both his hands up to grasp the glass. Shayne let go, and the insurance man’s hands trembled violently, spilling the juice over his black silk robe. Shayne took the glass and held it to his lips and Randolph emptied it in a dozen quivering gulps, then slumped back in the chair, his body inert.
“Hold on,” Shayne said. “The coffee is ready.” He hurried to the kitchen and brought a steaming cup of coffee. “Here, sit up and drink this.”
Randolph pulled himself up slowly. “God, I hope you don’t think I meant to get this way,” he said thickly, “Passing out like a school kid. God, I can’t remember when I ever did that before.”
“I think,” said Shayne soothingly, “you were under a terrific mental strain after I left here last night. You just poured the stuff down faster than you realized.”
Randolph sighed, holding himself erect with an effort “I was tired and worked up over that jewel loss.”
“And a hell of a lot more than that,” said Shayne.
Randolph’s glazed and half-drunken eyes lifted to meet Shayne’s. “What’d you mean by that?”
Shayne sat down opposite him and lit a cigarette. “Finish your coffee and I’ll get you another cup. We’ve got a lot to talk about.”
Randolph looked at him with a worried frown, then took the cup firmly in both hands and lifted it nervously to his mouth. Some of it spilled, but he kept on sipping until it cooled enough to drink.
Shayne got up and went into the kitchenette and brought the coffee pot back. He refilled Randolph’s cup and took the pot back. When he returned he resumed his seat, crossed his knees, and sat bent forward studying the toes of his big shoes abstractedly while the insurance agent drank most of his second cup of coffee.
Randolph raised his eyes to Shayne’s and asked, “Why you looking at me like that? Ish it the brashlet?”
Shayne’s gray eyes narrowed. Randolph’s sudden drunken slurring of words made him suspicious. He said, “A lot of things have happened, and I wasn’t looking at you.”
“But you wash thinkin’ about me, an’ I don’ like it,” said Randolph.
“Cut it, Earl,” said Shayne sharply. “A lot of things have happened that don’t make sense. Unless-you seriously consider the possibility that those rubies were fakes.”
Randolph gulped down the last of his second cup of coffee and straightened up. “Star rubies! Impossible. There are tests that definitely-”
“Did you apply them at any time?” Shayne cut in sharply.
Randolph put his elbows on his knees and rested his chin wearily in his palms. “It wasn’t necessary. Star rubies can’t be made synthetically. Walter Voorland is one of the world’s greatest experts.”
Shayne brought his long torso up stiffly. “We keep coming back to that. Just for the sake of argument, let’s suppose the damned things were synthetic and Voorland knew it. Suppose the ones he sold King and Kendrick and Mark Dustin were all synthetic. Would that explain the curious string of coincidences? The theft of each one soon after it was purchased?”
“I don’t see,” said Randolph dazedly, “how the fact that they were synthetic would change anything.”
“It might explain why none of the rubies were ever recovered,” Shayne retorted. “Suppose the thieves discovered they were synthetic?”
“All the more reason why they would have been returned to the insurance company for a reward,” said Randolph.
Shayne considered for a moment, then asked, “Would the insurance company pay a reward for fake gems?” A deep frown creased his forehead and a muscle quivered in his gaunt face.
“Why not?” Randolph rolled his puffy eyelids up and looked at Shayne with eyes glazed and half-drunken. “We’d turn them over to the original owner and save the amount of the policy.”
Shayne frowned and formulated his words slowly. “We were going on the hypothesis that Voorland knew they were synthetic when he sold them.”
“A crazy hypothesis,” said Randolph weakly. His head bent forward to rest in his palms.
“In which case,” said Shayne, “he might have arranged to have them stolen.”
Randolph groaned and ran his hands over his forehead. “In the name of God, why? He’d collected his full price in each case, which was plenty. Why would he bother to steal the damned things back? I’ve already explained why he can’t resell them at a profit.” His head came down to rest in his palms again.
“How about another cup of coffee?” Shayne asked anxiously. He stood up and went toward the kitchenette. “I’ll be right back.”
Shayne returned with a cup in his hand and urged Randolph to drink it, holding it to his mouth and letting him sip until it was cool enough to drink. Randolph caught the cup in shaky hands and said, “Thanks. I’ll take over.”
Shayne reseated himself and said, “Getting back to the rubies, suppose the purchaser discovered that he’d been gypped. So, he pretends to have them stolen, and then collects the full insurance.”
“It’s stretching coincidence pretty far to think a purchaser would immediately become aware they were synthetic after buying them. If he did, the natural thing would be to accuse Voorland of fraud and demand restitution. And it’s difficult to believe the Kendrick robbery in New Orleans was faked. Mrs. Kendrick was murdered. God knows how you think Dustin could have discovered the rubies were fakes when they’d been in his possession only a few hours. If he arranged the robbery, he certainly went to great lengths to make it look like a real job.”
After a moment of silence, Shayne said, “Looks like you’ve knocked the props from under my synthetic theory. It’s funny how many coincidences pop up in these cases,” he went on casually. “After all the ones you mentioned last night, Mrs. Dustin adds another one by getting herself murdered just as Mrs. Kendrick was.”
Earl Randolph drank the last of the coffee and set the cup down. He stared at Shayne with dazed eyes, then exclaimed, “Mrs. Dustin murdered? When? How?”
“I think you know as much about it as I do. Maybe a lot more,” said Shayne coldly.
“I don’t. I swear I don’t. I didn’t have the radio on last night. I haven’t seen a newspaper. I passed out soon after you left here this morning. In the name of God, Mike, tell me what happened to her.”
“She got herself bopped over the head by someone who was afraid she knew too much for his own safety.”
“Don’t look at me like that,” Randolph panted. “I didn’t do it.”
“Didn’t you?”
Randolph ran his tongue around his dry lips and laughed nervously. “Damned if I didn’t think you were serious for a moment. I’m in no shape for kidding.”
“I’m not,” said Shayne harshly, “kidding.”
The nervous smile slowly faded from Randolph’s face. He sat up a little straighter and said in a strained
