nothing of the emotion which had caused her to double her fist and let the cigarette fall from the holder unnoticed. She asked, “Did Charles mention any one he was particularly afraid of?”
“Letters from clients are privileged communications, Mrs. Roche. The fewer people in Centerville who know what your husband said, the better chance I’ll have to find his murderer.”
“This is all quite beside the point,” Seth Gerald said impatiently. He moved to stand closer to Shayne. Jimmy Roche came over to join them, and they made a semi-circle in front of Elsa’s chair. “Charles’ murderer is behind bars right now,” Gerald went on, “and we don’t want any…”
“Get Mr. Shayne a drink, Seth darling,” she interrupted. She spoke lazily, but an electrical current seemed to flow into the room.
“Cognac,” Jimmy suggested, “that’s what Shayne drinks.” He turned aside and called, “Emma! Bring a bottle of Hennessey and a glass. Straight?”
Shayne said, “Thanks. With ice water on the side, if you have it.”
Jimmy said, “Sure,” and walked toward a door in the rear of the room, opened it, and went out to give further orders.
Shayne went over to a chair and sat down. Seth Gerald moved slowly around the room for a moment, then seated himself across from Shayne. Elsa Roche sat up straight, then leaned forward to clasp her hands around a crossed knee and commanded:
“Come sit beside me, Seth darling, and stop being so tragic. I don’t think the case is any too strong against Brand, and if Mr. Shayne has, or can get enough evidence to help hang him, why shouldn’t we have it?”
“He hasn’t said he has any. What can he have?” asked Gerald crossly. “He just arrived in Centerville.”
Jimmy Roche returned to the room and went over to lean against the radio cabinet. “Those threatening letters,” he interposed, “if Charles sent them to Shayne and if they’re signed by Brand… that ought to be enough to hang him.” He spoke excitedly, but his eyes were clouded and dull.
Elsa flashed a scornful glance at her brother-in-law, then said to Gerald, “I told you to come over and sit beside me, darling.”
He picked up his highball glass from the end table beside his chair and drew an occasional chair close to her. He asked Shayne, “Did Charles send you those letters?”
Shayne said, “What Charles sent or said to me is private.”
The Negro maid came in with a tray holding a bottle of cognac, an empty glass, and another clinking with ice water. She looked inquiringly at her mistress, then placed the tray on the table at Shayne’s right.
Shayne said, “Thanks, Emma,” and she said, “Yessuh,” and went away. He poured three inches in the bottom of the empty glass and said, “This will help to wash the taste of some execrable Portuguese brandy out of my mouth… Centerville’s finest, I understand.” He drank half the contents and settled back with a sigh of pleasure.
“Charles never showed those letters to anybody,” Jimmy said, breaking the silence of a full minute.
Gerald frowned at Jimmy Roche and his smooth voice roughened a trifle when he asked, “Did Charles send you those letters, Shayne?”
Shayne studied the glowing end of a freshly lit cigarette and said, “I understand they’ve been turned over to the police.”
“Only one of them,” Elsa said throatily. “The only one Charles showed me. He was very secretive about the others.” She picked up her cocktail glass and took a long drink.
“Was it signed by Brand?” Shayne asked casually.
“It was not signed at all,” she said shortly, slid down in the chair and toed the footstool over to rest her feet.
“I’ve told Mr. Shayne that even though his services aren’t needed here,” Gerald said silkily, “I feel sure you would want him to keep the check Charles sent him as a retainer… to cover the expense of his trip up here, if nothing else. I’m sure you agree.”
“Of course,” she said listlessly. “If he hasn’t any further evidence against Brand he may as well go back to Miami.”
Shayne tossed off the rest of his drink, set the glass down on the tray, asked, “And if I could prove George Brand is being railroaded for a crime committed by someone else? What then?” He cast a quick glance at the three faces, leaned his head back, and watched a cloud of smoke roll toward the ceiling.
The silence in the room was thicker than the clouds of smoke Shayne puffed toward the gold and rose ceiling. A dead silence. Shayne saw them looking at each other; Gerald’s black eyes disturbed; Elsa’s fringed with her long lashes, green and inscrutable; Jimmy’s naked and dull.
The faint laboring of a car beginning the steep climb below sounded through the quiet, growing louder as it came nearer. Gerald and Elsa bent tensely forward. Jimmy uncrossed his ankles and stood up straight. The car stopped in front of the house, and there were firm, confident footsteps on the concrete steps. The doorbell rang.
Shayne heard Emma’s flat shuffling feet carrying her weighty body through the hall, and turned to get a glimpse of her as she passed the archway leading into the living room. The front door opened.
Shayne poured himself another drink of cognac, drank half of it, chased it with ice water, and waited.
6
The man who came in was short and bulky, bull-necked and swarthy. His feet were small, and he took short steps, but there was aggression in his whole manner and an air of triumphant excitement which he tried decorously to hide by the solemnity of his light brown eyes and a drooping black mustache.
“Mrs. Roche,” he said gravely, and crossed the room with both hands outstretched. “I can’t express my sorrow of your bereavement. Believe me, my dear. Your husband’s death is a great loss to the state of Kentucky and the mining industry. You must try to forget your personal grief and think of their loss. He was a forward-thinking man… the type of new blood we needed. The entire South is mourning his loss tonight.”
Elsa lifted her right hand languidly and said, “Thank you, Mr. Persona,” and he took it gently between his stubby short fingers and fat palm, turning aside to say to Seth Gerald:
“And I want to congratulate you on behalf of AMOK. It’s a wonderful triumph. A smashing victory. I confess I’ve been worried. We’ve watched developments with deep concern, and some of us feared… but that’s beside the point now. The strike is broken. All’s well that ends well, eh?” He was chafing Elsa’s hand between his palms. She drew it away and looked angrily at its redness.
“I’m afraid I don’t quite understand,” said Gerald stiffly.
“Don’t you know?” His tone was incredulous. He drew his stocky body to its full height of five feet six. “Good God, man, haven’t you heard? The strike is broken. The men have just announced they’re going back to work tomorrow. The news was all over town as I drove through.”
Shayne stretched his legs out comfortably and sipped cognac between long drags on his cigarette. His eyes were very bright, his features relaxed, his wide mouth upquirked at the corners.
Mr. Persona turned gracefully on his small feet to address Elsa Roche. He was apparently too absorbed in his own triumph to notice Seth Gerald’s silent consternation. He said, “You will forgive me, Mrs. Roche. What I’m saying can’t possibly lessen your personal grief, but in the years to come it may be a consolation to realize your husband did not die in vain. The repercussions of this fiasco will be felt throughout the country… the whole world. People who have been cold will be warm.
“Besides,” he continued, “think of the lasting effect upon our national economy. There will be international reverberations, I assure you. The miners have been taught a drastic lesson. In the future they’ll think twice before following the arrogant and stupid leadership of a man like George Brand. I consider the victory largely due to your excellent handling of the situation,” he continued, turning on the ball of one foot to face Seth Gerald. “Your appeal to the miners in the local paper was a masterly stroke. It caught them off balance.”
Persona turned again on the ball of his foot. He saw Michael Shayne, and for the first time seemed to realize the presence of a stranger in the room.
Gerald said, “What I did seemed the obvious thing to do.” He saw, then, that Persona had turned and was
