watched him falter and put his hand to his forehead, as though suddenly dizzy. He crossed the sidewalk to the Hillman and got in.
“This will be easy,” he said. “There is one man only, for the desk, the switchboard, the elevator. Look in the window. When he goes up in the elevator or must answer the phone, you will simply walk in to the stairs. Good luck.”
Shayne stayed where he was. “What if the phone doesn’t ring or if nobody wants the elevator?”
“My men will be here presently. I will send one to telephone. The room is on the fifth floor, five forty-two. From the stairs go to the first turning in the corridor.”
Shayne unlatched the door. “How much time do I have? You told the husband half an hour. If I get hung up somewhere, I don’t want you sitting down here counting the minutes until you send your army in after me.”
Alvarez said, “Take the time you need. I have a man to entertain Slater until we arrive, and I will tell him what to say if Slater calls. I agree that you must be quiet and careful.”
“And what do I do if I can get her to come with me? No, don’t tell me. I ring for the elevator. When it doesn’t show up right away, I get impatient and drag her down the stairs. That way the desk clerk won’t see me.”
“Excellent.”
Shayne left the Hillman and went up to the front steps. There was a broad porch overlooking the bay. Instead of entering the lobby he went along the porch, past a line of empty rocking chairs, until he came to a window through which he could look into the lobby. No one was behind the desk. Moving to the next window, Shayne saw the switchboard, but it was unattended. He located the elevator. The door was closed, and an arrow above was moving slowly around a semi-circle. There was a loud, ominous clanking.
He returned to the front door and entered the lobby. The arrow had stopped at four. Through an archway he looked into the dining room, with tables set for breakfast. He reached the bottom of the stairs as the clanking resumed and the elevator started down.
He took the steps two at a rime. The elevator, descending slowly and painfully, passed him between the second and the third floor. He continued to five, found Room 542 without trouble, and knocked.
The transom was open and light was on in the room. When there was no answer, Shayne knocked again.
“Mrs. Slater?” he said cautiously.
He heard a faint noise, and saw the doorknob beginning to turn slowly. Then the door came violently open. Martha Slater was standing in the doorway, a gun in her hand.
7
“Come in,” she said.
Her voice was small but determined. The gun was a little. 25 automatic. She held it firmly. Michael Shayne came into the room and she kicked the door shut behind him. She was wearing a tightly-belted blue dressing gown. Her blonde hair was brushed out loosely and fell almost to her shoulders. There were lines and shadows on her face that hadn’t been there when Shayne last saw her, but she was still, at thirty, beautiful, intelligent, self-possessed. Her eyes were gray and steady.
“Don’t you know who I am?” he said.
“Stay where you are. Don’t move.”
She backed across the room, feeling for the phone. Her fingers touched the edge of the bedside table and she knocked over a small bottle of sleeping pills. She lifted the phone.
Then she said suddenly, “Michael Shayne?”
She looked at him in horror. An instant later she dropped the little gun as though it had bitten her. “Michael! I almost-” She laughed hysterically and put her face in both hands.
He reached her in two strides and caught her in his arms. She pressed her face fiercely against his chest. “Michael. Michael. What are you doing here?” Then she pulled away from him, the look of horror still in her eyes, and said faintly, “Did you come after Paul?”
“Take it easy,” Shayne said in his gentlest tone. He put the phone back in its place. “It’s going to work out. Come over here and sit down.”
He led her to the bed and arranged the pillows. After she was settled he sat down beside her, holding her hands. They were cold and trembling.
“I just made some cocoa,” she said abstractedly, looking toward the little bedside table, which was badly marked with cigarette burns. “We aren’t supposed to cook, but I have an electric plate. No, I remember,” she said, seeming hardly aware of what she was saying, “you’d like some cognac. I’m sorry I can’t-”
He stopped her. “We don’t have too much time. When I knocked at the door, who did you think it was?”
She burst into tears. “Michael, we’ve got ourselves into such a mess! What on earth am I going to do?”
“We’ll think of something.”
He grinned at her encouragingly and looked around. The bureau had a caster missing, and tipped drunkenly. The rug was threadbare. It was worse than he expected, and he hated to see Martha living like this. He moved a box of Kleenex where she could reach it.
“I’m-I’m sorry, Michael. It’s just-seeing you like this, after so many years-”
Taking her by the shoulders, he gave her a quick shake. “Stop it. I won’t tell you how glad I am to see you, because we don’t have time. I know it’s serious. You and Paul are in trouble, and if you want me to help you you’ve got to tell me a few things. What about the gun?”
She blew her nose and said faintly, “I don’t know how to begin. I’ve been expecting something to happen for months. I thought-”
She couldn’t go on, and Shayne said, “You thought it had something to do with the smuggling?”
Her eyes widened. “Of course. You heard he’d been arrested, and you didn’t like the idea of an old friend of yours being married to a criminal. I don’t like it either. But he’s stopped, Michael! You don’t have to worry about us. He won’t do anything like that again.”
“It’s a little more complicated than that,” he said. “I heard about it from the customs agent-in-charge in Miami, Jack Malloy. Do you remember him?”
“Of course,” she said quietly. “Another old friend who thinks-”
Her eyes filled, and Shayne said quickly, “Keep talking about it, Martha. It may not seem so bad when it’s out where we can look at it.”
“Michael, don’t you see?” she said desperately. “I knew about it. I’m as much to blame as Paul. Oh, I argued against it, but he could tell I didn’t mean it. He just laughed at me. and went right ahead. I didn’t refuse to take the money he made by it, you notice! Certainly not. That might have convinced him I was serious. I finally laid down the law, gave him a clear-cut set of alternatives, but not until after he’d been caught! I’m so ashamed.”
“How long has it gone on?”
“Oh, Michael, for months and months. A man came to Paul and offered to sell him some cheap perfume for export. He-”
“Was his name Alvarez?”
She drew in her breath in surprise. “Luis Alvarez. Yes. Do you mean Jack Malloy knows about that?”
“Not yet. Go on.”
“Well, Alvarez explained it. What he wanted our firm to handle was bottled as toilet water. Actually it was the concentrated essence of some famous French perfume, worth hundreds and hundreds of dollars an ounce. Paul didn’t tell me about it till it was all over. It was simplicity itself. He consigned the shipment to a dummy company, picked it up and forwarded it to a big perfume company up north. For this trifling service, he was paid fifteen hundred dollars! I was horrified, but apparently not quite horrified enough. Actually, I used to feel irritated by the price my friends paid for imported perfume, and I suppose that smuggling it past the customs didn’t seem like such a terrible crime. Paul put the money in the business, and it just disappeared. Although I’ve suddenly begun to wonder if he could have spent it on-but never mind. Alvarez had another proposition soon afterward. There was never any trouble, and Paul paid less and less attention when I tried to get him to think about what he was doing. Then all of a sudden he was arrested, and it did something horrible to him, Michael. I’ve never seen a man so
