Never Kill a Client

and left you while they went back to wait for O’Keefe to come to them.”

“What went wrong?” Shayne asked curiously. “Why did they have to kill him?”

“No one seems to know, exactly. I guess no one ever will know, now. According to their confession, he suddenly jumped up and declared he didn’t believe the man sitting behind your desk was actually Michael Shayne. And he started out of the office. The pseudo Mike Shayne shouted out to the gal at Lucy’s desk, ‘Stop him. Don’t let him get away.’ And so she… stopped him. They disagree about which one actually stuck the spindle in his heart,” Rourke went on, “but I guess it doesn’t matter too much. All four of them are going to draw good long prison terms.”

He patted the notes in his hand and thrust the wad of paper in his pocket. “God bless you, my children. I must be off to compose some headlines.” He smiled benignly and hurried out.

Lucy sat very still beside her employer while he cheerfully savored the contents of his glass. Then she said in a small voice, “Michael?”

“What is it, Angel?”

“You did… find them, didn’t you?”

“Why, sure.” He set his glass down, reached in his pocket and withdrew a small handful of blue nylon which he shook out in front of her eyes.

“I couldn’t think what else to do,” she explained swiftly and frantically. “They were excited and frightened when they came there, and I gathered something dreadful had happened. They said they were going to take me away and all I could think of was how I could leave something behind as a signal to you that I’d been there. I was still groggy from the drug at lunch, but somehow I knew you’d trace me that far… and wonder.

“So I told them I had to go to the bathroom before we left, and when I got in there with the door closed I had only a moment to think what I could do. And… well… what else can a girl leave behind that no one can see is missing? I mean…” Her cheeks flamed scarlet under his amused gaze.

“You’ve got to come out wearing all your outer clothes. Shoes, stockings, dress, or they’d notice.”

Shayne squeezed her hand and said, “It was a terrific inspiration, Angel. You knew I’d recognize them at first glance. But there’s one thing I don’t get. By what miracle of coincidence did you have that particular pair on yesterday? When I bought them for you on Valentine’s Day, you were half-way sore and swore you’d never wear them. What on earth possessed you to wear them yesterday?”

She hung her head and sighed, and confessed, “Now you’ve caught me.”

“How have I caught you?”

“After you gave them to me, I loved them and thought they were the cutest things I’d ever seen. I went down to the same store the next day and bought six more pairs… exactly the same. I’ve been wearing them ever since.” Shayne began laughing, and he couldn’t stop. After a time Lucy joined him.