The Violent World of Michael Shayne

She colored slightly. Without looking at Shayne she said quietly, “They’re trying to get a photograph of the two of them together in bed, so they can blackmail him with it.”

“Who are they?” Shayne said.

“There’s no mystery about that. The man who’s behind it is named Sam Toby. I don’t know how famous he is outside Washington, but he’s famous enough there.”

“Sam Toby?” Shayne scratched the reddish stubble on his chin. “Isn’t he some kind of lobbyist?”

“On a high level. He’s supposed to know where all the bodies in Washington are buried. He swung that big airplane contract last year-maybe you read about it.”

“Sure,” Shayne said. “That’s what I was trying to think of. I remember there was a big stink at the time. I didn’t bother with the details.”

“It was actually quite simple. Six or seven companies were after the contract, but it boiled down to two. A billion dollars is going to be spent on that airplane, and even in Washington that’s a lot of money. Sam Toby was pulling the strings for the underdog, and the underdog won. Daddy’s subcommittee is trying to find out how he worked it.”

“Tell me something about the woman.”

“Her name’s Margaret Smith. Naturally she calls herself Maggie. She’s either a widow or divorced, there’s no Mr. Smith that anybody knows about. She runs a little theatre, the kind that shows those strange offbeat plays about how hopeless life is. Well, you know what my father is like. Would you believe he could fall for a vulgar woman with a tumbled shock of artificial red hair, a bosom like the prow of the Queen Mary, a loud raucous laugh, powerful perfume, too much jewelry? And I’m only hitting a few of the high spots.”

Anger had improved her somewhat frosty good looks, Shayne thought, but the most striking thing about this description was that it was the exact opposite of Trina Hitchcock herself. In spite of the stiff offshore breeze, her blonde hair stayed under control. Her voice was carefully modulated, with an accent that indicated an expensive New England education. There was a faint network of worry-lines around her eyes. Shayne doubted if she laughed much, and certainly she wouldn’t ever be guilty of anything approaching a raucous laugh. He couldn’t smell any perfume, she wore no jewelry except a single ring, and in addition to all this, she didn’t have much of a bosom.

She seemed to guess what he was thinking. “I know I wouldn’t feel so strongly if I wasn’t his daughter. But the thought of my father having anything to do with that coarse woman makes me squirm. The first minute I set eyes on her I said to myself, ‘So she thinks she’s going to be the second Mrs. Emory Hitchcock, does she? Well, maybe. But if it happens, and I don’t think it will, she’ll know she’s been in a fight.’ And at the same time, you see, I felt a bit sheepish, because after all it’s my father’s own business whom he marries. My feelings don’t count. Now that I know what they’re up to I’ve stopped having qualms. Toby wants to get a weapon to make my father call off these hearings.”

“Can he do that?”

“The whole subcommittee would have to agree, but he’s been chairman for years and they usually do what he thinks is best.”

“What makes you so sure she’s working for Toby?”

“I did some detective work, Mr. Shayne. The whole thing seemed phoney to me from the word go. Daddy hasn’t looked at another woman since Mother died. Naturally he’s asked out a lot. There’s a man-shortage in Washington, and he’s never been a recluse. Heavens, far from it. But he hasn’t paid attention to anybody in a romantic way. I live in the same house-I know. Then all of a sudden this. As soon as I got over being revolted, it struck me that there might be more to Maggie Smith than met the eye, even though what met the eye wasn’t at all subtle. They met at a dinner before some kind of money-raising affair for her so-called theatre. I made a point of asking the hostess, very casually, you understand, how she happened to invite my father, as I’m sure he’d never set foot in that theatre, if he knew it existed. It turned out that Sam Toby had helped her make up the guest list.”

Shayne started to speak. She said quickly, “I know that’s not much by itself, but wait. They put her next to him at dinner and he never had a chance. The poor darling hasn’t had much experience with that type of woman. She sewed him up fast: They’ve been seeing each other four or five times a week, and it’s common knowledge now that he will not accept a dinner invitation unless she’s one of the guests. It’s even been in the papers, in a guarded way. I don’t know if they’ve been sleeping together. He’s behaving like a sentimental teen-ager, and at his age I don’t think the symptoms would be that severe unless there was more to it than holding hands.”

She was looking straight ahead at the white-flecked water running beside the boat. “I think I need another drink of that brandy. This is very-distasteful. But I want to be sure you understand the situation.”

Shayne handed her the uncorked bottle. She was more careful with this mouthful, and much of it stayed down.

“I’m beginning to understand it,” he said. “I don’t understand why you think you need me.”

“I need you desperately.” She put her hand on his arm. “I’ve done everything wrong. I admit I didn’t give her any benefit of the doubt at first-I was purely and simply appalled, and I let my feelings show. I said a few things to Daddy I probably should have kept to myself. We’re still on speaking terms, but barely, and not on that particular subject. He’s got some crazy idea that I’m jealous, which is absurd. If he wants to marry again, there’s no reason he shouldn’t, so long as the relationship has some meaning and isn’t purely physical and temporary. But when a well-known lobbyist and fixer, under investigation by a senatorial subcommittee, sets up a blackmail situation involving the subcommittee chairman-well, he didn’t let me finish. He hit the ceiling. He said he wouldn’t stand for any interference in his private affairs. Interference! After all those years in Washington, he’s amazingly naive. He couldn’t see anything suspicious about that dinner invitation. I’m stymied, just when I’m on the verge of getting some concrete evidence.”

“Concrete evidence of what?”

“Of the Smith woman’s connection with Toby. She’s carried out similar assignments for him before, it seems. This comes from an investigator who used to work for Daddy’s subcommittee, a not very pleasant character named Ronald Bixler, and he’s going to want money before he supplies any details. And then what? Daddy won’t listen to one single word from me against that woman.”

“Then you’d better handle it from the other end,” Shayne said, thinking. “Show the woman your evidence and tell her to lay off your father unless she wants to get herself in some real trouble.”

“I’d be terrified! And trust me to mess it up somehow. If Daddy ever found out-and she’d make sure he found out-he’d always hold it against me. Nobody likes to have it proved that they’ve been behaving like an idiotic child. If it could only be managed so he wouldn’t know-but I couldn’t do it, I’m too involved.”

“There must be somebody in Washington who can handle it for you.”

She shook her head quickly. “That’s the point. There isn’t anybody I could trust. This is loaded with political dynamite. I couldn’t give any local person that kind of hold over Daddy. How could I be sure they wouldn’t betray us to Toby? Half the private detectives in Washington have done work for him at one time or another. No, it has to be somebody from out of town. And there’s another factor. If anything does go wrong and you have to talk to Daddy about it-it won’t, but if it does-I know you can make him listen to reason. He has a high opinion of you.”

“I doubt if he even remembers me.”

“You’re wrong! He knows about all your big cases. And there isn’t time to get anybody else. It has to be done today.”

Shayne gave a half-grin. “Miss Hitchcock, I admire your father and the fact is that I owe him a favor. But I’m going to cork off forty-five minutes from now and you couldn’t wake me up with a brass band. If you can wait till tomorrow, maybe. Otherwise-”

“Mr. Shayne! I know this is unfair, but it’s so important. You can sleep on the plane. There’s a two o’clock jet, and I think we can make it. I can phone Bixler from here and have him meet you at the airport. That conversation shouldn’t take more than ten minutes. Then Maggie Smith, maybe half an hour. After that you can go to a hotel and sleep as long as you like. I’ll pay you a thousand dollars.”

“Not that I’m going to do it,” Shayne said, “but what makes it so urgent?”

“Because tonight is when it’s going to happen! Sam Toby has been subpoenaed to appear at the hearing tomorrow, so doesn’t it stand to reason that tonight’s their deadline? Daddy has a date with her, needless to say. He’s picking her up at the theatre and taking her to supper at a fancy restaurant outside of Pine Grove. I heard him make the reservations. And that happens to be not just a restaurant but a motel.” She hammered her knee with her fist, and there were tears in her eyes. “You know how these things are worked. Do I have to draw you a