So Lush, So Deadly

“Tell me, Sally. It’s late. I’ve got to see some people.”

“I’ll trade. I’ll give you my information if you-” She whispered something in his ear. “Please, Mike. It won’t take long.”

Shayne rolled off the mattress. “If I have to look for myself-”

She clutched him. “Mike, why do you have to be such a jerk? I thought men were naturally polygamous. You really won’t?”

“That’s right. I really won’t.”

“I suppose you think I’m too young for you.”

“Correct.”

“It’s quite a blow to my pride. I can’t even seduce a man who’s wearing only a towel.” She was still holding him so closely that he could feel her breasts rise against him whenever she drew a breath. “Mike, about a half hour after you left somebody else swam up to the Nefertiti and came up a rope ladder. A man in bathing trunks. His head came sliding along in the water and I almost said something, I was so sure it was you.”

“Did you get a look at him?”

“Just for a tiny second, when he came over the rail. He had a beard.”

“What kind of beard, Sally? It’s important.”

Her lingers touched his face. She sketched a chin-and-mouth beard like the one Henry De Rham had been wearing when Shayne saw him.

“Sort of curly. He listened, and then he kind of sneaked inside. I don’t know how long he stayed. I wanted to keep awake but I couldn’t seem to. And I was below for a while when Mother and Dad came home.”

“Everything stayed quiet over there? No fireworks?”

“Like a tomb.”

While he thought about it she slipped away and went for his clothes. He heard a creak as she raised the top of a locker, and then it slipped out of her hands and slammed hard. They froze. When nothing happened she opened the locker again and brought him his clothes.

“Sorry about that, Mike. I don’t think I woke up anybody.”

The towel dropped to the deck. She handed him his pants, and at that moment the cabin door burst open and a powerful three-cell flashlight came on and caught Shayne in its beam. It couldn’t have happened at a worse time.

“I thought I heard something, goddamn it!” a voice bawled.

“Dad, turn out that light,” Sally said. “Turn it out this minute. You’re embarrassing him.”

Sally’s father swung the flashlight at her. She proved to be wearing a thin nightgown that came down to mid-thigh. “At least one of you’s not naked!” he shouted.

She glanced at Shayne and giggled. “Dad, you’re being very square, as usual.”

He was wearing pajama bottoms. His graying hair stood up like the comb of a rooster. He was short, with a chest like a keg.

“And who the hell are you?” He turned the light back on Shayne, who was trying to get his pants on. This was hard to do because one of the legs was inside out. “Goddamn it, what’s been going on out here, what have you been doing with my daughter?”

He walked up to Shayne, who was still struggling with his pants, and batted him hard on the side of the head with the flashlight. His daughter, laughing and sobbing, caught his arm. An older woman loomed up behind her, her hair in rollers. Shayne tried to hold off the furious little man for long enough to get the second pant leg turned right side out, and he caught two more hard blows. As the flashlight whirled, its beam illuminated Shayne and the mother screamed.

“Oh, mother, please shut up!” Sally cried. “Help me get Dad calmed down and we’ll explain-”

Lights on other boats were coming on, and Shayne heard someone shout for the watchman. Finally there was nothing to do but let go of his pants and quiet Sally’s father with a crisp right to the point of the jaw. Sally gasped.

“Did you have to do that, Mike?” she demanded.

“I didn’t hear any better suggestions from you.”

The flashlight bounced across the deck and went out. Someone on the Nefertiti turned on a powerful battery lantern. Shayne at last succeeded in getting into his pants and closed the zipper. Sally’s father was allowing himself to be held by his wife.

“Brady?” he called. “I’m going to need some help over here. Call the police. This man was committing a sexual-”

“He wasn’t doing anything of the kind!” Sally cried. “He refused to. I mean-”

“Mike Shayne,” Brady’s voice drawled, amused.

“You know him?” Sally’s father said.

“Of course. He’s working for Mrs. De Rham. If you can talk your way out of this, Mike, come aboard and I’ll give you a drink.”

Shayne grunted and went on buttoning his shirt.

“You won’t talk your way out of this in a hurry,” Sally’s father said. “When I turned on the flashlight, Mother, he was standing there absolutely nude.”

“I saw him.”

“It was dark before you turned on the light, wasn’t it?” Sally said, trying to sound reasonable. “He was getting dressed.”

“And what was he doing before? I don’t care who you are, friend, we’ll see what kind of explanation you can give a judge. Trespassing, attempted rape of an eighteen-year-old girl-Will somebody please go to a phone and call the police?”

“You do, Dad, and I’ll never speak to you again,” Sally warned. She raised her voice. “Go back to sleep, everybody. It’s a silly misunderstanding. Mother, you persuade Dad to use some common sense.”

“It certainly won’t do any harm to see what they have to say,” her mother said. “He looks like a nice man and perhaps Sally-”

“A nice man!” the father exclaimed. “He looks like a thug, if you ask me.”

“Dad, honestly, he’s on a case-”

Shayne finished dressing and let the two women argue and threaten until finally the father said grudgingly that he was willing to listen to Shayne’s explanation.

“But it better be good!”

CHAPTER 13

Paul Brady, in white Bermuda shorts, was waiting in the salon of the Nefertiti. He was drinking scotch, neat, in a highball glass.

“I’m told you like to drink cognac, so I bought a bottle of Hennessey’s. Is that all right?”

“It’s perfect,” Shayne said gratefully.

“Do you mind telling me what that commotion was all about?”

“Please. I’ve been talking steadily for fifteen minutes, and I still don’t think he believes me. I don’t want to have to go through it again.”

Brady poured cognac into a snifter and handed it to Shayne. “Sally’s a pretty girl,” he said with a straight face. “Of course she’s still a bit young.”

“Damn it, Brady, we’ve got other things to talk about.”

“True,” Brady said judiciously. “I take it you found Henry.”

“Right where you said I’d find him.”

“And Dotty was so sure he’d go back to New York! I wish I’d put some money on it. Not that she ever pays off when she loses.”

“I’d like to talk to her.”