in the conversation you clubbed him, pulled down his pants and injected him with enough pure alcohol so the medical examiner would be sure to get a drunk reading, enough to keep Maslow snoring until it was time for the next step, the pillow over the face and the fire. You poured whiskey on him and put him back in the closet. Of course you knew a dead senator would get a good going over from the M.E., so you burned a hole through his pants with a cigarette and destroyed the needle mark.”
The medical examiner said uncertainly, “If we had the body-”
“It’s wild!” Anne said with a high laugh. “You don’t have the body, do you?”
“That’s what made me think of Boots,” Shayne said. “It’s as close as anybody can come to a sure thing. If Maslow had picked up on Sam and Lib, they would have had reason to kill him. But Sam isn’t the kind of gambler who rigs the wheel or buys out all the jockeys in a race. He’s satisfied to go with the percentage.”
“Thanks,” Sam said dryly.
“Boots contributed one thing-he shot out the kerosene lamp and started the fire. I think Anne did everything else.” He looked at the doctor. “How would a pillow suffocation fit your diagnosis?”
“It would have the same effect on the lungs, precisely. Mr. Shayne, would you mind coming out to the lobby and explaining to the TV people-”
“In a minute.”
“Mike, one thing,” Rourke put in. “Who burned the funeral home? Boots was busy closing the hotel deal, if I’m figuring the timing right-”
“Luccio did that,” Shayne said, grinning at the squat gambler. “Things looked terrible for him at that point. He tried intimidating Judge Kendrick and somebody shot at him from the judge’s office. If the body got an early cremation, people would be suspicious about Kendrick’s hurried trip down to Tallahassee in the middle of the night to talk to the doctors.”
“You can’t pin that on me, Shayne,” Luccio said.
“That’s somebody else’s job. But I want to talk to you later, Al, so don’t disappear. Now we come to our other murder. Maslow kept a separate office for his undercover business. Boots needed that arrest-sheet. It took time to collect the necessary safe-blowing equipment and to force Sam to sell him the Regency. He’d just blown the safe when Grover Kendrick walked in. Grover, too, had a paper he needed, the proof of that initial payoff from Noonan. All at once there were too many people in that gynecologist’s office, and Boots was the one with the gun.”
Gregory’s slump had become more pronounced. His head was close to the table, his face tipped so he wouldn’t have to look at anybody. Shayne’s tone sharpened.
“That old vice arrest in St. Albans was bad enough-but hell, seventeen-year-old kids are entitled to one mistake. There must be people in St. Pete who look up to Gregory. Young fellows coming along who need a model, somebody they can respect. That Maslow thing was a little too fruity, Boots. Your fans won’t understand it. Anne did most of it-a girl. You were outside, in reserve. A little chicken? A bit on the cautious side? Yeah, I’m afraid so.”
The lawyer stirred. “Mr. Gregory, I suggest we-”
“You heard people laughing a minute ago, Boots,” Shayne said. “But wait till the news gets around about how Lib and Sam stuck you with the Regency. That’s too good a story to keep corked. It’s funny. How many times did she let you get in bed with her, about three? How you fell for it! That’s a quarter of a million dollars a screw. You actually thought you were going to move in on Sam Rapp. It couldn’t have worked, Boots. Sam is a man.”
Gregory raised his head slowly. “I killed him.”
“Did you, Boots? I doubt it. It isn’t in character.”
“I shot him. I let him pull out his gun first, and then I spattered his brains on the wall.”
Shayne shook his head. “You’re a born patsy. A born mark. You’re the big joke of the year.”
“The son of a bitch was crowding me. I threw the gun away, or I would have killed you too when you walked up the road.”
“Boots, you’re crazy!” Anne said. “Crazy, crazy! Who cares how they laugh at you if you’re in the clear?”
She finished with a small laugh herself, and it brought Boots to his feet yelling, “I shot the bastard! Do you hear me? What’s so funny about that?”
He went for the girl. Shayne let the regular police handle it.
After Gregory had been removed, still shouting, Shayne said to the state attorney, “He had his own lawyer with him. God knows he had enough warnings. Do you think you can use it?”
“I sure as hell intend to try. Is that all, Mike?”
“I still have a few odds and ends, but not for public consumption.”
The press was called in, and the state attorney repeated Shayne’s story. Rourke phoned his paper. Shayne listened, supplying the facts he still needed. After hanging up, Rourke gave his friend a searching look.
“It’s all very tidy, Mike, but a couple of parts of that I don’t buy.”
“It’s the best I could do. Take your drink to a table, Tim. I want to talk to Jackie.”
“For one thing,” Rourke said, “with this much illegal money floating around, how come you didn’t get your hands on any of it? That never happened to you before, to my knowledge. Are you sick?”
“I’m getting a fee.”
“If you’re talking about the fifty bucks the paper owes you-”
“I’m getting fifteen thousand,” Shayne said impatiently. “Sam and Lib put it up so a trooper could arrest me for bribing Grover. I’ve got a receipt for that, and I intend to collect it.”
Rourke gave a relieved laugh. “That’s one thing explained.”
He joined the other reporters listening to the state attorney. Jackie was sitting alone with a dead cup of coffee. Shayne beckoned to her.
She slid onto the next stool. “I suppose you’re sore.”
“I’m a little sore.”
“I didn’t know about Luccio, Mike. I really didn’t. He came to see me when he heard Maslow was dead. He told me to get you out of town so he could try his own methods. He said you’d never believe I was so dumb I didn’t know where the money was really coming from. I thought we were running on contributions. And he was right, wasn’t he? You don’t believe it.”
“So you told the highway cops they could find me talking to Sam at the Skyline Motel.”
“Yes. And I intercepted Al and warned him to stay away from Sam, that that was a trap. Mike, I didn’t want you to find out about Luccio!”
“Everybody’s been trying to sidetrack me. Gregory hijacked me. Sam and Lib had me arrested. Kendrick put me in a cell for a few hours.”
“I know,” she said. “I was stupid and wrong. I suppose this means I won’t be seeing much of you from now on.”
“That’s one of the things it means. How much is Luccio paying you?”
“Nothing. Mike, I didn’t know about him!”
Shayne thought for a moment, then looked around. Luccio was waiting to be noticed. He came over anxiously.
“Mike, listen, if there’s any further beef can’t we square it one-on-one, without bringing in the authorities?”
“How much were you paying Maslow?”
“As you said, Mike, I paid him with that arrest-sheet on Gregory. I mean, I’m not in the blackmail business, it’s dynamite, I don’t like to fool with it.”
Shayne clinked the bag of roulette counters. “How much is this worth?”
“Ten thousand, Mike, but that was definitely to be paid in the future.”
Shayne tossed the bag to Jackie. “Redeem them for her. And don’t slam the cashier’s window when you see her coming.”
He reached carefully into a bulky manila envelope and pulled out the handset of a public phone, wrapped in paper towels. One of the towels was loose, and the glossy surface of the phone showed a thumbprint.
“You remember the phone you used when you called the judge. If you’ll think back, you’ll recall that when you left the booth you weren’t thinking about fingerprints. You threatened a public official, damaged some property and
