Six Seconds to Kill

It was beginning to seem that she would win.

Ten minutes passed. Then it took them another ten minutes to untangle completely.

“Mike, dear,” she whispered, “how nice that was. You were sweet to do it when you didn’t want to.”

“Where’d you get that idea?”

She smiled. “Possibly from something you said.” She put her forehead briefly against his shoulder, and looked up at him. “It wasn’t too strenuous?”

He rotated his head carefully. “Maybe it’s what I needed.”

“I told you! Darling, let me try again with the scissors. This time I won’t faint.”

“No, let it go. Make us some more drinks while I get dressed.”

He swung off the bed. As he stood up he felt a swirl of vertigo, but it passed at once. Adele, a tidy girl, straightened up the bed before going into the other room.

In the bathroom, working by touch, Shayne disinfected his head wound without starting it bleeding again. He didn’t bother with a bandage. With the help of more cognac, he could function and the wound would have to take care of itself.

Adele had combed her hair and repaired her makeup. She held out a glass.

“When I think that two hours ago you were only a name in the newspapers-”

“It was pleasant,” Shayne said shortly, “but now let’s get back to the main subject. Your uncle said the left-wing groups are preparing some kind of action for tomorrow.”

“Which left-wing groups? That covers a lot of ground.”

He sat down at one end of the big sofa. “Not that I want a lecture, but how many organizations are there, say, to the left of your uncle’s?”

“Only about four dozen.” She turned toward him, bringing up one knee. “Maybe not that many, but lots. It only takes three Latin Americans to make a political party. They keep arguing and splintering. I know there’s been talk that the students from the university are going to show up tomorrow, but it’s Vega’s people I’m worried about. They carry pistols to demonstrations.”

“Have you heard about somebody named Gil Ruiz?”

She looked surprised. “Of course. I thought he was famous. But he’s not here, for heaven’s sake. He’s off fighting in the jungle.” She stopped. “Isn’t he?”

“I don’t know a damn thing about it, as I keep telling people. What’s his main thing right now?”

“That’s easy-he’s organizing the guerrilla movement against Colonel Caldera. It’s still in the early stages. The only guns and ammunition they have is what they’ve been able to capture. But it’s growing. One of these days you may read about it in the Miami News.”

“Apparently Crowther’s got some kind of tie-in with Caldera. What if he was shot or kidnapped in Miami by Ruiz sympathizers? That’s always happening to American ambassadors, but I don’t think it’s ever been done in Florida. Crowther would be a very big fish if they could get him. What kind of political sense would it make?”

She had her fingers to her lips. “It’s such a startling idea! I doubt if-” She stopped to arrange her thoughts. “I don’t say they don’t believe in terrorism, because to a limited extent I suppose they do, depending on whether they expect it to be effective. God knows I’m not an expert either. But who would do the actual-I could name a few people who consider themselves followers of Ruiz, but they’re individuals. If there’s any organized group it’s very far underground.”

The phone rang and Shayne picked it up. It was Tim Rourke, who wanted to know how Shayne was getting along with his Latin Americans.

“All I’ve picked up so far is a mild concussion,” Shayne said. “Where are you, at home?”

Rourke said he was in a bar on Miami Avenue with a girl from the paper, but he was available if needed. Shayne told him to stay where he was.

“Tim, do you know anything about a man named Lorenzo Vega?”

“It rings a very faint bell,” Rourke said after a moment. “A couple of years ago? A little paper army? I think so. He was supposed to be drawing Washington money. That was one of the big cons in those days.”

“Anything else?”

“You’re lucky to get that much. This is a small fish.”

“That’s interesting.”

“Is it? Then you’re easily interested, man.”

When Shayne said nothing Rourke went on, “I see. This is one of those occasions when you want me to go on talking, for obscure reasons of your own. I just heard a couple of dirty limericks. I’ll recite them for you.”

When he finished the limericks, he asked, “Will that be enough? I have an extensive repertoire, as all my friends know.”

“That’s great, Tim, thanks. He may not be much of a problem after all.”

“Glad to be of service, my friend, and I do expect an explanation before Monday morning.”

Shayne put the phone down thoughtfully. He drank the cognac he had just poured and stood up. He waited for the dizziness that comes from a shift of altitude, and when it didn’t hit him he concluded that he was ready to return to action.

“This time I’m going alone, Adele.”

“I can’t argue about that, can I?” she said ruefully. “I could try to track down this Ruiz story. My roommate in college got very Red afterward. I think she’d know.”

“I’ll be in touch with your uncle.” He put his hands on her shoulders. “And be careful.”

“Don’t worry about that.” She pressed herself against him. “Mike, dear, do you think-this will ever happen to us again?”

“The odds are against it.”

“Do you have to be so realistic?”

Vega’s office was well out on 8th Street. Shayne would pass Adele’s house on the way, and she asked him to drop her. As he was about to stoop to get into the Buick, a quick spasm of pain crossed his face. He saved himself from falling by grabbing the door. Adele looked out anxiously.

“Mike, won’t you see a doctor? Get in this side and I’ll drive you.”

“I’m OK.”

He rested a moment at the wheel before driving off. He seemed to be handling the car with his usual skill. Adele said nothing more, and waited till the last possible moment, after he had made the turn onto 8th Street, before taking a.38 automatic out of her bag.

She took off the safety and went all the way over against the opposite door. She pointed the gun at him with both hands.

“Take the next right, Mike. All right?”

CHAPTER 6

Shayne glanced down. “You won’t shoot me, Adele.”

“After that nice sex I certainly don’t want to. Turn right and I won’t.”

He continued nearly to the end of the block, then pulled over into a parking space, cut the motor and swung around to face her.

“This would be a good place to do it. Naturally I hope you’ll decide against it. Your uncle knows you’re with me. The desk clerk at the hotel saw us go out together.”

“Mike, please. Don’t make me.”

“You’re new at this. You can use some advice. There’s plenty of traffic noise. Hold the gun low and pick your moment. Wipe off the fingerprints and drop it on the floor. After you get out, don’t run.”

“Mike, look at me.”

They exchanged a long look. Shayne said slowly, “I actually think you mean it.”

“But God, I’d hate to do it.”

“Does it have to be fatal, or would you settle for putting me in the hospital? Just above the knee would be a good place.”