Six Seconds to Kill

and gathered up the gun.

“I mean when it comes to chopping down doors-”

Shayne came to one knee and moved his head. It stayed together. A moment later he found that he could stand.

“You hold the gun,” the boy said. “I’ll go get the captain.”

Shayne grunted and started for the doorway. The youth backed into the corridor ahead of him, holding out the gun butt-first.

“Take it. Here. I sure as hell don’t want it.”

Shayne lurched toward the nearest stairway, keeping from falling by running a hand along the wall. The ship appeared to be heeling violently. On the first step he failed to raise his foot high enough, and fell forward on his hands.

The boy was dancing beside him, trying to get him to take the gun. “You mean this isn’t a bust? You aren’t going to bust those guys?”

“Give me a hand.”

“I certainly will not! I thought you were FBI, at the least. I held a gun on those characters, and now I’ve got to ship with them?”

Shayne forced himself up the steps. He made it halfway, with the help of the banister. There he stopped again. An endless stretch of steps rose ahead. The ship swung gently.

The boy grabbed his arm. “I’ll help, if nobody sees me. But I can’t do it all. Come on.”

He tugged at Shayne. The Mozambique reared. When it came back down Shayne took advantage of the momentum and let it carry him up the stairs. The boy pushed, and when the momentum faded he ran ahead and pulled. They reeled out on deck.

“For the last time, will you take this or won’t you?” the boy said, holding out the gun.

“Hold the gangway.”

“Jesus! I just wish somebody would tell me what this is all about!”

He ran ahead. The band was playing with real desperation, it seemed to Shayne. Streamers flew. A woman in a clown’s hat tried to embrace him, and she got him moving. He picked up an empty champagne bottle. Waving this, he headed toward the gangway. He heard laughter around him, ironic applause. People cleared out of his way.

“Really smashed,” somebody said. “Disgusting.”

“No, why? He’s feeling no pain.”

That was hardly true. Ahead, the youth gestured with the gun. Two seamen waited at the head of the gangway. Shayne held the bottle over the side and dropped it in the bay. His heel caught, and he went down much too fast, ending on the dock with a jolt. The passengers along the rail waved.

The gangplank was drawn in and the ship’s horn hooted. There was a flicker of white, and Adele Galvez threw her arms around him.

“I was calling the Coast Guard. You’re hurt!”

“Too much free champagne.”

Leaning on her heavily, he headed for a wooden crate. She continued to hold him until she was sure he could sit by himself.

“I got you into something, didn’t I? God, I’m sorry. What should I do now, get the car?”

“Yeah.”

He fished out the keys.

“Are you sure you’ll be all right, Mike? Maybe I ought to-”

“Get the car.”

While she was gone he watched the Mozambique pull slowly out into the Cut. The passengers along the rail went on waving and throwing streamers. The band still seemed slightly frantic.

Adele returned. She looked down at him anxiously, and helped him stand. The pain had receded slightly. He probably could have walked by himself, but she insisted that he lean on her. He let her drive.

She suggested in a small voice that he could use a doctor. He didn’t reply, and called the turns. Presently they were drawing up in front of his apartment hotel on the north bank of the Miami River.

The day-clerk rushed out when he saw Shayne. Shayne waved him away.

“I’ve already got one person looking after me. That’s enough.”

Upstairs, Adele unlocked the door for him. He was going to let her look at his head in a moment, and then he needed a change of clothes-he was soaked with foam. First he poured himself a stiff cognac. The neck of the bottle knocked against the glass.

“Adele? Cognac?”

She wasn’t sure. She splashed a little into a glass, tried it and coughed, then added ice and considerable soda. Shayne downed half his drink.

“I need a little maintenance. Before we get to work, tell me how you figure that skirmish on the boat. What was the point?”

“I honestly don’t know! Except I think you were the one they wanted, not me. It’s just as mysterious as that business with the wheels. How did they know? When I asked about Raphael it was as though I’d given some kind of signal-he got all peculiar and gave you that suspicious look. When I went back into the crew quarters they came after me.” She tasted the drink again and said miserably, “I did just what they wanted me to. I shouldn’t have tried to fight, or made any noise.”

“Had you ever seen either of them before?”

“Not as far as I know. I did get an impression that there was something-military about them. All those groups like Vega’s used to pretend they were soldiers. I thought they’d outgrown it.”

Shayne set down his empty glass and went into the bedroom. He stripped off his soggy clothes. Leaving them where they fell, he put on a beach coat. He got out some first-aid equipment and called Adele.

“I can’t see what I’m doing. Cut off some of the hair and slap on a piece of tape. I’ll get some professional repairs when I have time.”

“I’m not much of a nurse,” she said doubtfully.

Shayne pulled a straight chair into the bathroom and sat down astride. She made one or two snips with the scissors, standing behind him. Then her breath came out in a long sigh, and the scissors and the bottle of disinfectant fell from her fingers. She slipped quietly to the floor.

Shayne regarded her with the trace of a smile. He checked the time. It was a few minutes after five.

He picked her up and placed her on the bed. He poured more cognac. Sitting on the edge of the bed, he slipped an arm under her shoulders and raised her head. He held the glass to her lips and let her breathe the fumes. When her eyes opened he tilted the glass. She sputtered helplessly, but swallowed a mouthful.

She looked around in alarm, and pressed her face to his bare chest. He continued to hold her loosely.

“That’s the first time I ever fainted in my life.”

Her lips moved against him. For an instant his hold tightened. Then she shifted in his arms, and looked at him seriously.

“I was so scared. I can’t begin to tell you. The way they pounced on me. I was sure they were going to kill me. Then that ax came through the door! That fire extinguisher. You’re a-pretty impressive person.” She raised her head and kissed him gently. “And here we are. I have more clothes on than you do. I don’t think that’s right.”

He laughed, and she insisted, “Why don’t we? I know you wouldn’t ordinarily, because why should you pay any attention to me? But I did a sort of stupid thing and you rescued me, and you’re still woozy from that cut on the head, so you aren’t as iron-willed as usual-”

She ran her hands inside his robe. “Make love to me! Or I’ll have hysterics, and you don’t want that, do you? Hold me. Do. Do, please.”

Twisting, she pulled a zipper and her blouse opened. He let her kiss him again, and then, very slowly, he began to disengage.

She followed him urgently. “Mike, you can’t go yet. You have to recuperate. It won’t commit you to anything. Then we can really trust each other. Will you?”

There were two possible answers, and there was something to be said for them both. She was kissing him again, and there was no doubt, Shayne thought, that she was a determined girl.