“Tell us,” Serrano said, his eyes narrowing.
“He was shot with a rifle.” Shayne looked at Paula. “Did you plant a guy on a fishing boat this morning to kill your aunt?”
“No!”
“She’s reasonably O.K., just cut up a little. I think the same guy shot Rubino and took a couple of shots at me. This was out by the farm, if that means anything.”
“I see that this won’t be disposed of in a minute,” Serrano said. “Are you hungry? Will you eat something?”
Shayne nodded and one of the young men went out.
“You must have a pretty good idea what I’m doing in Venezuela.” Shayne said. “I’ve been offered a couple of ways to make money, but my main problem is still Tim Rourke. He’s in on a bad rap. That charge should be simple stupidity. I’ve thought all along that my one chance of getting him out was to find them a replacement. Paula wouldn’t be bad, but she’s not quite big enough. You’d fit, Serrano.” He looked around the room, holding each pair of eyes for a moment before passing on to the next. “But from here I can count at least three guns, and I don’t think I could take you in. So we’ve got to work out a deal. I have a couple of proposals. Is there anything you want to have explained first?”
Serrano said, “Your remark to Paula that we had no actual plan to attack the prison.”
“I don’t know how much fire power you have available. But you didn’t do much when Alvares got the boot and the new guys were taking over, and that would have been a good time to make some noise. I understand you set up a diversion the night of the jailbreak. A bank robbery. How well did you do?”
“Rather well.”
“Yeah. Somebody told me about guerrilla movements once. At first it’s hard to tell the guerrillas from the bandits. You may have an interesting set of long range plans, but meanwhile you steal to stay alive. You wouldn’t risk an armed attack on a prison, just to spring a few people. Look around this barrio. There’s no shortage of people. Your shortage is guns and money. Paula’s aunt still thinks she sold you on the jail-break idea, but she doesn’t understand that you’re still at the bandit stage. How many people did you actually have out there, outside the jail?”
“One. To fire some shots. Does it matter?”
“Damn right it matters. Because if that was the diversion and the bank robbery was the real thing, all you needed was a couple of tear-gas bombs and a little smoke. You didn’t need to kill anybody.”
A woman came in with a platter which she placed in front of Shayne. Paula said, “In your honor, Mr. Shayne, the North American specialty.”
The meal proved to be hot dogs wrapped in corn leaves. Shayne took one, but waited to see what the others would do with theirs. They peeled back the leaves and dipped the hot dogs in a bowl of sauce. Shayne did the same, more cautiously. The sauce was fiery.
“Now can I ask Paula what was really inside those cartons of cigarettes?”
“I wasn’t careful enough,” she said. “Or I was careful in the wrong way.” She broke off to ask Serrano, “Can I say as a positive fact that when I gave my aunt the cartons they were exactly as specified? Tear gas. Smoke. A timing mechanism. A few cigarettes.”
The discussion became general, and Paula continued. “Yes, Mr. Shayne. There were several involved in the manufacture, the putting in packages. We have a small workshop. People are all the time coming and going-if one person made a change, and put in a bomb, the others would know. I gave them to Lenore to give to the wife. When she gave them back I gave them to Tim, who gave them to Larry Howe. At some point in this process the substitution was made. And that is all I can tell you.”
“Who do you think did it?”
“Perhaps Aunt Lenore,” Paula said quietly. “To have a relationship with such a man, I think she must be-how should I say it-a greedy person. I know she was once very poor. But there are other ways than to take money from someone so totally evil. Of course she claimed she was fond of him. But is it likely? Alvares?”
“And you think she killed him because of the money?”
“I don’t know. It sounds logical. To have it all.”
“She says you used to stay with her when you went to school in Miami. Did you ever see any gold bars lying around? Gold bars-that’s a figure of speech. A guy named Felix Frost tells me Alvares shut down his bank accounts a year and a half ago. We don’t know what he did with the cash.”
“Frost,” Serrano said with distaste.
“I wasn’t crazy about him myself,” Shayne said. “But he’s supposed to know what he’s talking about, and when he says the bank accounts were closed, I think that means they were really closed. He’s the one who suggested gold. Whatever it is, it’s illegal, not part of a formal estate, and so it’s more or less up for grabs. And the reason I went to all this trouble was to find out if you’d be interested in taking a shot at it.”
He swallowed the last bite of frankfurter and peeled another. After a moment’s silence several voices spoke at once.
Shayne stopped them. “Here’s the deal. However careful you are, you have to take a certain amount of chances to rob a bank. This could generate a lot more loot, with less risk. You must have ways to get in and out of the country without going through immigration, and that’s what I’m buying. I don’t have much to offer in return except a dim theory and a few guesses. But four people have died, and somebody killed them. Somebody switched those cartons, somebody knifed Lenore and shot Rubino. I think I know how I can break it open, if I can get you people to help. Is there anything to drink here?”
One of the young men quietly left the room.
Shayne continued. “At least two people knew what Alvares did with his money-Alvares himself and Lenore Dante. He’s dead and she’s pinned down and can’t get back to the United States without help. So there doesn’t seem to be any rush. But if everybody involved in this can be given the idea that I know where the money is and I’m on my way-”
“And do you know where it is?” Serrano said.
Shayne exploded. “I thought I’d made it clear that I’m working blind. I don’t even know for sure that there is any money.”
An unmarked bottle was brought in, containing a colorless, slightly oily liquid. Glasses were filled and handed around. Shayne raised his drink and knocked it back. It didn’t go off until it was all the way down, and then the explosion was considerable.
“It is called pisca,” Serrano said.
“Very smooth. All right. It’s a simple idea but I’ll explain it again. I can’t operate down here. Usually I don’t mind sticking my head up over the edge of the foxhole to see who takes a shot at me. But here I wouldn’t learn anything and I might not live through it.”
“You’ve done all right so far,” Paula remarked.
“I’ve asked some questions, and I’ve been given some conflicting answers. I keep looking over my shoulder to see who’s behind me. I wanted to see what you look like and how you handle yourselves. And to arrange something simple like that, I had to set up a complicated dodge with a two-way mirror, and I came damn close to getting five people killed in a head-on collision. Before I make any more of these great moves I want to be back where I speak the language. Palm Beach keeps being mentioned. It isn’t as good as Miami, but it’s good enough. The police chief there is a friend of mine. I keep coming across jewelry in Miami that’s been stolen in Palm Beach, and it goes back to the owners through the Palm Beach cops. So they owe me a favor. I know where to buy information and which streets run one-way.”
“You wish to transfer the entire matter to Palm Beach from Caracas,” Paula said, “like changing to a new scene in a film?”
“You make it sound complicated. All I have to do is persuade a few key people that the money is definitely in Palm Beach, and I know where it is, and I’m going after it with the help of my friends in the MIR, who’ve been cut in for a piece.”
“Then whoever tries to get to the money first-” Serrano said slowly.
“We bushwhack. We relieve them of the money and find out something. There are ways of doing it if you’re willing to think about it.”
Serrano looked at him carefully. “I’m willing to think about it. What means of transportation?”