There was a pause. Then Gordon said, “All right. Talk.”
“What am I offered for a genuine Raphael this morning?”
Gordon began swearing strange oaths, and Shayne interrupted happily, “Tut, tut. Get wise to yourself, guy.”
Gordon swore some more. Shayne waited until he was completely through before saying placidly, “Mr. Montrose over at the Brighton house has got your pretty little picture. But he-er-is afraid of it. Things are a little bit too tough for him to hold onto it, what with a few stray murders and such. It’s going into the open market. Want to bid?”
“Hell, no. I don’t want to buy the damned thing.”
“You’re already in two grand,” Shayne reminded him bleakly. “Besides-well, we won’t mention what else. But I think you know what I mean. I can make a deal with Montrose for ten grand.”
“Ten grand? Why, that’s not a tenth-”
“That’s why you’d better not pass up the chance. Montrose hasn’t got the guts to see the deal through. There’s a nice profit in it for a man that’s not afraid of the heat-like you.”
“What’s the lay?” Gordon rasped.
“It’s at the Brighton house. I’m handling the deal. You drive up to the front door at eleven-forty-that’s twenty minutes to twelve-with ten G’s in your pocket. You can bring your nasty little boy with his Goddamned Luger if you want, and an art expert to pass on the picture. I’ll be waiting for you.”
“You’ll get your guts blasted out,” Gordon warned him, “if this is a plant.”
“And you’ll get yours blasted out,” Shayne told him unemotionally, “if you pull up in front of the Brighton house more than a minute before or after eleven-forty.”
“Why the timing? It sounds like a phony.”
“That,” Shayne told him, “is something for you to worry about. We play this my way or not at all.”
When Gordon didn’t answer immediately, Shayne said, “Listen, louse. The only reason I’m letting you in on this is because it means money in my pocket. But I’m not going to beg you. Take it or leave it-and Goddamn sudden.”
“I’ll take it,” Gordon said thickly.
“Eleven-forty,” Shayne reminded him and hung up. He felt drugged with pain and weakness as he went to the bed and sat down. But he still had a call to make, and he didn’t feel up to talking to Painter without a drink inside of him. Dragging himself back to the phone he ordered a quart of Martell sent up. When it came he sat on the edge of the bed and drank deeply out of the bottle.
The pungent stuff took immediate effect. He was his old self as he picked up the phone again and called the office of the Miami Beach chief of detectives.
Painter’s voice sounded strained and uneasy over the wire. When Shayne told him who it was, he exclaimed, “It’s after ten o’clock, Shayne.”
“Things are clearing up nicely,” Shayne soothed him. “But you’re a lousy cheapskate. I don’t see anything in the papers about you getting generous and raising the reward you’re offering personally.”
“Good God! The state is offering two thousand.”
“And your measly contribution is two hundred and fifty. Is that all it’s worth to you to break this case-with full credit?”
“Full credit?” Painter sounded as though he were strangling.
“That’s the lay. I don’t want any publicity. It’s bad for my business. But I can use cash.”
“Come clean,” Painter begged.
“Here’s my offer, fair and square. Double the reward you’ve offered. Guarantee me that every penny goes into my pocket and my name doesn’t appear.”
“Five hundred?” Painter sounded startled. “That’s pretty stiff for me to put up.”
“Is your job worth that?” asked Shayne stridently.
“Well-yes, of course.”
“It won’t be worth a plugged nickel if I bust this case under your nose and don’t let you in on it.”
“That’s blackmail,” Painter protested.
“Call it anything you like, just so I get the money. Think it over, pal. Take it or leave it.”
Painter thought it over-for thirty seconds. He said unhappily, “I’m in a hole. I’ll play it your way.”
“Right. You got any men at Brighton’s place?”
“There’s one stationed in the house.”
“Drag him out right away. Scatter about six or eight in plain clothes around on the outside; cover the street both ways and every exit from the grounds. Keep them out of sight and give orders not to let a soul leave the grounds after eleven-thirty. Got that?” Painter said he had it.
“And don’t let any reporters on the grounds after eleven-thirty. Better call all the papers right away and tell them to have their best men in your office at twelve o’clock. Promise them the story of the year-and you won’t be missing it.”
“Tell me what to expect.”
Shayne chuckled happily. “I can tell you this much. Have the coroner and undertaker standing by.”
“Wait! You swore there wouldn’t be any more killing.”
“This’ll be justifiable homicide.” Shayne chuckled. “You’ll get a medal for saving the state hanging money. Be hanging around outside the grounds out of sight about a quarter of twelve. Don’t, for God’s sake, come busting in and spoiling my show until the shooting starts.”
“Shooting? Now look here, Shayne-
“I’m just guessing.” Shayne hung up and fortified himself with another long pull from the bottle. Then he put it in his pocket and went downstairs, feeling almost human again.
At the desk he paid for the extras he had ordered, and went up the street to Pelham Joyce’s studio.
Joyce met him at the door, tremendously excited. “Perhaps you had a finger in this,” he charged.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“About a certain Mr. Gordon calling me up not ten minutes ago and giving me a puff about having been recommended to him as the foremost connoisseur of Art in the city-and asking me to go with him this noon to authenticate what is purported to be a genuine Raphael he contemplates purchasing. I don’t know any Mr. Gordon.”
Shayne sat down and began laughing helplessly. “I told him he could pick his own expert.”
“Then you are responsible?”
Shayne shook his head feebly. “Absolutely not. I didn’t mention your name. He must have inquired around. But, by God, he couldn’t have picked a better man to pass on this Raphael.” He sank back and laughed some more while a frosty smile appeared on Joyce’s features as he began to understand.
“Is the painting okay?” Shayne asked after a time.
Joyce went over to the table where it was spread out, rolled it up, and replaced the brown paper covering that had been on it originally. Shayne took it and thanked him and said they’d be seeing each other about eleven- forty.
Then he went down to the street and to his own hotel. He smiled grimly as he unlocked the door and went in. The apartment had been thoroughly searched during his overnight absence, and no effort had been made to cover it up. The door hadn’t been jimmied this time. Mr. Ray Gordon was a gentleman who managed such things more smoothly.
The bedroom and kitchen had been as thoroughly gone over as the living-room. He opened the refrigerator and took out the hydrator. Poking his finger down through the shredded lettuce he found the pearls had not been molested. He put the hydrator back as it had been, went into the living-room, and sat down in the midst of the disorder, alternately smoking cigarettes and sipping brandy while he waited for eleven o’clock to come.
Precisely on the hour he got up and went out with the painting under his arm.
Downstairs he casually mentioned to the clerk that his apartment had been burglarized, and asked him to send up a maid to straighten things out.
Then he went out, got in his car, and clumsily drove north to the causeway and east across Biscayne Bay to Miami Beach.
