it far out to sea. “If anybody thinks to remove the bullet from Hardeman’s head,” he said grimly, “you don’t want to be in possession of the gun that fired it.”
Matrix’s body was rigid as he watched the faint splash as the pistol fell into deep water, beyond where the combers broke. He turned silently and followed Shayne back to the cottage.
Shayne opened the door and beckoned to Phyllis. She sprang up and got her wrap. Outside, Shayne said, “Let’s get the hell out of here. I’m beginning to feel like a fairy godfather.”
Phyllis had difficulty keeping up with his long strides. “But-what is it all about, Michael? Is it all over? Isn’t Mr. Matrix in any more trouble?”
“No more than any man about to be married,” he grunted.
“But you-you acted so grim when you took him away, and he was so crushed and tragic. Why, Midge and I both thought he had committed the murders.”
Shayne opened the door of the roadster and helped her in. He closed the door and went around to the other side and got in. “That was a test of true love,” he explained as he started the motor. “I had to know whether Matrix had the guts to stand up and take it.”
“You brute,” Phyllis exclaimed, “do you mean it was just a gag-you knew all the time that everything was all right and let Midge think-”
“Something like that, angel. Anyway, you can spend one night in your magnificent hotel suite. I’ll have to be here tomorrow to collect a fee from the Cocopalm Greyhound Track.”
