I suggested it, and accused me of being as bad as mother about wanting to hold her down.
'Well, she was twenty and earning her own living.' He spread out his hands and looked at Shayne helplessly. 'I didn't know. I loved her and wanted to protect her, but- I just didn't know. I decided maybe it was best to let her J go it alone. So I got a job in Detroit, and from her letters I — thought everything was fine.
'That was up to two weeks ago when I got a wire saying she was in trouble.'
'What sort of trouble?'
'She didn't say. It was a funny wire. Wild and-well, sort of incoherent. So I wired her to hold the fort and drove down-straight through in twenty-six hours. And when I got to Jax she'd vanished. No one knew where she had gone. So I hired this private detective in Jacksonville, and this afternoon he reported to me he'd located her in Miami-at the Hibiscus Hotel. Room three-sixteen. And I knew something was awfully funny, because always before when we came to Miami we stayed at the Tropical
Arms-where they knew us and all.
'So I jumped in my car and drove down as fast as I could.'
'What time did you leave Jacksonville?' interjected Shayne.
'A little before four o'clock.'
'You weren't in much of a hurry to reach her.' said Shayne dryly. 'Anybody can do it in four hours.'
'I had an accident the other side of Fort Lauderdale. Crazy driver smashed into my rear-end when I slowed for a light.'
Paulson rubbed his forehead vaguely. 'Slammed me against the windshield. Broke my glasses and half knocked me out. I had to drive slow coming on in. That delayed me a couple of hours, so it was about nine-thirty when I got to the Hibiscus.'
'And?' prompted Shayne when Paulson stopped again, his gaze withdrawn and inward as though the memory rankled horribly.
'Well, I went to the elevator and up to the third floor. As I walked down the corridor toward three-sixteen, I saw the door stood open and light was coming out. And when I was about eight feet away, Nellie stepped out and turned toward me. She gave one scream and started running in the other direction. I've thought and thought about it,' he ended wearily, 'and I admit the hall light was dim and she'd just stepped out of a brightly-lit room, so maybe she didn't recognize me in one glance. That might explain-'
'It wouldn't explain,' said Shayne sharply, 'her story about being registered at the Roney Plaza Hotel with her brother, and going to the Hibiscus at nine-thirty in response to a call from him and finding him lying on the bed in three-sixteen with his throat slit wide open.'
'But there wasn't anybody in the room-dead or alive,' protested Paulson. 'I'm positive. I glanced in through the Open door as I ran past after Nellie. The room was empty.'
Shayne nodded slowly, draining his glass and setting it on the tray. 'I know. That fits her story, too. About the body of her brother disappearing from the room while she was telephoning for help from another room.'
'But I'm her brother,' fumed Paulson helplessly. 'Let me see her, Mr. Shayne. Let me talk to her. You can be right there and listen. Don't you see she needs help-making up a crazy story about me being murdered and then running away at the sight of me?'
'Somebody,' agreed Shayne, 'is sure as hell making up a crazy story.' He drummed blunt fingertips on the arm of his chair indecisively. 'Couple of things we can check without too much trouble.'
'Then start checking them, for God's sake I' burst out Paulson. 'Call yourself a detective? Get to the bottom of this. You claim Nellie is all right and you can produce her any time, but how do I know. Prove it.'
Shayne said equably, 'You'll have to take my word for it.' He went to the telephone and called the number of the Hibiscus Hotel which he had looked up earlier. When the switchboard answered, he asked, 'Do you have a Miss Paulson registered? Nellie Paulson from Jacksonville?'
'Three-sixteen,' Evelyn replied at once. 'But Miss Paulson isn't in just now.'
'I know. Look, anything more on bodies appearing and disappearing from her room?'
There was a long pause. Then Evelyn said primly, 'I'm sure I don't know what you mean, sir. Who is calling?'
Shayne said, 'Never mind,' and hung up. He nodded to Paulson who had risen and was looking at him eagerly. 'That much checks. Miss Paulson has three-sixteen and she isn't in.'
'Well-what are you waiting for?'
'One more detail.' Shayne called the Roney Plaza
J
number from memory. He asked again, 'Do you have a Miss Paulson registered? Miss Nellie Paulson from Jacksonville?'
It took quite a bit longer to get an answer this time. And it was decisively negative: 'Sorry, but we have no Miss Paulson.'
Shayne hung up with a shrug. He told Paulson, 'I guess it's about time we tried to straighten this out.' Without further explanation, he strode to the kitchen door and knocked on it. 'Nellie. This is Mike Shayne. It's all right to come out now.'
Bert Paulson ran toward him, his face contorted with anger. 'Damn iti Do you mean to say she was in here all the time you were stalling me along? Why didn't you-?'
'Shut up,' warned Shayne angrily. 'I promised her I'd get rid of you before I called her out. If she hears you're still here-'
He turned and knocked more loudly on the door. 'It's okay, Nellie. Unlock the door. I give you my word it's all right to come out.'
There was still no response from the kitchen. Paulson shoved Shayne aside and rattled the knob frantically. 'Nellie! Do you hear me, Nellie? It's Bert, darling. Bert! Don't you hear? Everything's all right. I swear it is. I've been so worried.'
Shayne stood aside with a bleakly saturnine look on his face while Bert pleaded through the closed door for his sister to come out. After a few minutes attempted cajolery got them nowhere, Shayne said, 'If you'd kept your damned mouth closed until she unlocked the door, everything would have been all right. As it is-the way she seems to feel about you-she's probably run out the back door and down the fire escape by this time.'
'The fire escape?' Paulson whirled about, his scar standing out strongly on his cheek. 'You mean there's a back way out of that room?'
Shayne said sardonically, 'That's what I mean. If you'd let nie handle it-'
That was as far as he got before Paulson whirled and threw his weight against the door. The hook and eye holding it on the inside gave under the impact and the door crashed open.
One glance showed them the kitchen was empty. Paulson jumped for the back door and found it unlocked, jerked it open and stepped out onto the fire escape landing to peer anxiously downward.
He reappeared with his face dark with rage. 'She's gone,' he panted. 'God only knows where. Or what she'll do next. Damn your soul to hell, Shayne. It's your fault. If you'd told me at the beginning-'
Shayne caught his shoulder and whirled him about as he started to run out. 'Take it easy. Maybe she had a hell of a good reason for ducking out before you broke that door down. You and I are going down to police headquarters and-'
An extraordinary change came over Bert Paulson's face. He backed away and his right hand darted inside his jacket buttoned in front and reappeared holding a Colt's. 45 Army automatic aimed squarely at Shayne's belly. His lips drew away from his teeth in a wolfish grin as Shayne hesitated, trying to decide whether to jump him or not.
'Don't do it. Mister Detective. I'd just as soon kill you as any of those men I killed in Korea, and don't forget it. You can go down to police headquarters if you want, but I you'll go alone. I've had enough talk. You don't seem to realize Nellie's out there in the night alone somewhere. With God knows what sort of hallucinations running through her head. ||
'I'm going out to find her, by God.' He was backing away steadily toward the front door as he talked, the big gun held unwaveringly in line with Shayne's middle.
'Don't make a move forward,' he warned. 'Not one step or I'll let you have it. I swear I will. She's my sister and I'm responsible for her.'
He fumbled behind him with his left hand for the doorknob, his eyes feverishly bright on Shayne. 'Don't try to
