follow or stop me. Somebody will sure as hell get hurt.'
He opened the door and glided out, closed it behind him fast.
Shayne sighed and walked slowly to the tray and poured himself out a drink. Nellie should be perfectly safe with Lucy by this time-or at least in a cab on her way to Lucy's. And there was no possible chance for Bert to find her there. In the meantime, Shayne had a lot of questions to ask in different places.
EIGHT: 10:28 P.M
The girl stood inside Shayne's kitchen with her ear pressed hard against the thin wooden panel trying to hear what was going on beyond the door.
As soon as she had thrown the flimsy latch on the door behind her, she had frantically reconnoitered for a possible means of escape if it became necessary, and had unlocked and opened the back door leading out to the fire escape. With it standing invitingly open, she had returned to the other door to do her utmost to comprehend what was being said inside.
She wasn't really frightened now, she kept telling herself, trying to stop shivering as she did so. Michael Shayne's big frame and his placid way of taking things had been most reassuring. But had he believed her story? That was the crux of it. Or would he believe whatever fantastic story the man in there with him would tell to explain why he had followed her to Shayne's hotel?
She could hear only isolated words from the other room. Sometimes one or the other of them would raise his voice momentarily, and she would catch a detached phrase. But it was only gibberish that way. It didn't make sense at all.
Her mouth was dry and her heart was beating frantically and she felt faint as she clung there trying to hear.
After all, the story she had told Shayne must have sounded more like hysterical raving than the truth. Because there wasn't any way to prove a word she'd told him. Without the evidence of her brother's body to back it up And she had heard him call the police and the Hibiscus Hotel herself. Of course, they'd told him there was no body. She had known that already.
She stiffened as she heard one of them moving toward the kitchen door. Then there was a knock and Shayne's voice: 'Nellie. This is Mike Shayne. It's all right to come out now.'
And the other's voice shouting angrily as he neared the door: 'Damn iti Do you mean to say she was in here all the time-?'
She waited to hear no more. She dared not hesitate longer. She whirled and slithered across the room and out the open door, drawing it silently shut behind her.
It was quite dark, but she could see the spidery iron steps leading down the single flight alongside the building to a dimly lit side street.
She went down swiftly without looking back, and at the bottom ran with all her speed toward the more brightly lighted street ahead. She had his secretary's address in her suede handbag. He had sworn she would be safe there. No matter what story he had been told, she felt she could trust him not to betray her whereabouts. He would know where she had gone as soon as he found the kitchen empty, she told herself thankfully. If she could only find a taxi now.
Reaching Southeast 2nd Avenue, she turned unhesitatingly toward the brilliantly lighted section of the city and away from the bridge across the river. She knew Flagler Street was only a block or so in this direction. There would be people and taxi stands-and safety.
She slowed to a fast walk on the avenue. There was a single loitering female figure on the sidewalk ahead of her. She had a large red handbag swinging carelessly from a strap over her shoulder and was strolling along as though she hadn't a care in the world.
And she probably hadn't, thought the distraught girl to herself as she came up on her rapidly. Miami must be full of people who hadn't a care in the world. Who could stroll unconcernedly along any street in the city without fear of pursuit. Without fear, period.
She was abreast of the other girl who turned curiously to see who was passing in such desperate haste. She caught only a brief glimpse of her face as she was going by without slackening her pace, and had a brief feeling of recognition.
She heard a surprised exclamation, and then the footsteps slightly behind her quickened and a moment later a hand seized her arm firmly.
She turned to shake it off, and then she recognized the features of the girl who had been so nice to her in the taxi-cab about letting the driver pick her up and take her to Shayne's hotel.
'Goodness!' the girl exclaimed. 'It is you, isn't it? I was so utterly surprised to see you. Is everything all right?' she went on anxiously. 'Did you find your detective all right? My, that was so exciting in the cab. Nothing ever happens to me,' she added resentfully.
Her first impulse was to rudely snatch her arm away from the other's grasp and run on toward Flagler. But she glanced swiftly over her shoulder at the empty street behind them, and forced herself to slow down instead. After all, wasn't this better? Two girls walking along sedately together. Practically running and alone as she had been, she was much more conspicuous. And the girl had been nice to her in the cab. She did owe her some explanation. It wouldn't be very polite to brush her off now.
She caught her breath as best she could, and said, 'I never expected to see you again, either. How on earth do you happen to be here?'
'I stopped to see a friend on Brickell the other side of the bridge, and when I started back there weren't any taxis. So I thought I might as well walk the few blocks.'
She linked their arms together tightly as they neared the intersection, and steered the other girl across the street, saying happily, 'Let's sit on a park bench for a minute and you've got to tell me all about it. You need to catch your breath anyway, and I'm just torn to pieces with curiosity. Is Michael Shayne half as attractive as they say he is-with that red hair and all?'
'Attractive?' the other asked dazedly, letting herself be led into a palm-lined path in the park, and then dropping wearily onto a bench. 'Yes, I guess so. He's nice.'
'Why on earth were you in such a hurry to get away from him then?' purred the other.
'I–I-oh, it's all so mixed up. I don't know what to do. That man followed me there somehow, you see. And I was out in the kitchen while they talked. And I got frightened and-ran away.'
'You poor thing. You mean the same man who was chasing you when you jumped in the cab with me?'
'Yes. With the scarred face. Oh, it's all so impossible I just can't make anybody understand. Even Mr. Shayne. I don't think he believed me at all.'
'That's a shame. What are you going to do now?'
'He gave me an address. I've got it here in my bag. A note to his secretary where I can stay and be perfectly safe.' She started up, fright seizing her anew. 'I should go on. If he finds me here-'
The other's hand was tight on her arm, pulling her down to the bench 'It's dark here. No one can see us on this bench. If he does come out looking for you, you'll be safer sitting here until he goes by than out on the street trying to find a cab. And I'm just dying to have you tell me what it's all about.'
'Well, I–I guess maybe you're right.' She allowed herself to be persuaded and sank back onto the bench, thinking it would be good to talk to someone else and see how her story sounded. Maybe that way it would come clearer and 'I'm Mary Barnes,' she began. 'I'm staying at the Roney Plaza, and-'
It was dark on the palm-shrouded bench in the park with only a slim sliver of a moon overhead. Dark and silent except for the low murmur of the girls' voices as they sat close together.
And after a time that murmur ceased and there was complete silence for a moment, then the sound of a brief struggle and a low, gasping, 'A-h-h-h.'
And then more silence.
And then a single set of footsteps, coming out of the darkness and the silence to the streetlights, to wave down a cruising taxi.
And a girl getting in the rear seat and settling herself composedly in the corner and opening a black suede
