of place so far from any other sign of community living. They sat in a deserted field, squat and ugly, combining city and country living in an almost comic way. While it wasn’t difficult to picture Percy and Mabel Thain living out their lives within these lonesome, unimaginative walls, Clarissa Milford seemed out of place here. Perhaps she lived here because it was cheap. If her husband was a compulsive gambler, she’d need to keep a tight hand on the budget.
Across the way the Thains’ house was dark, but a light shone behind drawn shades in the Milford living room.
As Shayne reached for the door handle, Lucy said, “I’ll wait here for you, Michael.”
“Just to prove you trust me with another woman?”
“No, but she’s so upset. I think she’d rather talk to you alone.”
“Angel.” He slid across the seat and kissed her quickly. “You are a good angel. I won’t be long.”
As he walked across the thin sward of grass to the front door and rang the bell, from the corner of his eye he caught a movement in a spotting of shrubbery. Bill Martin was on the job. It had probably been his light-colored convertible parked on the road.
Clarissa came to the door, wearing the same blue suit she had worn to the office this afternoon and at the seance. Her eyes were tight and she looked tired. When she recognized Shayne, fine lines appeared on her forehead.
“May I come in for a minute?”
“Of course.” She stepped aside, a little reluctantly, adding, “My sister and brother-in-law are here.”
“Maybe we could talk outside for a minute then.”
She closed the door behind her, walked down the steps and out onto the sparse grass. About ten feet from the house she stopped, turned suddenly and said, “Dan hasn’t come home yet. He called to say he was tied up-on business he said, but I know what kind. Have you found anything out yet?”
He smiled. “You’ve got to give me a little time. What do you mean-you know what kind of business your husband is tied up with tonight?”
She took the cigarette he offered and let him light it and then she said, “This afternoon I told you that Dan liked to gamble, but I-didn’t tell you the whole thing. I guess I hoped I wouldn’t have to. It doesn’t have any bearing on what I came to see you about.”
“Then why are you telling me now?”
“Because I think maybe you can help me. Dan’s in deep, Mr. Shayne. He’s half-crazy with worry and I am too-about him. Especially since he didn’t come home tonight.”
“Who does he owe the money to? Someone who won’t wait?”
She nodded, looking down to avoid the redhead’s eyes. “I wasn’t quite honest with you this afternoon when I said the name De Luca didn’t mean anything to me. He’s the loan-shark Dan owes money to.”
Shayne’s interest quickened. He tapped the cigarette, sending sparks into the dark. Was this the connection between the pretty housewife and the dead hoodlum he had been looking for? Henlein had worked for De Luca, Dan Milford owed money to De Luca, and De Luca had been known to maim and kill men who failed to meet his usurious payments. Had one of De Luca’s musclemen tried to get Dan Milford to pay up by leaving one of the voodoo dolls with his wife? It seemed an unlikely way for gangsters to operate-still, they had done more than frighten Henny Henlein, they had killed him.
There was another possibility. If Henny Henlein had been crowding Dan Milford for his loan-shark boss, De Luca, Dan might have killed Henlein.
“Does your husband know you got the doll?” Shayne asked abruptly.
“No. I didn’t tell him.”
“You told the Thains. Why didn’t you tell him too? Unless you think he left it?”
She stared at him, her horror showing even in the dark night. “If you knew him you’d never say that. Dan’s not a murderer!”
“And you’re not murdered-yet. But Henny Henlein is. Henlein was one of De Luca’s muscle-men and collectors. Now that you’ve admitted you know De Luca, what do you know about Henlein?”
“Nothing. I was telling the truth about that. I never heard the name.”
“You still haven’t told me why you didn’t tell your husband somebody left you the voodoo doll.”
“I didn’t want to worry him any more. He had enough to be worried about.” She was crying softly. “And even if he did want to kill me-which he never would-why wouldn’t he just do it, instead of sending me the doll?”
“You told me this afternoon he believed in the voodoo curse-that he was like a child that way.”
“Dan would never hurt me, much less kill me. He wouldn’t!”
“He wants to divorce you,” Shayne said brutally. “He told you so. Maybe he’s changed his mind about that and would like your insurance money instead. He’d be just as free to marry Madame Swoboda if you were dead as if you were divorced. And he’d be out from under De Luca’s threat, with maybe some money left over.”
“You’re horrible, Mr. Shayne!” She whirled away from him and started toward the house.
He caught her arm and swung her around. She bumped against him and for a quick instant he felt her body warm and exciting against him. “You hired me to help you, Clarissa. That’s what I’m trying to do.”
She sobbed on his shoulder. “I know. I’m sorry to be making such a scene, but I’m so worried about Dan-”
“He’s been out gambling before.”
She drew away and wiped her eyes. “I don’t think he’s gambling tonight. I think he’s trying to raise money to pay off D. L. And if he can’t do it-and I don’t know how he can-our house and car are mortgaged to the limit-I’m afraid of what D. L. will do. Dan may be beaten-or killed. Even now he may be dead-”
She stopped as light streamed from the just-opened door of the house.
“Clarissa!” Mabel called peremptorily. “Where are you?”
“Out here. Talking to Mr. Shayne.”
“Good heavens, you’ve been at it long enough. And all over a silly doll somebody most likely left you for a joke. Well anyway, we’re going home. Percy needs some sleep if he’s going to work tomorrow.”
“Don’t go. I’m coming in now.”
The Thains came down the steps anyway and moved toward them across the lawn.
“I wonder if you’d mind telling me,” Shayne said as they came nearer, “how long you’ve been going to Madame Swoboda’s?”
Mabel Thain stopped a few feet away. “Only since Jimsey’s death,” she said tightly. “Dan took us and we found it comforting.”
“How long has Dan been going?”
“A month or so,” Clarissa said. “Ever since she started up.”
“Does Madame Swoboda always incorporate numbers in her messages?”
“Numbers? No, not always. Sometimes.”
“What do you make of them?”
“Nothing,” Clarissa said firmly. “Nothing at all.”
“How about Dan?”
“Dan believes in numerology,” she said slowly. “He says his lucky number is twelve. If her numbers add up to a divisor or multiple of twelve, he believes that’s his day to gamble. I think he loses as fast on those days as the others.”
Shayne turned to the Thains. “What do you make of the numbers?”
Percy Thain looked beaten and dispirited; his hostility toward Shayne seemed to be gone. “I don’t know. I don’t try to understand everything. It’s enough for me to hear my son’s voice.”
“And you?” The redhead shifted his eyes to Mabel.
“They give me a sense of mystic knowledge,” she said exaltedly, fastening her eyes on the dark sky as if probing its mysteries. “It is a cabala, the theosophy of the occult. One senses and one knows, but none of these things can be communicated in words.”
Shayne waited a moment, tugging his left ear-lobe, then turned. “I’ll keep in touch with you, Mrs. Milford. And don’t worry.”
Lost in thought, he walked toward the car. Mabel had, of course, treated the matter of the voodoo doll lightly to keep her sister from being unduly distressed. But Clarissa had said Mabel believed in the seances, therefore she
