make a living. Probably whoever substituted his tape for mine put that gadget on the wire too.”
“Maybe. Come back upstairs.”
In the long hall under a low-watt electric bulb, Shayne stopped and reached for the telephone.
Madame Swoboda’s voice came on an indrawn breath of stark protest. “You’re not going to call the police?”
“Why not? Somebody tried to murder Clarissa Milford.”
“Shayne!” Her hand gripped his arm fiercely. “I didn’t do it! I know nothing about it!”
“Then you’ve nothing to fear from the police.”
“You know I can’t stand a police investigation!”
“Do I?”
“I had absolutely no reason for wanting to murder Clarissa Milford-”
“Tell that to the police.”
“But it looks bad for me. They’ll hold me for questioning at least overnight, won’t they?”
“Probably.”
“That’s too long! I’ve got to get out of here. Now!”
“Why?”
“For personal reasons. They have nothing at all to do with tonight’s seance.” She was pressing close to him, desperately intense, pleading, her breath warm on his face. “Do something for me, Shayne, please! You can’t lose by it.”
“Can I gain?”
“Yes, whatever you want. Just let me get out of here before the police come, or if you can’t do that because of your professional reputation, smooth it out for me with them. Fix it so they’ll let me go right away.” Her voice grew husky, seductive. “Will you do that, Shayne?”
He smiled wryly. “I still can’t see what I’ll gain.”
She lifted her hand suddenly, tore off the tiara and the enshrouding veil and threw them to the floor. As her arm descended, her bracelet caught in the silver shawl, pulling it down and exposing one perfect breast. She pressed close to him, her voice caressing. “Shayne, I’ll be good to you. There’s time for that. That fire you wondered about-I’ll burn you in a way you won’t forget.”
Shayne said harshly, “You have burned me-with rage!”
She reached for him with her lips. “What are you saying?”
“I’m saying that your three associates murdered Sylvester!”
“I know nothing of that.”
“You know. Is the reason you have to leave town so fast because you don’t trust them? Are you afraid they’ll cut you out of your share?”
“Share of what? I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“I’m talking about the last pick-up Ed Woodbine, Slim Collins and Vince Becker are going to make tonight from a Cuban boat. They’re out on Sylvester’s boat. I’m talking about narcotics in a fish belly. They were probably to meet you later up the coast. But if you aren’t there, they’ll go on without you and then you’ll never get your share. I’m talking about Slug Murphy, Slim Rizzo and Joe Arminetti!”
She stood very still, her head drawn back, staring at him penetratingly with her gray, hypnotic eyes. “All right.” Her voice was precise, cool and under control. “I don’t know how you know, but you do know some of it. It’s only the smallest part. You leave me no choice, so I’m going to tell you the rest, and then I’m going to make you a proposition-the best you ever had in your life.”
“I’ve had some good ones.”
“Not this good. So listen, Shayne. You’re right about tonight. If I’m not there they’ll move on and try to cut me out. What you don’t know is that my part is the lion’s share.”
“I assumed that. And I know that Swoboda is nobody’s dupe, nobody’s hired go-between. Swoboda is the brains and master of the whole operation.”
She gasped. “Who told you?”
“No one. It figures. Otherwise why this run-around of passing on information through numbers incorporated in spirit messages? If this was your project, if you recruited those three men for the job, then you had to have some way of keeping the reins tight in your hands. You’d have to make sure you’d be the one to receive the vital information that came in from your outside contact. This seance set-up gave you complete control. You could withhold time-and-place information on the next pickup until you had assured yourself the previous shipment had progressed through Miami according to plan to the ultimate receiving or cutting center.”
“All right. Here’s the rest of it. I told you it was Vegas where all this started. It wasn’t-it was Cuba. I did a mentalist act there, but I also had a small part in a narcotics ring operated by the Syndicate with a nod from someone in the Batista government. Then when Castro strong-armed Batista out, everything fell to pieces and through a lucky break I got my hands on some of the stuff. The problem was to get it to the States, so I flew around the country and lined up my operation, using contacts I’d made when I was working with the Syndicate.”
“You must have been pretty afraid the Syndicate would find out.”
“I was, believe me. More than of the police. That’s why I had to keep it tight in my hands at all costs. That’s why I set up this seance business.”
She paused for a moment, and when she spoke again her voice was charged with hoarse intensity. “So, here’s my proposition. There’s more of that golden stuff than came in tonight. We’ve only brought in six shipments. I can cut those three goons out, Shayne, if I can get to my contact up north quick enough, and I can cut you in. Even money. And you can leave Miami with me and protect your interests all the way. And Shayne-” her voice softened-“I’m part of the bargain, for as long as you want.” She pulled his head down and pressed her lips on his mouth searingly.
He let the kiss end, then pulled away, “Sorry. The Coast Guard has already picked up your three stooges from the Santa Clara and seized the shipment, and the Syndicate now knows about you, and so will the police when I put through this call.”
“You bastard!” She swung away from him, seething. “You police-stool bastard!” She lifted her hand, ostensibly to pull the silver shawl over her bare breast, but when it reappeared something in it flickered metallically in the dim hall light.
Shayne’s big hand moved in the same instant. He wrenched the delicate lady’s gun from her grasp. It clattered to the floor. With a sob in her throat, she bent. Her hand snaked out. Shayne stamped his foot on it, and before the cry of pain had fully left her lips, had the gun in his own hand.
With it trained on her, he reached for the telephone and dialed the number of Police Headquarters.
16
When Will Gentry was on the line, Shayne said, “Better come over to Swoboda’s fast, Will.”
“Why?”
“I’ll tell you in a minute. Did you get any reports yet on the affair of the Santa Clara?”
“They just came in. De Luca and some out-of-town hoods poured it into each other and then the Coast Guard and the Narcotics Bureau mopped up. Wait a minute! Is what you’ve got at Swoboda’s part of that?”
“The biggest part. But there’s something else that isn’t related to the smuggling. You should have had a man at the seance tonight the way I told you. Someone made an attempt on Clarissa Milford’s life.”
“Well, I’m damned! If you knew they were going to, why didn’t you insist?”
“I didn’t know for sure. I’m not psychic.”
“The way you’ve been hanging out there lately, you seem to-” Gentry stopped abruptly. “Milford? Is that the Clarissa Milford who was in the news last week? That freak accident? Her car was stolen and her nephew killed by it?”
“That’s the one. Only I don’t think it was an accident. I think it was murder. Do me a favor, Will-”
“Do me one,” Gentry snapped. “Tell me in plain English what’s up.”
“I think I can wrap it up fast,” Shayne said, “if you’ll take Mr. and Mrs. Milford and Mr. and Mrs. Thain in for
