hard to quell the rising sob-“I think he’s in love with Madame Swoboda.”
“In love with Madame Swoboda?” Shayne’s incredulous eyes rested on the classic loveliness of Clarissa’s face.
“Yes. She isn’t what you think, Mr. Shayne. Madame Swoboda is no raggle-tag gypsy. I don’t know what her real name is, but she’s young-younger than I am-and devastating, from a male point of view. I’ve watched Dan look at her, and other men too. She’s beautiful and cool, but there’s fire underneath. She’s not spiritual, she’s earthy. And she’s soulless!”
“She sounds dangerous,” Shayne murmured appreciatively. “Did your husband tell you he was in love with her?”
“No, but he’s asked for a divorce.” She fell silent, then said, “I wouldn’t-I couldn’t! — give it to him. I love him too much.”
“Might he have left you the doll?”
Clarissa raised one pale hand uncertainly to push a wisp of gold hair back into the bun. “I don’t know. Dan believes in black magic himself to some extent. He’s like a child that way. That’s why, at first, I didn’t want to come to see you. I think I was afraid of what you might find out. You see, Mr. Shayne, I’m heavily insured.” Her voice trailed off.
“Assume for the moment that Swoboda left you the doll. Why did she? To frighten you off so she can marry your husband? Is she in love with him? Could she profit financially or any other way by marrying him?”
“I don’t see how she could profit in any other way, and I don’t know if she is in love with him or not. I only sense how Dan feels about her. But Madame Swoboda hates me for another reason that has nothing to do with Dan. I was concerned about Mabel, my sister-she’s been so terribly upset since Jimsey was killed and so has Percy-and I didn’t want them to live on the false hope they get from seances. The strain is awful and I was afraid they might crack up. So I went to Madame Swoboda the other day and accused her of being a fraud and capitalizing on people’s tragedies and fears, and I threatened to turn her over to the police.” Clarissa paused thoughtfully. “It was curious. My threat seemed to frighten her more than I expected it would.”
“She didn’t agree to stop the seances, though.”
“No. She refused to accept any responsibility for Mabel or Percy or any of her clients, I guess you’d call them. She insisted that it was the spirits who spoke through her, and she was only the host, the medium through which they spoke. And then I made a beaut of a mistake. I said the spirits spoke to me, too, and they told me she was trying to steal my husband. I said she’d never do it, except over my dead body.
“She said, ‘It would be a pleasure that way!’ So you see, if she didn’t already have the idea of getting Dan away from me, I gave it to her.”
Clarissa fumbled unsteadily in her purse, took out a pack of cigarettes and offered one to Shayne, waiting until he had lit them both before she added, “The worst of it is that now I’m so jealous I can’t bear to let Dan go to the seances alone. So I’ll have to face her again.”
“Tonight?”
Clarissa nodded and, for the first time, allowed anger to creep into her voice. “It outrages me to see her victimize Mabel and Percy, but they refuse to miss a night. That’s another reason I go. If she plays too much on their emotions, if they break down or go to pieces, I want to be there to help them.”
“I understand. Now, let’s go back to something you said a minute ago. When you threatened to turn Swoboda over to the police you say she seemed frightened.”
“Yes. She laughed, but it was a nervous laugh-too loud and too long. Then she began to defend herself. She said she was operating scrupulously within the law. She was an entertainer, nothing more. I thought she protested too much.”
“She might have a criminal record,” Shayne said. “I’ll check on it.”
“Then you will take the case?”
“I’ll take it.” He smiled reassuringly. “I’ll be at the seance tonight too. What time does it start?”
“At eight. But you have to be there at a quarter of. They won’t let you in after it starts.”
“That doesn’t leave me much time, but I’ll make it-with a reporter from the News. We’ll blow this thing wide open.”
She looked up gratefully, her eyes warm. “I’m glad I came to you. It was for myself at first-I wanted to find out who sent the doll because I was afraid-but if you can help Mabel and Percy too by exposing this criminal fraud…” Her voice trailed off into a little sigh of weariness.
“A last question before you go, Mrs. Milford.” From the first, the circumstances of two such dissimilar people as Henny Henlein and Clarissa Milford receiving the voodoo dolls had intrigued Shayne. “Does the name Henry Henlein mean anything to you?”
She thought a moment and said, “No.”
“Or Henny Henlein? He’s a local hoodlum, or was.”
“I’m sure I never heard of him.”
“What about De Luca-sometimes called by his initials, D. L.?”
“You mean the gangster? I’ve seen his name in the papers, that’s all.”
Shayne rose and looked down on Clarissa Milford’s smooth golden head. She was tall, but her bones were light and her waist was small and she gave the impression of delicate fragility. He moved his glance down, past breasts which made a firm thrust against the thin fabric of her blouse, to legs which could have modeled for a stocking ad, then returned to her face again. She was putting on lipstick, her blue eyes focused intently on the tiny vanity mirror. When she snapped it shut and looked up at him she seemed to be one of those rare feminine creatures without imperfection.
“Why should a woman as wholly lovely as you stick to a man who’s fool enough not to want her?” he asked impulsively.
The beginning smile left her lips. “I know I should have more pride, but it’s something I can’t help. I guess I’m a one-man woman, or abnormally possessive, or maybe just plain selfish. You know women like that, don’t you?”
“I do, but I don’t think you’re one of them.”
“I’m afraid I am. I have a strong streak of jealousy. It runs all through our family. My sister, Mabel, and I, and my mother and father-we were all jealous of each other at times. But, as far as Dan goes, I married him because I loved him, and no matter what he does or how little he cares for me, I can’t stop loving him. I know I can’t. I’ve tried.”
“Well, it’s nothing to be ashamed of.” Shayne’s gray eyes were gentle. “Though it does seem a waste.”
“No,” she said vehemently. “No, it isn’t. I know Dan’s good! And somehow I can’t really believe he doesn’t love me still. Or maybe it’s only that I can’t accept it,” she finished sadly.
Shayne patted her arm and walked with her through the outer office. She smiled at him softly before the door closed behind her.
Lucy swung around in her chair, looking up at the redhead with hard, brown eyes. “May I ask you a question, Michael Shayne?”
“Sure, angel. Shoot.”
“Why should a woman as wholly lovely as I am stick to a man who regards her only as a piece of office equipment?”
Shayne grinned crookedly. “Because you love him, eavesdropper.”
“I do not love you and I was not eavesdropping! You purposely left the door open so I could hear you.”
“You misjudge me, Lucy. And besides, this enterprise holds you in higher esteem than it does a piece of office equipment.”
“This enterprise!” She sniffed.
Shayne leaned over her desk and bent to rest his cheek on her silky brown hair. “I’m sorry, angel. I was planning on a little extra-office activity tonight, starting with dinner at Luigi’s, but this other woman came along.”
“That wholly lovely one? And you liked her better?”
“Impossible. But she needs me more. Being needed is very important to a man.”
“To a woman, too.” Lucy sighed. “Imagine having a man all to one’s self. A man who wasn’t pulled in six directions at once.”
