the deal? Wave a. 45 under his nose and see what he says. Give me ten minutes on the phone and I’ll get him for you.”
“If you’re talking about Vince Donahue,” Shayne said, “he’s somebody else who’s dead.”
Waters looked at him in real terror. “He can’t be dead! I need him to back me up. Shayne, cut the crap.”
“I’d say he died about fifteen minutes after he stuck up Harry,” Shayne said.
“And this was your boy, Doc?” Harry said dangerously. “It begins to make sense. You and Naples rigged that big win so you could pull my cash out of the safe where you could get at it.”
“Harry, for Christ’s sake.” Waters swung toward the redhead, then back to Harry. “I wouldn’t rob you.”
“You had to,” Harry said quietly. “You had to set it up so I’d be out of cash. Otherwise the boys wouldn’t go for that drug frame. Not for a minute. Nobody would who knew me. You’re the one who thought of New York, not me. You were alone when the doctor was here. I’ve only got that one coat. You had time to plant the stuff.” He hitched forward in his chair, all his muscles clenched with the effort to say what he had to say with his last spark of vitality. “You wanted the top job. You thought you could sneak your way in. Send me to jail on a dirty rap and then you could-” A spasm of pain raced across his face. “I can’t think any more. I want that confession.”
“How many things do you want me to confess? I planted heroin in your coat. I faked a loss to Al Naples. I had a kid stick you up. I wanted your job. Harry, I wouldn’t sit in that seat for a million bucks!”
Harry motioned with the gun and Doc’s ballpoint pen started to scratch across the pad.
Shayne said evenly, “Doc didn’t kill Vince Donahue, though, Harry. He was here in the house when it happened. Don’t try to think about it. I’ll fit the pieces together for you. The heroin came in in some kind of trick compartment inside the frame of Theo’s Alfa-Romeo. Vince Donahue has been sleeping with Al Naples’ wife. She told him about the fix on Ladybug. He manipulated Johnny Black, the Florida Christian quarterback, and Black’s on his way in to give you the details if you need them. Vince was the third man in the stickup. Everything had to be carefully timed. He didn’t have the brains to work out anything that complex. Neither does Doc.”
“I never claimed to be a genius,” Waters said sullenly. “Harry!” he screamed. “Don’t!”
Harry had stopped listening. His head came forward with a snap. The. 45 was pointed at Waters’ chest, and with his last strength he tried to pull the trigger.
Waters recoiled against the desk, holding the yellow pad as though it could deflect a bullet. All at once Harry pitched out of the chair and the gun slithered across the carpet. Waters was on it in one catlike motion. Shayne came out of his chair like a released spring and caught his friend before he was all the way down.
Waters pointed the. 45 at him. “Now we work fast, Shayne.” He ripped the top sheet off the pad, thumbed his lighter with one hand and set fire to the partial confession. “We stick him in my car and dump him. There’s going to be no connection between him and me. Give me any trouble and you’re going to be lying right there beside him.” His voice was high and hysterical, but the. 45 in his fist didn’t waver. “In fact, you know too damn much about that heroin, and I think I’d better-”
Shayne interrupted, “Doc, we just agreed that thinking isn’t the thing you do best.” He picked up Harry, one arm under his shoulders and one under his knees. “Haven’t you realized yet that I’m the one person who can get you out of this?”
“Shayne, damn it,” Waters said in a complaining voice, “I was asleep when he started slapping me in the face with that. 45. I don’t know what’s what any more.”
He looked at the unconscious gambler with something approaching affection. “This is the way he used to be. When he was younger he was a real bulldozer. I didn’t think he still had it. How about getting all the way back from New York, when you wouldn’t think he could make it around the block? You know what he was going to do when you walked in? Get my confession, shoot me and put the gun in my hand. Yeah! I could see it in his eye.-Now let’s get him out of here.”
19
Shayne carried Harry Bass to the front porch. Waters opened the screen door for him, sending agonized glances into the darkness. He overtook Shayne at the top step and nudged him with the. 45.
“I’ll get the garage doors open. We’re going to be working together, right? We’ve got a lot of picking up to do.”
Harry’s unconscious body was beginning to slip in Shayne’s arms. Shayne grunted and shifted his hold.
“He’s heavier than he looks. Damn it, give me a hand before I drop him.”
They were halfway down the steps. Waters caught Harry’s body as it got away from Shayne. The redhead’s hand came up from underneath, closed on the. 45 and wrenched it away. Then he eased Harry down onto the steps.
“Goddamn you, Shayne!” Waters exclaimed. “What are you shooting for here, that two hundred G’s?”
“I hope I’ll collect a fee,” Shayne said, “but Harry’s going to need the rest for legal expenses. If you’re not the one who planted the drugs in Harry’s coat, who did?”
“Why ask me? Maybe Vince Donahue. And how will you prove it?”
A voice said sharply, “Drop the gun, Shayne!”
Shayne opened his hand and the. 45 fell to the porch steps. He grinned bleakly.
“What’s been keeping you guys?”
A powerful flashlight came on, stabbing at Waters. “Cool it, Doc,” the same voice said as Waters came about, crouching.
Waters bunked in the powerful beam. “Who said I’m going anywhere? You want Harry Bass, right? Here he is.”
Two men in dark tropical suits came around a bush, ten yards away. Painter and Sanderson followed. All four were holding drawn guns.
Painter danced up to Shayne. “Did you go off the deep end this time! You don’t give aid and comfort to a fugitive from justice around here and get away with it! I’m going to nail you for conspiracy.”
“I doubt it, Petey,” Shayne said calmly, and looked at the two men in dark suits. “Which one do I talk to?”
The larger of the men, with a tanned face and a fair mustache, said, “I’m Nate Williams, Treasury Department. You can talk to me.”
“You saw him, didn’t you?” Painter said. “Helping his dear friend and buddy to escape. Don’t try to deny it, Shayne. I’ve got two outside witnesses this time.”
“All Harry did was hit a cop with an ashtray,” Shayne said. “To me that’s only a misdemeanor. It was a piece of bad luck that the cop died.”
“You heard what he said, I hope,” Painter said excitedly. “These men are narcotics agents. Harry Bass wasn’t transporting heroin from Miami to New York, I suppose. You’re not up on the late news, Shayne. They caught him red-handed!”
The second Treasury agent stooped over Harry. “This man needs an ambulance, Nate. He doesn’t look too good. I’ll phone from inside.”
“You can have Bass,” Painter said. “He’s all yours. Shayne is the one I want. It gives me great pleasure,” he said, looking up maliciously at his redheaded enemy, “to put you under arrest for accessory after the fact. Sanderson, put the cuffs on him.”
A car Shayne recognized as Tim Rourke’s turned in from the shore drive. It was hailed at once by two Treasury agents. After a moment it proceeded slowly up the driveway, the two agents walking alongside.
Shayne said, “I told a few people to meet me here. If you can get Petey to calm down for a minute, Williams, we can clear the air while we’re waiting for the ambulance. Harry won’t be hitting any more cops tonight.”
“You seem to think you’re in charge,” Painter said. “Let me tell you, you’re not.”
“I’ve heard Shayne gets results,” Williams said to Painter.
“Results!” Painter howled. “By blackmail and stunts and intimidation and pure stupid luck! And because people like you are willing to play footsie with him instead of putting him in jail where he belongs!”
“You don’t seem to like Shayne much,” Williams remarked dryly. “If we all try hard, maybe we can keep personal feelings out of this. I’m interested in pinching off this heroin pipeline before it gets into production, and I
