turned it on Theo.
“You’re among friends.”
Harry said heavily, “Where the hell are we?”
“On the Normandy Shores golf course. I’d say about the eighth green. Did you have fire insurance on your Cadillac?”
Theo said quietly, “We have to get him to a doctor.”
“Hell with that,” Harry rumbled. “I need a drink. Been trying to climb that damn wall. Bastards over there wouldn’t listen to me.”
He came to his feet. Theo caught him, both arms around his chest, as he began to topple.
“I’m OK,” he said.
“Oh, yes, you’re fine.”
“How do you want to do it, Harry?” Shayne asked. “You can sit down and we’ll cover you up, and I’ll go back and call an ambulance. But if you don’t want to talk to the cops or sign a complaint right away, we’ll give you a nice bumpy ride out in a golf cart.”
“Mr. Shayne, be serious,” Theo said. “Look at him.”
Harry pulled away. “Not the first time in my life-”
Shayne caught him as he pitched forward. “All right, we’ll take the golf cart. You’ve put on some weight.”
“Hell I have,” Harry mumbled. “Maybe a couple of pounds.”
Shayne turned him so he could look at the flashlight. “How many lights do you see?”
Harry stared at the flashlight, then waved in disgust. “How can I count them when they keep moving around?”
Shayne laughed. “All you need is a couple of weeks in bed and you’ll be out here swinging a golf club.”
He supported the gambler to the cart and helped him up. Harry slumped forward, his head on his folded arms. Theo stood on the ledge behind him, to hold him in.
“How much did you lose, Harry?” Shayne asked before starting the motor.
For a moment he didn’t think Harry had heard him.
“Two hundred G’s,” Harry said softly.
4
Shayne stopped his Buick behind Doc Waters’ Thunderbird. Waters had been watching for them. He came down the porch steps, a drink in his hand.
“This surprises the hell out of me,” he said, looking in at Harry. “You let a couple of punks stick you up?”
Harry took Waters’ drink out of his hand and emptied it in a long swallow. He handed it back.
“I don’t remember asking you here, Doc,” he said evenly.
“Well, for God’s sake,” Waters said uneasily, “if I need an invitation after all these years-I waited a solid hour. I’m under pressure, Harry. I told you that.”
“You’re a rat and a son of a bitch,” Harry told him. “It’s your own fault you’re under pressure. You know what I’m talking about.”
His secretary and Shayne helped him out of the car and up the steps. Waters tried to get in on it but Harry twitched away.
“I don’t want your crummy hands on me.”
Shayne maneuvered his friend through the front door. He looked at Theo, who said helplessly, “Put him in here, I guess.”
Shayne steered him into the living room and lowered him onto a broad sofa. Harry touched his head and groaned.
“Give me another jolt of whiskey before that last one wears off. What happened to Billy?”
“He was on the right side of the wall,” Shayne said, “so he probably traveled by ambulance. Look at this cigarette.” He held a cigarette in front of Harry’s eyes. “Can you focus?”
After trying for a moment, Harry shook his head slightly. “OK, call a doctor. But I want to get you moving first.”
Waters said behind them, “I’ll call him, Harry. Who do you use?”
“Jason Goldstein, in Surfside.”
Theo ran in with a pan of warm water and towels, and knelt beside the sofa. “You look awful,” she said with an attempt at lightness. “Hold still, I want to clean you up a little so you won’t scare the doctor.”
“You’re a cute-looking kid, Theo,” Harry said. “Especially the one in the middle.”
She wrung out a washcloth and began sponging his forehead. “Don’t do too much talking.”
“Kiss me.”
Her hand stopped. “Now Harry.”
“Mike won’t mind. No, not there,” he said as her lips approached his cheek. “On the mouth.”
The expression on her face was hidden from Shayne. He lit a cigarette. Putting down the washcloth, Theo took Harry’s face in both hands and kissed him gently and thoroughly, without hurrying. Shayne had ample time to snap his lighter shut, to put it away, to examine the pictures on the walls. She lifted her head.
“I think I feel better,” Harry said. “Let the washing go for now, Theo. I’m clean enough. Get Mike some brandy. There’s a bottle of Cordon Bleu around somewhere.”
“He can wait a minute,” she said calmly, and finished sponging the blood and dirt from his face.
Harry’s hair, the small amount he had left, was graying over the ears. He had a rugged, outdoors face, with a quick smile and sun crinkles at the corners of his eyes. It was true, as Shayne had told him, that he was a few pounds over his best weight, but he had the arms and shoulders of a professional fighter.
“And a bourbon for me,” he added.
“No,” Theo said, “not till the doctor says so.”
“I know what the doctor will say-bouillon. I’ve got to tell Mike something, and I can’t do it without a drink.”
She looked up at Shayne.
“It won’t kill him,” Shayne said.
“All right, but it’s against my better judgment.”
Harry watched her leave the room. Her walk was lithe and athletic.
“There’s a real woman,” he said. “Mike, sit down. Here’s the problem.”
Shayne moved a straight chair closer to the sofa. “What do you want me to do with Waters, throw him out?”
“No, I’d better have him here where I can watch him.” His face twisted suddenly and he put his hand lightly against the top of his head. “I really think they may have busted something. I relaxed at the wrong time, Mike. One of them kept saying, ‘Don’t kill him, don’t kill him.’ I don’t know why he thought it mattered.”
“If it’ll make you feel better,” Shayne said, “two of them are dead.”
Harry looked at him questioningly, and Shayne told him about his chase of the holdup men and its abrupt ending on the 39th Street cloverleaf in Miami.
“That’s two out of three,” Harry said. “Never mind. Those were the troops. I want to know who’s behind it. That was no spur-of-the-moment job. It was planned. Somebody knew about Doc’s cash situation. The bastard has no margin at all. Sting him twice in an afternoon, and they knew he’d have to call on me for backing. A long shot at Tropical, a football game, a stickup. They could be three accidents, or they could be connected. I think they’re connected.”
“What’s your idea, Harry, that the real reason for the fixes wasn’t just to beat Doc, but to get your cash out where they could take a crack at it?”
“That’s my idea. I’m getting dizzier by the minute so I’ll say it fast. Florida Christian against Southern Georgia. We had Florida at eleven points. A rush of last-minute money came in on Georgia, most of it in Doc’s territory. You don’t get that kind of late action against the local team unless somebody thinks they know
